The Switch in History || A Newsies Strike AU

Chapter 4 - Help from a Brown-Haired Newsie

Chapter 4 - Trying and Failing to be Discreet (Because Stage is NOT Discreet)
Warnings: Slight anxiety, Weasel, the Delancey brothers, nerves
A/N, guess who the brown-haired Newsie is lol (and also, Sunny's gonna be very happy with the musical this chapter's song is from lol :)
Third Person POV

Paint walked out to the Distribution Center with the other Newsies, slightly nervous.

After what had happened the night before, they knew the Newsies knew they were on edge, but they didn't know why.

Paint didn't know how they had ended up in July 1899, but they had.

Sure, the freedom they had was nice and the Newsies seemed really close, but they knew nothing about this time.

They had no one they could ask, so they just went with it.

'It' had taken them to a Distribution Center to get 'papes'.

Paint watched the other Newsies step up to the desk, tease someone named 'Weasel', and pay for their papes.

They decided to just follow their lead.

Paint stepped up to the window, placing their money down.

The 'Weasel' dude looked from the money to them, letting out a puff of smoke. "What's up with you, Racer?" He questioned. "You're usually all 'well, whatever happened to romance?'" He mocked him. "and such." Weasel stated.

Paint blinked in confusion. Race says what?

Paint put two and two together and realized they usually insulted Weasel. "I'd worry more about your nephews and their idiocy than me, Weasel." Paint told him.

Weasel looked behind him.

Oscar and Morris immediately stopped fighting and smiled sheepishly at him.

Weasel sighed deeply, turning back around to face Paint. "I don't care about you, Higgins." He grunted out, placing his cigar back into his mouth. "Move it."

Paint stepped forward, grabbing their papes from a glaring Oscar and walked away, ignoring his glares.

Paint sat down on a crate, taking out a paper to read it. Now, to figure out how to sell these things.

Paint chewed on their cigar. It was the closest thing it had to it's donut chew back in 2021.

They weren't paying attention until someone coughed in front of them, grabbing their attention.

Paint looked up, finding a brown-haired, blue-eyed Newsie wearing a green flannel. "Hi?" Their voice was quieter than usual.

"Can I sit?" The Newsie asked, gesturing to the crate next to them.

Paint nodded.

The Newsie sat down next to them. "You merged too, huh?" They asked, their right leg crossed over their left leg as their eyes scanned a page of the paper they held.

Paint's eyes widened as it looked over at the Newsie. "How do you know that?" They whisper yelled.

The Newsie looked around, before leaning closer to Paint. "I've been here for a week." They informed Paint.

Paint's mouth fell open in shock.

"I'm Stage." They- Stage- introduced themself. "She/her and merged with Elmer." She explained.

"Paint." Paint managed to force out of their mouth. "They/them, merged with-" they started.

"Race." Stage finished, cutting them off. "I know. I've seen."

"Question," Paint started. "How did you know?" They asked.

Stage shrugged, looking at their paper. "You seem more confused than Race was before you merged." She explained. "A little shyer, more nervous."

You seem oddly calm about this, Stage-

Paint nodded. "Can anyone else tell?" They asked.

Stage shook her head. "They can tell something is off, but what happened last night is what they think is wrong." She explained.

Paint nodded again. "I guess it's kinda like a built-in excuse." They muttered.

Stage nodded. "And a totally reasonable response to being merged." She assured Paint.

Paint smiled slightly.

"You mind selling with me?" Stage asked Paint.

Paint shot her a look. "Of course not." They answered with a chuckle. "I have no clue what to do."

Stage laughed softly. "That was me my first week." She responded.

Flashbacks flashed through her mind.

"Uh..." Stage stared at the paper in her hand. "World and Sun papers fighting?" She calls out, her voice uncertain.

People passing by gave her looks of disgust and confusion.

Stage shrunk a little bit, the confusion she was feeling setting her anxiety off crazily.

Stage shook herself out of the flashback, standing up.

Paint looked at her, confused.

"Race is selling with me today!" Stage shouted to all of the Newsies.

Multiple of them nodded, while others either didn't respond or gave her a thumbs up.

"Thanks." Paint whispered.

Stage sat back down. "Anytime." She responded. "We have to stick together to make it through this." She smiled at Paint.

Paint smiled.

A bit later

Paint walked beside Stage to her selling spot. "So... tell me about Race?"

Stage pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. "He's... sarcastic, a lot." She answered slowly. "But not more than Albert- the redhead who helped you last night." She informed Paint.

Paint nodded.

"He chews on his cigar, apparently it has something to do with it being a stress reliever." Stage continued as she looked around, still walking.

In all honesty, she was surprised she hadn't fallen yet today.

Paint lifted up the cigar, staring at it, a ghost of a smile appearing on their face. I guess Race and I are pretty alike.

"He sells at Sheepshead, which is also some sort of past thing." Stage explained, looking over at the white-haired Newsie. "And he knows a lot of Brooklyn Newsies."

Paint's eyebrows furrowed. "Brooklyn Newsies?" They questioned.

Stage shrugged. "Don't know anything about them yet." She said, looking at the white-haired Newsie next to her. "I'm trying to be discreet." She informed Paint.

Paint chuckled. "Fair, fair."

"Race is apparently usually very witty and always has a snarky remark up his sleeve." Stage informed Paint, looking back ahead of herself as she walked. "He's clumsy, doesn't care about himself, and is Jack- the leader's- Second in command." She explained.

Paint nodded. "This is going to be a time." They mumbled.

Stage laughed softly. "I'll help. We can help each other." She told them.

Paint smiled.

"Okay," Elmer started. "Let's start selling."

Race nodded, him and Elmer pulling out a paper in unison.

They waved their papers above their heads, shouting out the headlines.

1068 Words
This one is over 1000 lol (:
Anyway, I've never really written in past tense, so Mel helped me a good bit with mistakes and this is new lol.