I think they forgot that Mush in livesies has been played by hundreds of people of all genders and races??? guys help are they okay. LIKE IT WASNT JUST NICK MASSON IN PRO SHOT…
The pro shot is the most accessible version of the Broadway show, other than bootlegs, and arguably the most white washed… just because actors who are poc played poc characters does not make the whitewashed version any less problematic.
Also btw I’m not bashing on anyone’s newsies farm AU it is just that livesies jack is DEFINITELY a farmer as they took away him being a cowboy so what else is there in Santa Fe?? Farmers. Livesies jack kelly is a farmer.
Race: All zoos are petting zoos if you aren’t a bitch.
Davey: All zoos are petting zoos if you can walk through reinforced glass, jump over a sizeable moat and can handle jumping down a distance of upwards of two meters, avoiding strategically placed barbed wire. But yeah, totally.
Musical Theatre Tropes/Things I Never Get Tired Of
The Runaway New Yorker - mc wants to leave NYC because they feel like they aren’t achieving anything there. Like a typical New Yorker, they want to leave for someplace warm and sunny (probably Santa Fe). They almost leave when they lose hope, but then they realize that their home is in New York City with their friends-turned-family.
Ex.Usnavi(In The Heights),Jack Kelly(Newsies),Mark, Roger, Angel, and Collins (Rent)
Kickass Female Trio - probably have a song where they sing about how powerful they are and how everyone bows down to them. Adored by the whole fandom. They also have this iconic pose that everyone can recognize. Also have a distinct colour palette among their outfits. The leader is the most powerful, popular, and feared of them all and is in the center of their pose & the main singer of their song. She’s somehow defeated in a later part of Act 1. The second-in-commandtakes over for the leader and is at her right. The innocent sidekick is at the leader’s left & she’s very youthful and childlike. Has yellow somewhere in her outfit. She’s likely to be an alto.
Ex.Angelica(leader),Eliza(2nd-I-C),andPeggy(IS) - the Schuyler Sisters (Hamilton) | H. Chandler (leader), H. Duke (2nd-I-C), H. McNamara (IS) - the Heathers(Heathers) | Regina(leader),Gretchen(2nd-I-C),Karen (IS) - the Plastics(Mean Girls)
The Seductress Song - hot young woman breaks into lead male’s house in her own song where she belts some mad vocals and then flirts with him cause she wants him.
Ex.Mimi Marquez - Out Tonight(Rent),Maria Reynolds - Say No To This(Hamilton),Veronica Sawyer - Dead Girl Walking(Heathers)
The “My Life Sucks and I’m Struggling Because I’m Poor and I Have To Work and I’m Too Young For That BS, but life goes on” song - It’s probably a bunch of oppressed New Yorkers singing that.
Ex.In The Heights(In The Heights),Carrying The Banner(Newsies),It’s A Hard-Knock Life(Annie),Rent(Rent)
The romance between the Girl Who Has It All and the Boy Who Has Nothing trope - also self-explanatory. The girl’s father is probably wealthy or respected.
Ex.Alexander & Eliza(Hamilton),Jack & Katherine(Newsies),Nina & Benny(In The Heights)
The Silly Little Banter Between Two Love Interests song - the two characters are lowkey into one another, but they’re like, fighting-flirting.
Ex. I Never Planned On You (Don’t Come A-Knocking)(Newsies),Light My Candle(RENT),Anything You Can Do(Annie Get Your Gun)
The “Let’s Have Some Fun In The City!” song - super upbeat instrumentals and ensemble, the characters are exploring the city and having fun.
Ex.When You’re Home(In The Heights),One Short Day(Wicked),The Schuyler Sisters(Hamilton)
The Badass Revolution Song - the song that makes you want to take down capitalism and scream something at the top of your lungs. take down the oppressors. the poor kids are taking over now.
Ex.The World Will Know(Newsies),One Day More (Les Misérables),My Shot(Hamilton),Yorktown(Hamilton),Defying Gravity(Wicked)
our lord and savior mike faist on our other lord and savior ben tyler cook’s instagram story for west side story. they’re having Quality Bro Time™️ at the beach. newsies forever!
Here’s her announcement post on Instagram ft. some of your broadway faves AND some OBC and National Tour Newsies congratulating her and her husband Kevin Massey on their baby due November 17th!
[also, follow me on insta! (@mikaelafeliz) dm me if you came from this newsies blog so we can be friends ]
a concept: a Broadway musical production held in the Nederlander Theatre in West 41st St., Manhattan about a group of New Yorkers living in the slums of Manhattan, who protest against this guy - who cares deeply about one of the female leads - and his capitalist agenda, which is to sell something that will make the characters more broke than they already are. The main character is an artist who’s full of angst and nearly runs off to Santa Fe, but then realizes that their home is in New York. The characters also sing a song about their New York ideals while dancing on a table in a restaurant in an upbeat number. It’s also set at the end of a decade.
Davey [to Jack]: How did Pulitzer not throw you into jail immediately when you first met him?
jack: well, thank ya for askin’. you see, i used the bittenbinder method. when i saw the perp approaching, i reminded him that i was dating his daughter. now ive thrown him off his rhythm
The grass crumpled beneath his boots. His shadow left a broad dent in the shade
(his body was still a marvel- when had Jack Kelly become so strong? When did Jack Kelly grow into his wimpy shoulders and snivelling ankles? When did Jack Kelly ditch his dreams of a boy to become a man?)
that towered over a lean man who was casually basking in the weak October daylight. He frowned at the sudden loss of warmth, but his eyes danced with mirth as he gazed over his former selling partner, current best friend, and long-time confidant. “Why, Jack Kelly. I thought you stood me up.”
“I’d neva, Dave,” Jack bent down in the mellow grass next to David. “They caugh’ me onna big shipment just as I was ‘bout to leave for lunch. Tell Esther that the market’ll have a good deal on trout tomorrow.”
Their heads nearly touched at the temple, and if Jack had the nerve or the gall, he could move a miniscule inch and connect their homely skin. It would only take a second- and what is a second, honestly? A moment in time? In the everlasting universe? And Jack Kelly wasn’t a very smart man, but he knew that humans only took up a small part of the whole existence of the world and a single second of humanity could manage to be wasted on the shifting of a cold, lonely wrist to lay on the freckled arm of another-
David rolled onto his side, more interested in a patch of dandelions than the market predictions for the next day. “Besides,” scrunching his nose, as if that would clear his irreverent musings on the universe, “not all o’ us are fancy medical men with all the break time they could ask fa’. I’m the big man pullin’ the weight ‘round here.”
(And it was true, to some aspects. Jack brought home honest-to-goodness bakery bread on Fridays so they could practice Shabbat without travelling, as Mayer so liked to do. He gave Les nickels to spend at the fair and bought Sarah hair ribbons for no particular reason. There was the gas bill he had paid one particularly difficult December, and the endless hours of doing various handiwork around the house when David was studying and Mayer’s old aches came to haunt him. The Jacobs’ home was also Jack’s, not because he needed it, but because they needed him.)
(He needed it too, he supposed.)
A yellow dandelion hovered over his nose, gently twirling with the teasing hum of David leaning in so close. Jack’s teeth snapped at it.
“You can drink the milk of these, I read,” David mused.
Jack wrinkled his nose. “Dandelion salad‘s only good tha first five times. Plus, it’d turn Crutchie’s tongue yellow.”
Dropping the little flower altogether, David rolled flat on his back and turned to gently nudge Jack on his shoulder with his premature wrinkling forehead. “Jackie,” he whispered.
(“I love you,” he would go on, later in Jack’s dreams. “I’ve loved you since I met you, I love you like a wildfire, I love you so much I cannot bear it, I love you like every character in all of my books, I love you.”)
“I’ve met a girl.” There was a hint of mischief in David’s tone- and Jack didn’t recognize it. There was suddenly a gated city wrapped around David’s heart and Jack was frantically scrambling for the key; For the first time, he was locked out of David’s life. He was an onlookerupon territory he had memorized by touch, by heart, by memory.
“Yeah?” If David had been paying attention, the word would have pinged around his Tin Man heart- hollow, empty, overused. “The Walking Mouth finally has someone to use it on?”
He relished in the feel of David’s uncalloused palms shoving playfully at his tanned, muscled arm. “Don’t be crass,” the boy chided. “Her name is April.”
(Jack was born on a misty-eyed April morning, with the clouds swabbed over the sun and an ominous wind blowing throughout the emptied streets. His mother had called it a bad omen. His father couldn’t fathom why.)
The crook of Jack’s elbow was full of David’s lingering fingertips; A question he didn’t dare ask left a sour taste on his tongue. He smiled at David’s far away face, his gaze belonging to a girl,
(agirl,a rotten girl,a girl that wasn’t even Katherine because that would have hurt much less, understandable even. She was an unimportant girl and she would never be enough for Davey, hisDavey)
(A girl.)
and his smile was full of thorns.
—
“I can’t believe-” the words were practically ripped from his throat. “We’s goin’ so fast!”
David couldn’t drive in the technical sense, but he was captaining a true automobile as the Earth did spin. Jack sat in the passenger seat to crow at any poor little commoners that walked along the beaten path, none of them good enough to ride in the electrical engine Mr. Ford had handcrafted himself.
It had been a graduation present from a fellow doctorate student (one with a wealthy father and ill-meaning connections), a spin in his brand-new electric carriage for his reliable old pal, David Jacobs. Jack’s eyes widened to the size of half-dollars as the man passed over the keys to David- David, who had once put the wrong shoe on the wrong foot and walked around crooked all day, too proud to admit he had made a mistake- and they tried to conceal their excitement as the engine turned over for the first time.
He was going to do it. Right here, right now, in this strange man’s car, with clunky work boots on his feet and David’s spectacles sliding down the bridge of his nose.
“I love you!” Jack roared over the engine.
“I’m going to ask April to marry me!” David practically sang into the wind.
Jack’s throat closed up, his skin was set on fire, and he suddenly wanted to see what happened when you jumped from a gadget that was moving so fast.
“Wait, what? Did you hear me?” David’s hair was beginning to grow long enough that it was wild in the gust of the automobile. “I’m going to ask her to marry me!”
(When he was seven, another newsboy- only a handful of months older than him- had asked him if his momma had ever taught him about love. No,Jack had replied, both sour about being outsmarted by a kid who picked his nose and not ever having a momma in the first place. “It’s this great big tree that grows on the inside of our tummies,” the boy went on. “And one day, someone ‘s gonna come along and pick all ‘f th’ fruit on our branches, one by one, until all you have are pretty green leaves. That’slove.”)
(That same boy would kiss him in a dirty alleyway seven years later, and Jack would crack a joke about all of his apples still being intact. The boy would stare back with blank, unrecognizable eyes.)
Jack couldn’t even be angry- he wasn’t strong enough to be furious anymore, not when his days were long and the nights were spent clutching at empty bedsheets. He couldn’t be angry at his good, unselfish Davey, the boy who rubbed at his mother’s aching feet when she spent too long at the factory lines and clumsily darned socks when his sister couldn’t feel her slender fingers. There was no resentment for the beautiful, dark-haired girl who had accidentally collided with David at the grocer’s market when they reached for the same can of something-or-other. She had been nothing but kind to the gentle giant who lurked in the shadows of David’s life, telling inappropriate jokes and interrupting their dates. April always made a place for him at their table.
“That’s the best idea you’ve had all year,” Jack called out, and watched his words dance away in the wind.
—
Katherine had struck him, hard, when he asked her to marry him.
He cradled his jaw with a shock that reverberated around his skull. “Kathy, what did I-”
“You are the most selfish, careless man I know, Jack Kelly.” Her skirts whirled around her ankles- the candy-pink cotton matching other bridesmaids’ dresses to contrast the delicate white lace of April’s wedding dress. David Jacobs was now a married man, and Jack Kelly a desperate one. “We all see how you look at him. There’s not a single person who hasn’t noticed. Get it through your thick, unfeeling skull.”
(“They say,” David’s vows were memorized. His voice never wavered. “That only someone in love would truly understand the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice: a man walks through the Underworld to save his begotten bride, to only turn around and lose her at the very last second. I’ve spent years pouring over that story, wondering why Orpheus would be such a fool, such an irresponsible, lovesick fool, if he truly loved her. But now, standing before my own darling little bride, I understand. I’d turn around for one last look at you. I’d turn every. Single. Time. I’m your fool, April. And I’d choose our fate a million times over.”)
“He doesn’t love you,”Katherine’s voice was heavy with disgust. “And I’m beginning to understand why.”
—
The train ticket was heavy in his palm. “I just don’t see why you have to go,” David whispered. “Who is my son going to learn his bad habits from? Who’s going to teach him how to hawk a headline for extra change? How to poke fun at his papa?”
“He has Les.” Jack’s voice was a barely audible rumble, rusty with misuse. He didn’t talk much these days, Jack Kelly now preferred to linger in the background of conversations, the memory of a bright young man he used to be. Those days had come and gone without much complaint, even if Jack secretly yearned to be so terribly free that he believed in a future for a gangly, fresh-faced boy and a hardened boy with the silver-tongued lies.
(There were rumors, you know. About horrible men and horrible things, about broken ribs and jail time even the Mayor would disapprove of. Jack didn’t do much to dispel the irrational stories people told about him.)
(To prove a lie is false, you must present the truth.)
(Jack didn’t have a truthful bone left in his body.)
A carefully measured silence stretched between them. “Is this about…” David’s hand instinctively reached for Jack’s rough palm- a second of contact, the flash in the pan, their moment in the universe.
He withdrew from his gentle touch, and taking a bullet to his leg
(Jack was twenty-three and alarmingly brave. David was twenty-two and studying to become a doctor. They both cried as David’s unsure hand stitched an unclean wound back together- David, tears of worry; Jack, hopelessly lovesick and falling apart at the seams.)
had been less painful. “It’s about Santa Fe, Dave. Kiss Esther goodbye for me, won’t you?”
The platform to the train was busy, flowing with New Yorkers that had somewhere to be, a place to go, or a person to meet. Jack was the lone soul that took his time to feel the cobblestone under his worn-down boots, the ragged laces dragging against the streets that raised him as their own. His suitcase, a single-handled brown leather
(the only item inside was a bundle of letters, all addressed to David Jacobs)
thing, had never seen a polish rag or repairman’s case, and he felt as if he had the weight of the world to carry with him all the way to New Mexico, where the cattle roam free and Jack Kelly wouldn’t have a broken heart to board up behind slats of wood. The train whistle blew, sharp and piercing, and Jack couldn’t resist his own dreadful hubris; He turned.
And David Jacobs had already disappeared into the swarm of faceless people with their endless inventory of needs to be met, so Jack Kelly got on a train to Santa Fe.
Earnest to goodness, Jack Kelly was going to murder Racetrack Higgins.
No,Anthony Higgins, this was the sort of thing that makes you pull out the tarnished christian name of a friend (or so you thought) you’ve known since he was toppling over on baby-fattened legs. Anthony Higgins would die by the sword of Jack Kelly.
He just had to get this godforsaken Youtube video filmed first.
You’re doing this for the cash, Jack grumbled to himself as he passed through the metal doors of a nondescript building on the Lower East Side- it was the kind of place being slowly taken over by hip and fun corporations promising Asian-fusion bars and eco-friendly thrift stores while edging out the relic businesses built on the backs of immigrant dreams. Jack couldn’t stand areas like this, the air thick with wasted luxury, so he rarely left the barrio. Why would he? Spot Conlon slept in the bedroom next to his. Katherine Plumber and Sarah Jacobs ran the bookstore that bought his baked goods and sold them for decent money. Medda lived down the street with her plethora of children, and Racetrack still beat the known path, doing tricks on the street corner for spare change and internet views. Davey- David. David Jacobs wasn’t there. It was right where Jack wanted to be.
Much unlike the dim studio where he now shuffled his feet, waiting for the perky young PA with bright red streaks in her hair to come back with further information about the video he would be shooting. Jack wasn’t a stranger to this small production company; He participated in a few Youtube videos back before they had millions of subscribers, he played truth or dare with lots of liquor and a complete stranger, he confessed about the first time he fell in love so it could be put to pathetic music.
Cash where you could get it, right?
“Kelly, right?” Cherry Streaks was back with a vengeance.
“Jack, actually,” he corrected.
“So you’re going to stand over there where the little blue X marks the spot and wait until the producer, Adam, starts asking you a few questions. The first one might be a test for our boom guy. Answer honestly, we can pretty much tell when you’re making up a story by this point. After that, the main part of the video will begin. Got it?” She was pointing wildly with a Number 2 pencil that had previously been stuck through her ponytail, and she smelled faintly of jasmine. Jack felt dizzy.
“Wait, I thought this was one of those ‘Choose who’s the best kisser out of ten strangers’ type of deal?” I mean, that’s what Race told me- oh God. Oh Santa Maria. Oh Saint Francis.
The young woman smiled like she was keeping an excellent secret. “Have fun, Jack Kelly.”
Walking off at her ominous dismissal, Jack stood where he was directed. The fluorescent lighting made him sweat under the knowledge that he had virtually no idea what he was doing there, Race had lied to him so that he would participate in some sort of sick, horrible scheme, and for all he knew, behind door number three could be his third grade teacher with a baseball bat and a basic multiplication grudge.
“Jack! It’s nice to see you again.”
Romeo was walking towards him with that easy gait Jack had memorized so long ago- Romeo had shot the original videos on an Amazon tripod and the unfounded hope of human connection, and now he owned the entire shebang. Jack dropped his tense shoulders to give him a warm smile. “Romeo. Boy, am I glad to see a friendly face.” Jack lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “You’ve got a production assistant who actually does work, so I’m assuming we’ve died and you earned a really nice deal in Heaven?”
Romeo barked out a laugh. “If I’ve died, do not resuscitate. I’ll never be able to look at another bodega meatball sub after cooking food bought in a real grocery store.”
“Rub it in, why don’tcha?” Jack punched the shorter man on the shoulder. “Listen, Romeo, you gotta tell me what I’m in for, a buddy totally sold me out for the cash and I have no clue what this project is gonna be like.”
Before Romeo could respond, a tall, lofty man behind the camera cleared his throat. “Darling? We’re ready to begin when you are.”
“Jack, meet Specs. Or Adam, but we all know how well nicknames stick. Specs, this is the old friend I was telling you about.” Romeo ended right above Specs’ elbow, and it was all Jack could do not to laugh.
The man fixed his thoughtful gaze on him. “It’s nice to meet you, Jack. You’ve got a real presence on the camera. Have you ever considered acting?”
“I’m afraid I’m, uh,” Jack flexed a paint-stained hand. “Strictly canvas, as they say.”
Nodding as if that was a phrase people commonly used and not something Jack invented on the fly, Specs then clapped his hands together. “Folks, let’s film this sonofabitch.”
—
“I’m Jack, and I’m a twenty-four year old artist living in New York City.”
“Have you ever been in a relationship?” Specs questioned from behind the camera.
Jack blinked in surprise. “Sure. One throughout high school, another in college and a little bit beyond. I wouldn’t call myself a heartbreaker or anything.”
“Do you stay friends with your exes?”
“One of ‘em, yea. It was more of an amicable thing, you know. She ended up being a lesbian. And I am… not.” His clumsy fingers tugged at a constricting collar.
“And the other?”
“Just because I’m not a heartbreaker doesn’t mean I can’t be a real asshole sometimes,” Jack nervously chuckled. (Davey had laid out rose petals, for God’s sake. Rose petals.)
“Was this girl the high school girlfriend, or the college one?”
“Boy,” Jack quickly corrected. “Man. I guess. He was in college- four and a half years.” (It took him four days to clear away the rotting flowers, the bleeding color slowly seeping into his carpet. Katherine found him delirious with whiskey on the bathroom floor; Sarah couldn’t bear to walk through his front door.)
“How’d you meet him?”
(He twisted in his high-backed blue chair. “It’s habláis in el presente.”) “Freshman year of high school actually. Spanish class. Funny story, actually, that other girl I dated? His sister. Broke her heart for his. He was so mad at me that we didn’t talk for like, months after.”
“It was six and a half months, actually.”
Of things Jack was expecting to see today, Spiderman was more likely than David. A flash mob singing death metal, maybe. Pigs flying through the polluted air.
“I was told to come in. I now see why.” David’s eyes narrowed behind his thin wire frames, different from the heavy Ray-Bans that he had dedicated himself to sophomore year of high school. Jack hated that he looked older, wiser, and all around… better.
Specs cleared his throat before the bewildered set of men (one more angry than the other, both desperately avoiding eye contact) could demand what sort of sick joke this was. “Can you introduce yourself?”
They broke up on a Tuesday, an insignificant, momentary Tuesday. Fourteen months ago. (Yes, fourteen months, like their terrible split was a baby that Jack was nurturing bit by bit. He refused to round down- fourteen months ago, he left David Jacobs.) So when David ran his thumb across his jawline, a nervous tick older than his younger brother, Jack couldn’t fathom why he felt so relieved. Some things never did change. “David. Jacobs.” David’s jaw flexed as he looked into the camera. “I dated Jack for almost five years.”
“Tell us about your other relationships.”
“Unfortunately, I spent the better part of high school and college pining after a total cocksock. Not a whole lot of time for casual dating in between.”
A deep silence permeated the studio as two boom mic operators swapped awkward glances. Jack didn’t attempt to defend himself- he was sort of a cocksock. David Jacobs had asked him to uproot what little life he had in New York and move to Santa Fe for a prestigious, so-accolated-you-could-cry medical school, and Jack Kelly broke up with him over containers of kung pao chicken and scattered rose petals. He was a cocksock, a dickhead, and complete asshole. An ex-boyfriend of mass proportions.
“Okay, so.” Specs was wiping at his glasses with the tail of his shirt. Jack wanted to snap them in half. “Today’s video is entitled ‘Exes kiss for the first time since their breakup’. If you need more explanation…”
“I think we’ve got it.” David snapped, clenching his fists rapidly.
Jack stepped half an inch closer to David and began murmuring under his breath. “Davey, if you don’t want-”
“Don’t call me Davey.” His eyes were alight with flame- Jack’s chest caught fire.
Of all the things that felt domestic when dating Davey Jacobs, kissing him never managed to become routine. Davey kissed like he earnestly meant it. The gears in his brilliant mind would grind to a halt so he could dedicate himself to the lilting curve of Jack’s mouth, a gentle sweep of warmth when the artist’s mouth was otherwise preoccupied with his needless words, and the world would spin on a delicate axis. (Jack’s shoulders rose to meet Davey, the physical ache of being someone’s other half drawing him forward. Davey had avoided him for so long, Jack living on a diet of lingering stares and a brief touch of the hand, that kissing him felt like a dying man knelt at a replenished well. How did they exist for so long without this innate knowledge of the universe? Could he stand to go on a single second longer without the praise of Davey Jacob’s lips?) Of all the things Jack missed about spending his life with Davey Jacobs, kissing him was certainly one of them.
There was a moment where the pads of Jack’s fingertips brushed the nape of David’s neck, a habit borne from the small noise it would draw from the back of his throat, and the steely corporate floor felt more like the worn carpet in the old thirty-second street apartment. Jack could feel his thready pulse with the gentle press of a thumb.
Davey was a fan of the dramatics- he would pull away from a passionate kiss in the middle of a busy New York street to stare into Jack’s eyes, foreheads gently touching and cheeks furiously blushing. Now, he simply drew back. Took a step away. Swiped at his lips with the back of his hand.
Jack felt like he was falling. (“If you ever break up with me,” Jack began. He laughed at Davey’s unexpected shudder, the honest and visceral kind. “Make it quick.”
“What about when you break up with me?” Davey peered over his glasses.
Crinkling his nose, Jack quickly answered before the other boy could detail any breakup preferences. “I’m not an idiot, Dave. ‘M not going anywhere.”)
—
He stared at the limp fifty dollars in his hand. Romeo had apologized, explaining that the people who had organized this got half the cut, and handed them both an envelope- Jack, one with “Tony Higgins” that he planned to run through his shredder, and David, one with “Sarah Jacobs,” which made Jack gawk in disbelief.
Jack didn’t want to walk away; David’s feet were shuffling against the worn pavement.
“It’s funny,” David started. “I listened to a lot of Taylor Swift to get over you.”
He winced. “Sorry?”
“Please. I know she’s been your top artist since 2013.”
(Katherine walked through a worryingly unlocked apartment door. “Is that… Begin Again? Jack, what the fuck are you doing?” She had seconds to worry about the cluster of wilted flower petals her heel had put a hole through before Sarah pointed at the pair of legs sticking out of the bathroom’s entrance.) “Yeah, okay. Fair. But… funny? Did I miss a joke?”
David closed his eyes to roll them, as he so often did when he was trying to be polite, and it hurt to be on the receiving end. “We just had our last kiss. You know, like-”
“I’mJoe Jonas?” Jack interrupted, bewildered. The semi-glare he received in return was all he needed to know- “Right. Dickhead. Listen, Dave- David, why didn’t you tell me you were back in town?”
There was a brief moment where something unrecognizable flashed over David’s face- pity? Regret? Dejection? It was quickly replaced by a soft smile tugging at the edge of his lips, his eyes glazed over with a practiced professionalism. “I’ll see you around, Jack. Have a good day.”
David turned and walked down the street, and Jack just missed the passing moment he chose to look back.
—
Comment on EXES KISS FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THEIR BREAKUP by IncredibleKinsey: those two dudes are all mad and then just make out like that????? yeah okay call me when the wedding happens
u get a newsies veteran card if you have a visceral reaction to any of the following:
- How to Kiss A Girl
- How I Spent My Summer Vacation
- Beth_Harker
- “Jack’s chin goes up, his arms cross, and there it is, after all this time: the opening, the weak spot, the news breaking, and David dives for it. “Prove it.”
- writeitininkorinblood (bonus points if you read the titanic au)
