It's the next day, we got about $2 yesterday, which is more than I've ever made in a week. Jackie and I are grabbing our papers fro today, when Oscar walks up to us.

"Come with us Cowboy. We're gonna go fix you're pal, Davey. Fix him so he can't walk," He says. I try to punch his, but am held back by Jackie.

"Ah! Lift one finger and it's right back to the Refuge. Next!" Weasel says. I've given up on calling him by his real name, as he's just been an ass to me.

As Jackie and I are walking down the streets, there's screaming coming from a girl in an alley.

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" The voice yells. I look at Jackie, he seems to have heard it too. We start running towards the alley and I see Davey, Les, and a girl about to be beat up by the Delancey Brothers.

Wait, I recognize that girl. She used to be in my school with me! Her name is... Sarah? Yeah, Sarah. Jackie and I run up to them, Jackie pulls Morris off of Davey, while I kick Oscar in his no-no square. While Oscar is down, I throw him against a wall.

"Get over here," Jackie says while running over to Oscar. He grabs him and lifts him up. "Remeber Crutchie?" Jackie asks and headbutts Oscar in the face. I turn to Sarah and help her up.

"Are you alright?" I ask her. Jackie walks over to us.

"Yeah," she says, then looks at me and I can see that she remembers me. "Hey, you're Ash! We went to school together!" I smile.

"Yup, that's me! And you're Sarah," I say. She nods and hugs me. She then lets go and hugs Jackie. "David!"

I look over to Davey, who's on the ground. I walk over to him and check him out, then help him up.

"You'd better run, Cowboy. We're gonna tell uncle Weas. You'll be back in the Refuge before suppertime! That means you too, Sweetheart," Morris says.

"Run, you lousy coward, run!" Oscar yells as they both run away. Jackie tries to run after him, but Sarah and I hold him back.

"Go one! Get outta here! Don't come back! You hear me?" Les yells after them.

"What? You couldn't stay away?" Davey asks us.

"Well, I guess I can't be something I ain't," Jackie says.

"A scab?" Davey asks, confused as to what he meant.

"No, smart," Jackie says. I chuckle at his response. Davey waits for a moment before waving his hands to tell us to follow him, so we do.

"Where are we going?" I ask. The people on the streets who are walking past are all behaving like they didn't hear children screaming just a minute ago.

"You'll see," Davey responds.

Sarah hands Jackie a letter, he reads it then shows it to me. 'The Dark Truth; Why Our City Really Fears The Newsies Strike' by Bryan Denton. 'Last night I saw naked force exercised against mere boys.' That's just the first few sentences. It's amazing and written so beautifully.

After about 10 minutes of walking, we arrive at an apartment building. We reach a door, which Jackie knocks on, and it seems like he knows where we are as well. The door opens and Denton is standing there.

"Did you mean what you wrote here? 'Bout all these sweat shop kids listenin' to me?" Jackie asks Denton, holding up the letter.

"I don't write anything I don't mean. Come on in. I'm just packing a few things," Denton says, opening the door for us to come in, which we do. He shuts the door behind us. "So, yes, I mean it. The city thrives on child labour. A lot of people make money that way. They're terrified that the newsies strike will spread."

"Well, there' really not much chance of that as long as they got the power," Jackie says. Denton smiles as though he's been waiting to say this to someone.

"Sometimes, all it takes is a voice, one voice. Then a thousand. Unless it's silenced," Denton says.

"Why can't we spread the strike? Have another big rally and get the word out to all the sweat shop kids? Why not?" I ask him. Davey looks at me and shakes his head.

"What are we going to do? Print an ad in the newspaper?" He asks, but I shrug my shoulders, not wanting to speak up.

"No! We'll do better than that. We'll make our own paper. We tell 'em they gotta join us. Isn't that a good idea?" Jackie asks, but Davey scoffs.

"Yeah, it is. But what do we know about printing a newspaper?" He asks, which proves a point. But Jackie doesn't back down easily.

"Nothing, but our man Denton..." Jackie says. Davey shuts that idea down.

"Yeah, but our man Denton has something more important to do. He's going to be an ace war correspondent, right Denton?" Davey asks Denton, who just slams his hands down on his dining table.

"Alright. Where do we start?" He asks. it's silent for a moment, but if a lightbulb could appear over my head at that moment, it would.

"I have an idea. But we're going to need a lot of boys," I say, looking to Jackie. I can see his face light up.

"There's something else that we need. We need a printing press," Denton says.

"Just so happens I know a guy with a printing press," Jackie says. He looks to me and I nod.

=====================
Timeskip
=====================

Jackie and I walk into the basement of the World with Denton, Sarah, Davey and Spot behind us.

"You've been livin' here?" Spot asks us, but I shush him.

"Shh. They're right above us. If they hear us, we're as good as dead. But yeah, Jackie and I have been now for a good couple of days.

I look at the place I sleep on at night and two off the sheet that's covering it. Denton touches it and smiles.

"Alright! A Platen press. Looks like old man Pulitzer never threw anything away," Denton says. I nod.

"Is it going to work?" Davey asks.

"It better. We have a deadline," Denton replies. I grab the paper we need to print and hand it to him, he loads it up and Sarah starts peddling on the machine to get it going.

"This is the story you wanted to write, well tonight is the night that you can," Denton sings.

"Just get this done and by dawn't early light you can finish the fight you began," Jackie sings.

"This time we're in it to stay," Davey sings.

"Think about seizing the day," Sarah sings. I turn to Jackie, knowing what I'm going to sing is going to make him happy.

"Think of that train as she rolls into old Santa Fe, Tell her we're on our way," I sing. Les shows up at the window, holding out his hand for a stack of papers to be placed in it. Spot walks over to him, carrying a stack and hands it over.

"See old man Pulitzer snug in his bed
He don't care if we're dead or alive," everyone sings. More and more boys slowly start coming up to the window, requesting their papers.

"Three satin pillows are under his head
While we're begging for bread to survive
Joe, if you're still counting sheep
Wake up and read 'em and weep," more boys join us in singing. I get the hang of grabing the papers and handing them over. With each word we sing, I feel my rage grow more and more.

"You've got your thugs
With their sticks and their slugs
Yeah, but we got a promise to keep
Once and for all
Something tells me the tide will be turning
Once and for all
There's a fire inside me that wont stop burning
Now that the choices are clear
Now that tomorrow is here
Watch how the mighty will fall
For once and for all!" Once we finish singing that verse, Jack, Sarah, Davey, and Denton leave out the window to tell more kids on the street of the strike. Spot and I are left with making and handing over papers to the boys.

As more of the kids start singing and yelling, it leaves an awkward silence between me and Spot. Right now, he's cycling and I'm tossing.

"Sos how was The Refuge?" I hear him ask out of nowhere, which sends shivers down my spine.

"Not as bad as before, because I was placed into a room by myself. Solitary confinement. Not even Jackie was allowed in there," I say. He clears his throat, probably to warn me for what he's about to say.

"You keep callin' him that. Even though neitha of your names are what you says they is," Spot says. I gulp down my fear and tell him honestly.

"Well... you remember how I told you that I used to be mean and aggressive?" I ask him, he nods. "Well, I don't want to be remembered as that. If you ask anyone who knew me who Anna Sullivan was, they'd cower in fear. But then I decided to change myself. And now, if you ask someone who Ash Kelly is, they'd talk about how sweet I am. I don't miss the person I once was. I like being me. Because this is the real me, not that bully, me. So I decided to use a different name for a different person," I explain. I then turn to him to say what's on my mind. "I'm sorry for what happened the other day, with me becoming a scab and all."

"Actually, Ise sorry. I shouldn't have acting so chaotic. I shoulda know dat you was forced tah do this, I mean, I think you was. Knowing you, you wouldn't jus' bail on us wit'out a good reason. So tell me, what's the reason?" Spot asks. I freeze for a moment, then decide to tell him.

"Well... Pulitzer took me into his office and threatened to have me put into The Refuge again to get hurt worse, hurt all of the newsies and torture Jackie. That's what happened, so I'll let you be the judge of whether that's a good reason," I tell him. I see his fists clench and he punches a nearby box.

"I'm gonna kill that Pulitza! What makes him think he can hoit you like that?!" Spot yells, making it known that it was a good reason.

"Because he can. If he really wanted to, he could crush everyone underneath him and would get away with it. And to be honest, what could we do about? Go on strike? That'll only make it worse. Kids are powerless in this world. We try our best to keep up with the adult's rules. But in reality, we're just waiting until we're old enough to escape this hell they've created for us," I say. I see Spot freeze up. "Sorry, that got grim."

"Nah, you're okay. And youse right. But let's not think 'bout that right now. Let's think about da future," Spot says. I can't help, however, thinking back to what Spot said to me the other day,  when I first started working for Pulitzer.

"What do you want for your future? I mean, you can't be a newsie for your whole life. You're gonna have to hand over your crown and get an adult job one day. So what's your plan?" I ask him. He furrows his brows and thinks for a moment.

"I'se prolly gonna use money Ise been savin' up tah buy a nice buildin' and start a business. I'se always been a leada, why stop afta bein' a newsie? But then afta dat, I wanna get married, and create many new memories and go on adventures wit' dat goil. We'd explore tha woild, beat up a few punks, get eachudda in and outta trouble, and live an exciting and action-packed life. Then when we're olda, I'd prolly wanna have kids. Have at least one goil and name 'er Brooklyn. That's tha life," he says, leaning back with each new idea. "What about you?"

I sigh, taking a moment to really think about it. Come to think of it, I've never thought of my future. I've always just done what Jackie did. It never really occurred to me that I can create my own future.

"Well... I don't know. I'll probably go to college, getting a degree in something that I like. I've always been convinced that I'd move to Santa Fe with Jackie, but now I don't really like that idea. I like the idea of seeing the world and the beauty of it, but not moving so far away from where I belong. There's a reason Jackie is called 'Cowboy' but I'm not 'Cowgirl'. I have no clue what I want to do for my future, though," I say. After a moment of silence, I say what's on my mind. "Did you really mean what you said to me the other day? That you 'wanted me to be your queen'?"

I can see him blush and turn away.

"Uh, yeah," Spot says awkwardly. I know that he's uncomfortable, so I decide not to pressure him for anything.

"Well, I think that it's really sweet of you to have at least thought about it in the past, because I also thought the same way," I say. I can see his face light up, my last words peaking his interest.

"Who's says I don't have these feelin's anymore?" He asks, making me freak out internally. I look up at him and I can see his confidence radiating off of him. "You said that I at least thought 'bout it in the past, and while dat is true, I still think about it now. Of course I was hoit tah find out dat you had lied. But no matta what happened, I couldn't stop how I felt about you."

I feel my heart beat 100000x faster. I mean, I'd been hit on before, that's always going to happen as a girl. But this time, it's different. Probably because I like him. But I never expected to experience such euphoria just by him saying this.

"Oh wow. That's the sweetest thing ever. And I'm so glad I feel the same way," I say. I can see him freaking out, which makes me smile.

I turn to grab the next and final set of papers for the next newsie who comes by. When I reach for the paper, I feel Spot grab my hand. I want to ask what he's doing, but I'm frozen. I look up at him, and he looks confused as to why he just grabbed me. Before my brain clicks as to what I'm doing, I start leaning into his face, and he does the same. Our lips are only about an inch apart when I close my eyes.

"Here tah collect me papes!" Mush yells from the window. Spot and I both pull away, trying to not let Mush know what nearly happened, but judging from his shocked expression, we failed. "Wait, are you two-" Mush starts, but I slap a hand over his mouth before he can finish.

"If you want to keep living, you'll keep your mouth shut!" I whisper-yell. He nods and holds out his hands for his papers, knowing to just move on. I hand him his papers and he runs away. I sigh and turn to Spot. "Well, that was awkward."

"Yeah, but don't worry," Spot starts. He then gets up and walks over to me, wrapping an arm around my waist. "We can try again later." He then lifts me out of the window with him, taking to the streets. I blush and wait for a moment, before deciding to join him.

Running through the streets, I don't see many boys, but some of us are gathered in the square. It's been about 3 hours, shouldn't there be more kids here? I look around for Spot, but he's not their either, even though I saw him walking to the square. I notice that Jackie is up on a monument for Horace Greeley.

I climb up next to him but take a seat, letting my legs dangle off.

"Will there be kids showing up?" I ask him. His eyebrows furrow and he looks down.

"I don't know. Theys should be. But I haven't seen a kid 'round here dat hasn't been one of us," Jackie says with disappointment on his face. I place a hand on his shoulder as a way of comforting him.

"When the circulationbell starts ringin', Will we hear it?" Les asks. Racetrack walks up to him and places a hand on his shoulder.

"Nah," Race says.

"What if the Delanceyscome out swingin', Will we hear it?" Les asks. This time, more boys get up.

"No!" Everyone yells. From a distance, there's the sound of chanting. No, not chanting. Singing.

"When you gota million voices singin'
Who can hear a lousy Whistle blow
And "The World" will know" The voice of hundreds of children sing. I watch as Spot steps out in front, leading all of the Brooklyn newsies. I guess that's where he went. There's a few people cheering for Brooklyn.

I pull Jackie down from the statue, pushing him towards Spot. They spit shake then Jackie, Davey and I head into Mr. Pulitzer's building.

We open the door, walking in with more pride I've ever had. We walk upstairs and walk in on a tall man saying how this strike is 'The end of the world'. He then realizes that we heard us and panics. I slam our paper down onto Pulitzer's desk and smirk at him.

"Extrae Extrae, Joe. Read all about it," I say. He looks down at the paper, and then eyes both of us.

"I promised that if you defied me, I would break you. I'll keep that promise, boy. I gave you the chance to be free. I don't understand. Anyone who doesn't actin his own self-interest is a fool,"  Pulitzer says to Jackie. Davey gains confidence and speaks up.

"What does that make you?" Davey asks. It shocks me a bit because he sorta yells it.

"What?" Pulitzer asks. Jackie wraps his arm around Davey's shoulders.

"This is my pal, David, the walking mouth," Jackie says. He then pushes Davey forward, making him speak up.

"You talk about self-interest, but since the strike your circulation has been down 70%. Every day you're losing thousands of dollars just to beat us out of one lousy tenth of a cent. Why?" Davey asks. I know the answer.

"It isn't about the money, Dave. If Joe gives into nobodies like us, that means we've got the power. He can't do that no matter what it costs. Am I right, Joe?" I ask Pulitzer in a condescending tone.

"I sent for the police. They must be here by now," Seitz says. Pulitzer smiles and turns to him.

"Send 'em in, Seitz. Send 'em in," Joe says. Jackie grabs Joe by his collar.

"I'm not goin' back to jail, Joe. Look at here. Right out here is right where your power ends!" Jackie yells, opening the door. The noise of all the shouting kids of New York floods my ears. Joe seems to not be able to take the noise.

"Shut the windows!Close the windows! Stop that infernal noise! Go home! Go home! Go home! Go home to your mothers and fathers! Go home!" Joe yells out the window to the boys and girls outside of his room. But his screaming does nothing. He then turns to Jackie. " Shut the window and shut up!"

"There's a lot of people out there! They ain't gonna go away! They got voices now and they're gonna be listened to. Putting me in jail is not gonna stop them. That's the power of the press, Joe. Thanks for teachin' me about it," Jackie says, becoming more condescending.

"Those kids put out a pretty good paper, Chief," Seitz says. Those words make Joe angry.

"I ordered a printing ban on all strike matters. Now who defied it? Whose press did you use to print this? Whose?" Joe asks, pressuring us to answer. I decide to break it to him.

"Well, we only used the best, Joe. So I just wanna say, thanks again," I say. His look changes from the of confusion, to realization.

====================
Timeskip
====================

We walk out of the building, most of the kids quiet down. Jackie leans down to Les to tell him something, then places him on his shoulders.

"We won!" Les yells. Just those two words sends every kid into a loud scream of excitement. The excitement is short lived by Jackie and I when someone warns us about the police being here. I look up and see Weasel sitting in the front seat of a paddy wagon.

"Down you two! Get down!" Swifty yells at me and Jackie.

"Hide Ash!" Blink yells to everyone. Jackie and I start to run away, but Denton holds us back.

"Jack, Ash, it's over," Denton says, which scares us. "No, no, no! You don't have to run. Not anymore. Not from the likes of him."

We look over to where he's looking at, and there's Snyder being pushed around in handcuffs. The paddy wagon opens it's doors and it's full of kids who were arrested, Crutchie is the last person to walk out, and I run over to him and pull him into a tight hug.

"Heya, Ash! How ya doin'?" Crutchie asks, his sweetness still permanently marked in his voice. Snyder is pushed to the cart for criminals. Crutchie places a hand on his shoulder. "Rememba what I told ya, Mr. Snyder. The first thing you do in jail, make friends with the rats. Share what you got in common," Crutchie says to Snyder. A police officer starts pushing Weasel into the wagon, but Crutchie taps his on the shoulder. "Officer, may I please?"

"Sure, kid," the officer says, not really caring. Crutchie hands his crutch to a kid and slams the door on Weasel, locking him into the wagon. We head back over to Jackie.

"Heya, Crutchy," Jackie says to him, slinging an arm over his shoulders.

I look around as Crutchie and Denton start talking. I look at what has started. And I see how everyone here, who are just kids, managed to change an entire generation. I bring my attention back to Crutchie when I hear the name "Teddy Roosevelt" leave his mouth.

"The Governor's very grateful that you brought this problem to his attention. I said you might need a lift somewhere. He'd be happy to oblige. Anywhere you two want. And this time, you ride inside," Denton says to us. I know where Jackie wants to go. I don't want to go there. Normally, I would tag along with Jackie. But this time, I'm going to do what I feel is right.

"So, can he drop us off at the train-yards?" Jackie asks.

"Yeah, if that's what you want," Denton says, letting us know we can make our own decisions. I sigh and turn to Jackie.

"Actually, it'll just be you at the train-yards. I'm staying here," I tell Jackie, which shocks him.

"What? Why? I thought you wanted to go to Santa Fe wit' me?" Jackie asks. I shake my head and look up at him.

"No. At one point, I did. But it was only because that was your dream. And mine..." I start, looking out to everyone here, standing around and watching us. "Mine's right here."

I can see the sadness in Jackie's face. He looks at Davey and Spot and grabs one of each of their shoulders.

"You two betta watch ovah her and make sure she don't get hoit or inta any trouble. And I swear dat if eitha of you lay a hand on 'er, you're dead. Got that?" Jackie states, and they both nod their heads. Jackie then turns to me and sighs. "You. My one and only sistah who I love to the moon and back. Please, take care of youself. I love you, and remember dat I always will." I nod. Jackie kisses my forehead and hops in the carriage.

We all watch him ride off into the horizon, seated on Teddy Roosevelt's carriage once again. The working kids all follow him. I feel tears come to my eyes, which I wipe away. After a couple minutes, all the kids who aren't from Manhattan and Spot are all gone. I hear the circulation bell start ringing, letting us know that it's time to work.

"Try Bottle Alley or the harbor," Mush says. A couple of boys decide that's where they'll go.

"Try Central Park, it's guaranteed," Racetrack says.

"Try any banker, bum or barber," Crutchie says.

"They almost all knows how tah read," Blink says, staring at Davey, looking like he wants Davey to bring back Jackie.

More boys start singing the song, hopping into line for their papers. I just stand behind Davey, feeling sorrow enter me. I've never been without Jackie. I mean, I wasn't with him at all time, but I'll be living all the way across the country. Davey slams down his money on the counter for 100 papers. There's a loud cheering in the distance, and everyone runs over to see what's happening.

I run over and see Jackie getting out of the carriage, with all the working kids who have followed.

"Thanks for the advice, Governor. Like you said, I still got things to do. Besides, I got family here," Jackie says to Teddy, then runs over to me and pulls me into a tight embrace. He hands over his cowboy hat to Les and places his bandanna around my neck, both of these he's giving as a way of rejecting his old dreams. "So, how's the headline today?" Jackie asks us.

"Headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes," Davey says, quoting Jackie's words.

"Come here, Davey," Jackie says. They both spit in their hands and shake. Sarah makes her way through the crowd, finding Jackie and pulling him into a kiss, which he returns.

As the crowd is cheering for the two of them, Spot pulls me away from the crowd, lifting me up into Teddy's carriage. I duck down as it starts moving and he's waving goodbye to everyone.

"Bye Spot!" Sarah yells. I can tell that we're only about 5 meters away from them.

"Go back to Brooklyn ya hear!" Jackie yells. I pop my head up and look at Jackie, who looks shocked and a bit mad. "Where are you goin'?!"

"You said go back to Brooklyn, so that's where I'm going! I'll be back tomorrow!" I yell to him with a smile plastered on my face.

"Spot Conlon, you'd betta not lay a hand on 'er! Or so help me I will storm down tah Brooklyn and kick your-" Jackie starts, but before he can finish that sentence, Spot pulls on the bandanna that Jackie gave to me and pulls me into a compassionate kiss. I look back to Jackie, whose mouth is almost reaching the ground. Sarah laughs and kisses him again, getting him to calm down.

There's a ton of whispers and talking among the newsies who are there about me and Spot. I ignore their words and kiss him again. You'd expect the toughest boy in all of New York to be very rough with his kisses. But instead they're soft and delicate, letting me know that I'm safe.

As we ride off into the distance, I feel a sense of peace among everything. The fighting is over. I don't have to worry about The Refuge. I can finally live in peace. And the best thing, is that I have a guy who pretty much owns all of Brooklyn that cares about me. But I know that, just because the strike is over, that my journey isn't.

I still have the rest of my life.

And I just finished the tutorial.

(Holy cow. The most words I've probably ever written: 4831 words)