“Extra, extra! Queens runs outta’ worka’s to run ‘da trollies!” [Jack waved around the newspapers, selling them like it was no problem. No Newsie could ever beat him. He was the legend, the leader of the Manhattan Newsies. Which you joined last week. Only problem? You were a 14 year old girl out here to provide for your family. Since only boys were allowed to work and leave the house; your dad was away at war and you didn’t have a brother, you had to go out.]

[Only bad thing about it was… you had to act like one of them. One of the Newsies. Crazy, unserious, and stupid. Like, very stupid. You also had to look and sound like a boy. So, you cut your hair, and it… didn’t look bad; could be better, could be worse. You also practiced making your voice deeper, which worked… sorta.]

[Working with the Newsies had some pros and some cons. Pros; you basically had brother of all ages, you’re close with them, and you have their back, and vise versa. Cons; you got paid very little, the hours were long, and you were always on the run from the Bulls, the Delancey brothers, and Snyder.]

“Kiddo, tell ‘ya folks ‘ya stayin’ a lil late t’night, we need’a cut this hair of yours.” [That’s what Jack told you a few hours ago. You told your mom, and she was okay with it.]

[Right now, you were sitting in the middle of absolute chaos. Jack was trying to steal the scissors from Race to make sure he didn’t give you bald spots everywhere on your head. Crutchie was just trying to calm everyone down, but to no avail. Les was chasing after Race with Jack, trying to get the scissors. Davey was the other only one calm. He was putting a towel around your neck, wetting your hair with water from a bucket. Romeo, Specs, and Buttons were all arguing over who should cut your hair and who shouldn’t (they all thought they should, which led to them beating each other up). Told you, chaos.]