|
|
Post by Mike D. Greaser on Sept 26, 2008 19:56:47 GMT -5
*Spy Bella, haha*
He watched as the coffee swirled in his cup, his spoon doing most of the work. Letting go, Mike watched as the spoon was pulled along with the coffee. Amazing how something so weak and small could work with other weaklings and move something twice its size. Mike smiled. If his newsies could see him now. Carefully, Mike removed the spoon from its place in his coffee mug, tapped it on the edge of the mug, and then set it down on the small table that sat next to Mike’s chair. Well, not really Mike’s chair. It’s really belonged to the man who owned everything else in his room. That is why he was so careful not to get anything on the furniture. He already owed him enough.
And that was exactly the reason why he was moving out. He couldn’t afford it anymore. Mike was hardly selling anymore and therefore was making no money. And on top of that, Mike was taking Alice out as much as he could. He knew that sooner or later she was going to find out about this whole thing and was going to be very angry. He knew their time was limited. But all those dinners and flowers were costing Mike a lot of money. He was falling into dept, and fast. He had to find a way to make more money, or spend less money.
And besides, a leader should be staying in the same place as his newsies. They were getting restless, Mike could tell. They needed their leader to stay with them. “Aw,” Mike thought, smirking, “They need their leader to help them sleep at night.” Chuckling, Mike pushed himself up off the chair that he was sitting on, which was a hard task. The chair was sunken in, hardly a chair anymore but a pile of junk instead. Mike wanted to kick it, but knew that he could not. His landlord would know, he always seemed to know.
Instead of kicking the chair, which he so longed to do, Mike brought his glass to the sink in his kitchen. He chuckled at the memories of what he and Alice used to do in here. He smiled. He missed her. And he had just seen her.
Rolling his eyes, Mike turned and headed back to his living room, if you could call it that. Then, he heard a knock on the door.
(Haha, I just realized how wrong the line about Mike remember what he and Alice used to do in the kitchen truly sounded. But it isn't what you think.)
|
|
|
|
Post by Bella Harris on Oct 13, 2008 17:03:31 GMT -5
((So I just now realized I'm supposed to post, haha. Silly me.))
Bella scampered through Brooklyn. She spent too long in Manhattan with the newsies there. She forgot all about meeting Mike in the tenements in Brooklyn. Thankfully it wasn't too long of a walk - er...run from Manhattan to Brooklyn. Sure, she had to push a few people out of her way, but they could man up and get over it.
Bella pulled the sleeves on her holey blouse over her red hands. She really needed money so she could get a new shirt. She couldn't remember the last time she had really worked. Bella never really sold with the newsies, she escaped and spied on them from afar so she could tell Mike what they were doing. She didn't have time to paint, or sketch because she was busy helping Mike. Almost everything she did revolved around Mike, but she couldn't complain. She just couldn't, she owed Mike her life. Without him, she would've been dead by now.
Before she knocked on the door, she straightened the mess that was her hair. Running through the streets in the wind, and the cold wasn't the smartest thing to do. She blew on her hands and rubbed them together. She hoped they would go back to the pale color they normally were instead of being red and raw as they were now.
She shivered and knocked on Mike's door. Hopefully he was home, he had to be...
|
|
|
|
Post by Mike D. Greaser on Oct 27, 2008 18:04:51 GMT -5
Mike smiled arrogantly as he yanked the door open. Had to be something good; it was always good. Things had been going so well for him, how could it not be good? It almost seemed like Fate had this planned out from the beginning. Fate wanted Mike Dwight Greaser to win, and he would. Blast it, he would win! Thankfully, Mike had everything he needed to win. He had two leaders, at the least, on his side. And with those two leaders came the newsies that belonged to them. He had to gorgeous spies. These spies were doing very well, wiggling their way into the newsies hearts. Last Mike had heard, Bella was dating that blind kid. Blink? Something like that. And Daphne had finally gotten into Brooklyn. Apparently, it had taken sometime. Mike was glad that Daphne was so devoted to this, because he was pretty sure no one else could have handled that. From what Mike had heard, she had made a fool of herself. But she never gave up, and that is what impressed Colon. Or the fact that she was one of the prettiest girls Colon had probably ever seen... Mike chuckled, he had definitely scored with Daphne.
As Mike opened the door, he realize his assumptions were correct. There standing in his doorway was Bella. She looked worse for wear. She was obviously shaken. What had happened? Mike's smug smile dropped to a frown. "What is wrong?" She looked terrible. Freezing and wind blown, almost sick. But worse, she looked frightened. Had she been caught? What had she done? And if so, why was she coming back here?! She was leading the boys right to the source.
He growled, immediately becoming angry. Pulling her in, Mike ignored how cold she felt against his warm hands. Keeping a firm grasp on her shoulder, Mike peered outside. If she had brought them here, Mike would not hesitate... Seeing no one around, Mike slammed the door. It groaned and protested as it hit the door frame with a loud thud. Not even bothering to greet her or offer her something warm to drink, Mike pushed her into a chair.
"What happened?" He demanded again, glaring down his nose at her.
Sometimes this girl was too much. Yes, Mike had offered the job to her and yes, she had done him some good. But she was also a whole lot of trouble. She was hesitant and unsure of the goal. She asked questions constantly. She didn't know a thing about street smarts. She painted, blast it! Sometimes Mike wondered why he kept her around. And he would be damned if this girl brought him anymore trouble.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bella Harris on Oct 27, 2008 18:23:16 GMT -5
"What is wrong?"
Bella shook her head, she was too cold to form words. Stupid wind, and stupid cold. She was freezing, she ran from Manhattan to Brooklyn with what felt like a hole in her pocket. She stole the bandana. Jack's bandana, the bandana that was either going to make her life or ruin it. She was pulled into Mike's apartment by force, she just went along with everything he did.
"What happened?"
Finally, she was beginning to warm up. She was still shivering, but at least she could speak. Bella was a small, thin girl, and small, thin girls didn't do too well in the cold. She could've sworn she almost got blown away at least five times on her way over here. She squirmed in her chair, feeling uncomfortable. This was the first time Mike had been forceful to her. Well, forceful in a mean way. She felt like she was back at her old house, with her uncle. She shivered. Bad thoughts, bad thoughts, bad thoughts...
She decided to answer his question, and pulled the precious red bandana out of her pocket. Bella held it up to Mike, "I got it." She said quietly. When she stole it she was terrified, what if someone walked in? What if Jack walked in, or worse what if Blink walked in? She would've been kicked to the curb, and then she would have gone back to Mike empty handed. And she didn't want to face him when he was mad. Even when he was happy he was intimidating, and it scared her. People who were angry scared her, she was so afraid someone would hurt her again.
|
|
|
|
Post by Mike D. Greaser on Oct 27, 2008 19:36:44 GMT -5
"I got it."
Mike couldn't help but notice how meager her voice was. It was almost as if she regretted what she did. Stealing a quick glance at her eyes, Mike knew that was exactly her problem. She felt somehow guilty for what she had done. Like she was the one committing the murder. Mike scoffed. That girl was getting on his last nerve.
Instead of trying to convince her, like Mike would have done weeks ago, Mike greedily ripped the bandanna out of her hands. "Finally." He smiled down at the bandanna, his little savior. He fought the urge to smell it. For several moments, the room was silent. Mike stood cradling the wimpy piece of fabric in his hands.
Mike became aware of Bella sitting behind him. Why was she still here? He found himself scowling at her. The little knob was so dim witted that she couldn't even tell when she wasn't wanted. Blink was probably tired of her. He growled, and reached for a small pile of cash on the table. Enough to keep her happy.
"Here," he said as he tossed it to her. "Pay." His words came out short, but he didn't care. She needed to get the hint.
|
|
|
|
Post by Bella Harris on Oct 27, 2008 19:49:14 GMT -5
"Finally."
Bella blinked, she had noticed a change in Mike. He seemed ruder, quicker, not as charming as he used to be. She bit her lip and swallowed, what had she done? She didn't want him to be angry with her, good things didn't come to people Mike was frustrated, or mad at. She didn't say anything, it was for the better.
"Here, Pay."
She caught the money and looked down at it. She felt awful, a realization occurred. Mike didn't like her. How did that happen? He was the one who promised to care for her, he was the one who saved her from her uncle. Why was he acting like this to her? She stood up and gave the money back to Mike. "I don't want your money." She said, she wanted his respect back.
What did she do? Was it because of Blink? A few weeks ago, Mike was thrilled she was involved with him. Now he was upset because of it? Maybe it wasn't that, but what was? Maybe Mike just had a dislike against her and saw her as a stupid puppy now. She felt bad...she missed the old Mike, the one that was kind to her. "I'm sorry if I offended you, Mike." She said. He probably was going to go off on her for saying that. He would probably call her words like pathetic, and useless. It was nothing new, she had heard it many times before...
|
|
