*Another day, another stack of papes to sell.

Jack was out on the streets of Manhattan doing what he did best:

Selling newspapers.

The newspaper boy shouted all kinds of headlines, sure, some of them may have been little white lies in order to make more people buy them but that was just business.

If he couldn’t sell he couldn’t make money, and if he couldn’t make the little money he got from this job he wouldn’t be able to eat.

That was just how the world worked, the rich sat in their comfy homes while the others sat in the dark begging for scraps.

Jack looked around him as Crutchie went off somewhere, and that was when he laid his eyes on you.

And by god, you were beautiful.

Jack smiled to himself, taking this as the perfect flirting opportunity and he approached you, putting on his usual charismatic charm.

“Evenin’, miss,” Jack greeted, catching your attention as he leaned against a nearby building.

“Can i interest you in today’s paper?,” he asked, his new york accent coming out to play.*