counterfeit [newsies x reader]

chapter two

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CHAPTER TWO

"CARRYING THE BANNER"

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AS SOON AS YOU EXITED your apartment building, you knew you were way in over your head. You were pretending to be someone else, someone you'd never met, someone who probably didn't exist.

Then it hit you.

You hadn't even thought of a name!

You'd have to work on that. So, once you heard the circulation bell ring, you knew you'd need to get a move on. The newsboys began to form a steady path as they began to run toward the place where'd they pick up their papers.

You kept a steady pace behind them, so you wouldn't have to create conversation, and began to brainstorm a name. It was hard to think clearly through all the yelling that the newsies put up, but you looked around for inspiration.

How about John? No, too plain. No one would ever remember a John Smith. How about Fred? No, Frank! That was it. You'd be Frank Weaver. You had no idea where the last name came from, probably the fact that you were just coming up on a textile factory.

Finally, after a short walk, you had followed the newsies to the gate that lead to the circulation building. You got slightly nervous. Just standing here led to an opportunity of conversation, which led to an opportunity to blow your cover. You inhaled and watched them become distracted by the nuns that brought coffee and the like.

You hung at the back of the crowd as they awaited the gates. You went over the plan in your head. You'd pop in, pay for your papers, get out, sell them, and do it all again tomorrow. It was simple enough.

The other newsies had downed their coffee and tried to chew their stale food by the time the gate opened. You waited until they all filed in before you entered. If you didn't interrupt their line, you might not be noticed too much.

They were all laughing like old friends. They probably were, now that you thought about it. Part of you wanted to scold them since they were on the job, but you reminded yourself that you had no place to do that. You had just started today and who was going to listen to you?

You pulled down your cap again, making sure your hair was concealed and fell in line behind a boy in a blue shirt who appeared to be the most cleanly of the bunch.

The majority of the boys were making witty banter toward the people circulating papers. Your brain began to fire back all the negative possibilities. You inhaled and stepped forward as the line filed through, newsie by newsie.

The young man who went before you was bombarded with questions from the circulation crew.

"So, we got a new kid?"

A little boy popped out from behind him, you hadn't even seen him until now.

"I'm new too!" He exclaimed.

The older boy brushed it off and payed for his papers, and awaited the staff to give him what he paid for.

The boy in front of you took his papers from the men handing them out and began walking away. As soon as you took out your coins and set it on the counter, the boy from before's voice rang out.

"Um– I'm sorry, excuse me. I paid for twenty but you gave me nineteen."

The man who seemed to be in charge began complaining about how he was being "so nice". A frown appeared on your face as you watched the scene go down.

An older boy in a blue shirt stepped forward and counted the new boy's papers while the others bickered.

"The new kid's right, Weasel, you only gave him nineteen." He spoke, confirming everyone's suspicions.

Everyone continued to argue, demanding the circulation staff give the new kid his extra paper. It was all a jumble of words, until you couldn't take it anymore.

"Give him his pape." You spat.

"Weasel", as the newsies declared him, looked up with a comical look on his face.

"Another new kid?" He asked, stifling a laugh. You nodded, all while keeping an angry scowl on your face. "And what makes you think I'd just give him his paper because a short stack like you told me to?" He asked.

"I don't know, I just thought it was human decency to follow up with your terms and conditions, but I guess that doesn't count," you paused for effect, "that is, if you aren't human." As they were soon consumed with your comeback, you snatched up an extra paper and passed it over to the boy who was missing his.

The crowd of wild boys were shouting, laughing and hollering. They apparently thought this was the funniest thing they'd ever seen. You'd heard a blur of words as you stood there. "C'mon Shortstack!" and "That's more like it!" among them.

You set your money on the counter, enough for twenty papers. Weasel glared at the two young men who were assisting him as he snatched up your money. They passed you your papers, which you counted multiple times, making sure there was enough.

You shoved your papers in your bag as you huffed out a breath of air. Your plan to stay in the shadows had gone to the dogs.

On the first day, you'd already made yourself noticeable and earned a nickname from the boys. You sighed as you began to exit the square.

You couldn't believe you'd left school for this. Was this going to be enough for your mother? Was it going to be worth it? With the wild coworkers and insufferable staff?

As soon as you reached the gate, you felt a hand on your shoulder. You spun around, surprised. You were met with three faces that'd you'd seen before.

The boy who was cheated before, the older kid who counted his papers, and the boy who you suspected to be the first boy's younger brother.

"Where ya goin', Shortstack?"