He sighed, sitting on the bench in Newsies Square as he tried to think of something. The headline was as bad as it was yesterday and he wasn’t making much money, due to the fact he hates lying. He figured he could go another day without eating, but his stomach hurt more than ever and he hated the feeling. His family didn’t make much money so he couldn’t rely on them.

He sat up, slinging the bag over his shoulder and walking to the paper stand for handouts. “50 papes,” he requested.