forever and always - albert dasilva

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You didn't remember much from your childhood. In a way, that was a good thing; there was probably a lot of things that you didn't want to remember. But one person from your childhood stuck out to you like a sore thumb: a freckled red headed boy named Albert who you were absolutely in love with as a seven year old.

You and Albert had been the only two children who were really allowed out during the day in your neighborhood so you guys became fast friends, spending the summer days playing tag and making snowmen in the winter. As you both were granted more freedom - more freedom meaning that you both were able to walk two blocks to the convenience store, two cents in your and Albert's pockets so you could get a piece of candy or two - Albert would proudly parade you around those two blocks, holding your intertwined hands above your heads and exclaim to anyone you passed that you were his girlfriend.

You both had spent as much time together as seven year olds could and during that time, you found yourself blushing when Albert would grab your hand and you realized this wasn't a normal feeling. Albert did talk about you guys being boyfriend and girlfriend but who knew if he meant it? Kids never mean things they say. They're naive and repeat things they hear adults say, maybe that's all it was.

So when your grandmother got sick when you were eight years old, your father packed your family into a train and off you rode to Chicago, Illinois. You were heartbroken, of course; you never got to say goodbye to Albert. The night before, you told him you'd see him the next morning and now it's quite possible you'll never see him again. During the train ride, you found yourself wondering about what Albert was doing and what he was going to do when he realized you were gone. When tears started pricking your eyes, you quickly shook that thought out of your mind and leaned your head on your mother's shoulder, quickly falling asleep.

But that was all in the past, you and Albert's friendship, you moving to Chicago. Since your father passed away a few months after you turned seventeen, you were moving back to Manhattan with your mom. It was easier to find jobs for you and your mother in New York than anywhere else so you were moving back to where you grew up. In the back of your mind, you found yourself wondering if Albert would live at the same house or if you'd see him again but you knew that it would probably be a long shot.

Settling back into the New York lifestyle was like riding a bike; it was bumpy at first but after that, it was a smooth ride. You got a job as a Manhattan newsie and started selling ten papers a day, earning just enough to keep some bread on your table for dinner. You didn't know many of the other newsies, choosing to stay more to yourself but there was one newsie who intrigued you.

You didn't know his name, all you knew is he had red hair and light freckles and looked like what you imagined Albert would look like at an older age. You were fairly certain it was him but you also didn't want to ask in case it wasn't him. So you spent your days selling papers and watching the boy on the street corner a block away from you. Little did you know, the redhead boy named Albert watched you as well, wondering if you could possibly be the childhood best friend that he fell in love with - the childhood crush who broke his heart.

-

After watching the boy with a large smile on his face at all times for a few weeks, you approached a blond haired newsie who always had a cigar in his mouth. "Hi, I'm (Y/N)."

He gave you a crooked smile, the cigar still hanging out of his mouth, and tipped his hat towards you. "Race, nice to meet ya."

You cast a nervous glance over your shoulder, checking for the Albert-look-alike. Not seeing him, you looked back at Race once again. "Race, is it possible for me to talk to you privately?"

You could see a question beginning to form in his eyes but when Race saw you nervously start to chew on the bottom of your lip, he lightly took ahold of your wrist and pulled you into a empty alleyway. "Is everythin' okay?"

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