Decisions &* Scout

[Chance]

Chance sat on his bunk, staring ahead of him, a frown etched into his sleek face. He was silent, and his head was lowered, as he fiddled with a silver pocket watch, clicking it open and shut. He was deep in thought, as he had been a good deal of the time lately, always thinking. Things were really yanking at the seventeen year old's chain lately, and it was really starting to bug him. Not that he wasn't ever not distraught, but it was worse than usual lately. He simply wasn't happy, not that he was a very happy individual, but he knew when things weren't going right.

He switched his gaze from the gleaming silver, tossing it aside onto his pillow, his blue green eyes focusing on his knuckles, black, blue, and red, many scars evident from the number of times they had been stitched up. He never meant to start any of those fights...maybe a couple, but he always had a reason...or did he? He stood up, racking his fingers through his hair and kicking at his bed abruptly. He was always second guessing himself.

He saw some heads lift up to stare in his direction and he gave them all a glare and they turned away shaking their heads. It was nothing new to them, they were all fairly accustomed to Chance's anger, maybe a little too accustomed. He was so restless, always coiled, always ready to strike at a seconds' notice. He was always wound up like a pocket watch. Maybe it was from the years of abused. He used to sit there and take it. He would just sit there and listen to his father disown him, to call him a failure, a worthless little piece of trash. It was his fault his Mother was dead, if he hadn't come along she would still be there, and his father wouldn't be suffering his grief, they could have had a different son, a better son than Chance. Chance knew his father wished that every day. Well Myles wasn't gonna go and jump off a bridge just to make his father happy. He beat it out of there, and he was sure his father probably leaked tears of joys when he woke up a few days later and found him gone. Probably sang the Hallelujah chorus.

Why was he even thinking about his old man now? As if it wasn't bad enough that every time he looked in the mirror and saw that scar he would remember all the things he tried to forget. Time heals every wound? That was the sorriest lie Chance had ever heard. The boy let out a breath, steadying his nerves, and turned to his bunk, straightening it out. This had been his bunk for the past 8 years, this place, this was the only place that had ever welcomed him...somewhat. If it wasn't for Scout he would have been kicked out long ago. She had kept him there all this time.

Lately, she, and many of the other newsies, the only thing they showed him lately was disappointment. Every time Chance came home with a new shiner, or bloodied knuckles, every time he added something to his collection, she gave him that look, and it struck him worse than any of the blows he had received physically. He loved Scout, not only as a sister, or as a friend. He loved her. And he was hurting her every day. He was letting her down. And the sad thing was, every time his eyes met her disappointed brown eyes, he told himself he was going to change, to quit, to reform, that he would do anything to make her glad, to make her proud of him. And then a day later he was back at it.

Staring at the four walls around him, he breathed hard, feeling swallowed, suffocated. The thoughts weren't leaving him. He wasn't happy. He needed change. Space. He had to get out of here before he choked. It was time to talk to her, it was time to tell Scout face to face. He was leaving.

He put his head in his hands for a second, sinking back onto his bunk, trying to regain hold of himself. He wasn't normally emotional and it wasn't time to start now. He took in a deep breath, standing up again slowly and walked out of the room, ignoring the other newsies, he had to focus on what he was going to say to Scout. He walked through the washroom, and past the girl's room, seeing the lonely door down the hallway. He halted in front of it, staring at the wall until he felt ready.

He knocked on the door and cleared his throat, jamming his hands in his pocket. "...Scout? You got a minute?"

[Scout]

Scout

[/color]

Scout sighed as she shuffled through the papers on her desk. Bills, bills, bills, and more bills. Placing her head in her hands she sighed as she leaned on the table in front of her, it was times like this she wished that Queens had a lodge owner, it would take a lot of pressure off her, and that would be a blessing. "Where am I goin' ta get the money for all this?" She asked as she let one hand fall from her head to grab a bill, all these numbers were giving her a headache.

Leaning back in her chair she closed her eyes and sighed, maybe if she took a break and stopped thinking she would be able to come up with all the money that is due. She wasn't going to charge the newsies more to stay in lodge that wouldn't be fair. Rubbing her temples she glared at the knock that came from the other side of that door.

"...Scout? You got a minute?"[/b]

Chance, she should have known only he would come to talk to her at a time like this. Pushing her old chair back she stood and made her way to the door and twisted the knob. Pulling it open she looked at Chance. "Heya Chance, yeah I got a minute." She said as she opened the door wider so he can enter the room and then turned away back to her desk so she could stack all the papers that sat there. "What can I do for ya?"[/blockquote][/size]