Disclaimer: Newsies Disney owns the movie musical.  The story and the characters of the newsies belong to Disney too. However I have all rights to Jo. She’s my character and I won’t take lightly to you stealing her.

 Warnings: Mature themes, Drinking, mild references to loose sex

 ^0^ Natz

JO: A Homecoming Story

The aftertaste of gin, tobacco and foreign saliva is not a welcome one. I cough, spit and lay here, a mess, a disgrace. I have no recollection of the night before. But then, do I really want to remember?

I Wake, wake, lift, stand, move, walk, walk, rub, and then touch. Feel.

Shake head. Lift face.

What do I see? A reflection. Do I really care? NO.

So easy, ain’t it? The life I chose. Stop pitying yourself and get on with the process of living, girl.

Life at the lodging house was not so bad. A bed, a place, a space that is mine.

Maybe I should go back. Maybe? Maybe?

An exasperated sigh escapes from my lips.

  Think about going there again. They are not you. They are all happy, that sickening happiness.  All together, in an annoying familial bond. They are so sad.  I am free. I can do what I want .I can live how I like. I don’t need to be happy. I will be satisfied with fulfilling my wants.

And then I remember…

 

            “Did ya miss me?” Sweet smile from full lips.

             “Of course! Is that a question? I just don’t understand why you always have to go. Aren’t we good enough to you?”

             “Definitely good enough. What made you think that you were not?”

             “Because you leave and never say good bye, then you come back out of nowhere and pretend like it did not matter.”

             “That’s my business!” Eyes flash angrily. Feeling trapped and confined. Rebellion surges up in chest. RUN, HIDE.

             I think it’s time to go back.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

         The frost around the windows was slight. Not even enough to excite the most imaginative child. When it would envelop the world, cover it in white, powdery joy? For her it was wondrous transformation. Each minute development of the season as stunning as the other. It was the ripening of winter that fascinated her. The fact that she was so cold, but yet felt so much joy. It was the mystery, the waiting, the expectation. She looked past the window, into the room. All the happy, smiling faces. Sappy, smiling faces; one of which she would soon put on. She confidently stepped through the doorway. She was in control.

The room was filled with young, dirty street boys. They were spread all over the room sitting in several booths, chewing hurriedly and frequently taking long glugs from their bottles of soda pop. They did not even notice that she had entered. They were too busy engaging in their usual friendly banter at the times that their mouths were not filled with food or the sweet drink.

            “What’s that you say Mush? You are afraid to sell alone?”  Seated at one of the larger booths, one boy, a highly noticeable patch over his left eye, teased another and grinned, proud that he had found someone to pick on. He poked the guy sitting across from him.

            “Well Blink, the streets of New York are not that exactly safe, you know.” This comment came from a tall, well-built boy. She strode towards the booth. She was back in business. Her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. She could feel his muscles tense and could feel him breathe in sharply. “Hi baby,” she purred into his ear,  “missed me?”

            “Jo!” He leapt out of the booth, an expression of mixed surprise and joy, but also of another, which she had never seen on her previous homecomings. It took a while for her to figure out what it was. And then it hit her; it was one of discomfort.

She looked around the room nonchalantly and announced boldly with a sly smirk on her face, “ I’m back boys.”

~*~*~*~*~

Bulma’s Hideout / 2