I'm back! Yeah, I wasn't motivated to write at my normal time yesterday, but I got eleven hours of sleep last night! That's something new!

Let's just hope that I find inspiration, and a direction. This oughtta be interesting.

Aha! I thought of something... : fluff!

Enjoy! :)

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Race can honestly say that this is the happiest he has been in a long, long time.

It's mid August now, life has been going on as normal as it can get.

Race and Spot have been growing closer daily.

Almost all of Race's time is spent in Brooklyn.

"Just...come back to us, okay?" Jack keeps asking him. "I ain't gonna stop you from going to Brooklyn. All I ask is that when you go, please come back."

Race can do that. He also knows that Jack's just wanting to look after him. He gets that.

Do you think I'd never come back? Race wants to ask Jack.

Right now isn't the best time for Jack either; on account of David having to go to school in a couple weeks. Of course, that won't entirely stop Jack and David from seeing each other. It just won't be the same. When David's going to be off at school, Jack's going to get a little lonely. Race vows silently to always be the one that Jack needs when he's lonely.

So for now, Jack and David enjoy every moment they can spend together. In that time, Race seizes the opportune moment to spend time with Spot.

Spot, who he thinks he has figured out, but he never truly knows.

Race thought that he had his emotions figured out. He truly did. Why is it still so confusing? Shouldn't things have gotten easier?

The tiny problem is that neither Race nor Spot have said the words I love you out loud yet. Does that mean that Spot is too cowardly like Race is? Or does it mean that Spot doesn't love Race?

Race hopes it's the former. 

Even though he can't imagine Spot ever being a coward or scared, regardless of the situation.

Maybe soon Race will say it. Maybe he'll be the one to say I love you first, and he'll watch what happens. He just hopes that the situation won't crash and burn. Knowing Race, though, no matter what, something will crash and burn.

He just hopes it's not this delicate new relationship he has with Spot.

Tonight, Spot and Race are side by side lying down on the roof of the Brooklyn newsies' lodging house. So far, each have seen at least two shootings stars.

Race wishes silently that things will get better in the future, and that happy moments like this will never end.

Up here, it's just Spot, Race, the stars, and each other. They don't need the rest of the world.

"What was your name back then?" Race asks suddenly. "Before you became a newsie? When you still lived with your family?"

"I don't think about it much," Spot admits. "I don't know--I'd rather not say it."

"Yeah, I get that," Race asks, beginning to regret asking that. "I don't think I would say mine either." He pauses. "And we both know Jack's."

They both wince remembering the court that dreadful night and all the horrible things that went down. That night was one they both hoped to forget.

Every single time Race replays that moment in time in his head, it gets worse. And the rage inside of him boils more and more every time he replays Snyder saying Jack's old name and his family history--without giving him any chance to explain, without giving Jack the chance to say that's not me anymore. He knows that he would die if he were put in the situation. He wishes that no one will ever be in a situation like that ever again.

"Why are you so interested in knowing my old name?" Spot asks, rightfully curious.

Race shrugs in the dark. "I guess I was just wanting to know more." A pause. "And it's something that not many can relate to."

"You know how many newsies don't go by their given names?" Spot points out.

"Well, yeah, I know-"

"Otherwise I'd have some strong words for whoever named their kid Boots or Kid Blink."

They both laugh at that.

"Or whoever would name their kid Racetrack."

"That was uncalled for-"

"Okay, maybe it was," Spot chuckles.

Race pushes Spot's shoulder reproachfully but without any menace behind it.

"Your name is amazing, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

Race glows at that compliment, but he's still playing it off like he's sulking.

"But I do get what you mean," Spot says. "About how few people can relate to what we have. Not all the newsies have histories like we do."

"There are many people in the world who don't like those like us," Race murmurs.

"Yeah," Spot responds, not liking that that's true. "It ain't right."

Race shakes his head vigorously. "No, no it ain't. I'm just glad that newsies aren't a part of those people who don't like us."

"Oh yeah, of course."

"Kid Blink and Mush accept Jack and I for who we are. I don't know if anyone else knows or has figured it out, but no one has said anything. And not to mention how most newsies aren't normal when it comes to romantic attraction."

"There's nothing wrong with that either."

"No, of course not."

Spot grabs Race's hand and squeezes it gently. "I'm glad that most newsies aren't normal when it comes to romantic attraction."

Race is so glad that Spot can't see his blushing face.

Race squeezes Spot's hand back. "I'm glad you feel that way. I'm glad that we can relate to a lot of things on all different levels."

"I agree."

"Because there aren't many people out there who know what we're going through, you know?" Race goes on. He sits up, getting more passionate as he speaks. "Most of the newsies were lucky. They were born in the right body. Us? Nuh-uh. It's not like we got to choose what gender we would be born as. I for sure wouldn't have chosen to end up like this. I know that some would, and I know that there are girls out there happy to be girls, and I'm happy for them, truly. I'm not like that. Until I find another newsie--or heck, anyone--who knows what it's like to know that you're different without knowing exactly why, having everyone want you to be one thing when you really want to be another, when it's all inevitable and suffocating, and discomfort with your body--the one thing you can't change--I don't want them talking to me about how they can get what we're going through."

"I think we need to get you in front of a crowd, Race."

Race sinks back down. "The saddest thing, though, is that right now, the only character in literature I can really connect to regarding this is Pinocchio. And even then, not exactly. And he's not real--which in itself is ironic." 

"Race, I know your mind jumps around a lot, but slow down a tiny bit. Who is Pinocchio?"

Race stops for a moment. "Oh right, not everyone has read an Italian childrens' story."

"So how do you know it?"

Race swallows. "When I still lived with my grandparents, before they..." He can't finish his sentence. He doesn't want to bring up years of buried grief.

Spot squeezes Race's hand. "It's okay. Deep breaths." He knows that talking about this is hard for Race.

Race inhales deeply. "They were from Italy, right? So I learned a lot about Italy from them. Anyway, around the time we were born, this guy from Tuscany, Carlo Collodi, wrote a book about this character named Pinocchio. My grandparents had friends who immigrated that year, and knowing that they had a grandchild, they brought a copy of the book with them. My grandparents read it to me a lot." He smiles at the memory. He keeps going. "It's a story about a puppet named Pinocchio carved out of wood by this man named Gepetto who's like his father figure. Pinocchio's alive and his nose grows when he lies--long story; along with A LOT of details--but it's also largely about Pinocchio wanting to be a real boy. If that's not relatable for us, I don't know what is."

Spot takes it all in. "That's cool that you know so much about this. Why do you think not many others really know about it?"

Race shrugs. "I grew up hearing the story only in Italian. I don't know if it has been translated to English yet. Even if it has, it hasn't been wide spread--that I know of. Or if it's even sold in America."

"It sounds interesting."

"If you can't wait to hear the whole thing, I can read--or just probably recite--it to you in Italian."

Spot chuckles. "Not that I would understand any of it."

"Yeah, that's true."

"I miss them," Race murmurs after a beat. "They were the first ones to treat me like a boy. They still loved me, even when my parents' love got tested."

"I'm sorry your parents didn't accept you, Race."

"I was already a handful for them. It's not my fault that I don't think like everyone else. Do they think I like being distracted all the time? That absolutely no one can follow my train of thought? There are so many things I would give if I were just normal."

"Hey." Spot squeezes Race's hand again. "You don't need to be normal, okay? No amount of wishful thinking is going to make you normal anyway. Because guess what? Why be normal when you can be unique?"

Race doesn't say anything.

"Do you think I like you because of your normal-ness?"

"Aren't we establishing that I'm not normal?"

"Fine. I'll put it differently. Why do you think I like you?"

"Because you find me and my impulsive gambling habits--and impulsive everything--charming and attractive?"

Spot sighs.

"I'm really something, aren't I?"

"Stop it."

"You started it."

"Does it even work that way in this situation?"

"I don't know-"

"My point is, I like you for who you are. If I wanted someone who was normal, I would have many to choose from. But there's only one Racetrack Higgins. And since Racetrack Higgins is the one I want, then normal is just going to have to go find something else, because there is nothing normal at all about you or me, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Race cracks a smile. "Thanks, Spot."

"I wouldn't say any of it if it wasn't true."

Race rests his head on Spot, snuggling closer. "Can we stay up here all night?"

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yeah. You?"

"If it means that if I get to stay up here, watching the stars, with the most amazing Racetrack Higgins-" Spot wraps his arms around Race- "then I wouldn't mind staying up here at all."

Spot can't see it--nor has he been able to see anything else Race has done for the past however long they've been talking--but he can pretty much feel Race smiling.

Race is so glad he has Spot. Spot makes him feel safe. 

"So many stars," Race murmurs, looking up. He loves them so much.

Spot smiles. "Goodnight, Race," he murmurs softly.

"Goodnight, Spot."

And there's no way of knowing what exactly made it happen, but not much later, Race falls asleep.

After knowing that the sleeping boy in his arms (who thankfully is not binding right now, thanks to Spot) is asleep, Spot whispers to the open air, "I love you."

He doesn't get an answer.

Just Race's peaceful breathing, and another shooting star.

I wish that some day I'll be able to say those words when you're awake.

And another shooting star.

I wish that when I finally say those words, you say that you love me, too.

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Hold up. Right there. Just. My heart--

Pining is pretty much all I know how to write, because that's pretty much the one thing that I have experience in haha.

So I did some research into Pinocchio because come on; isn't I wanna be a real boy! Pretty much what every ftm trans person has said/thought at one point? So yeah, Carlo Collodi wrote it in 1883 in Tuscany (and since in this story Race and Spot are fifteen, that would be around the time they were born). It was orginally translated to English in 1892, and made it to the U.S. in 1898. And oh my gosh did Disney leave out a lot of details. I'm not going to get into what I found, but woah, not what I remembered.

And yes, I headcanon Race to be Italian. I thought that was common knowledge in my stories haha. Disney described his character as Italian too, so there. I don't care that the real Racetrack Higgins probably wasn't Italian. I wanted Race to live with his grandparents who are from Italy and to have a sliver of a culture from a place that he only has stories of.

I literally go from historical! Accuracy! All! The! Time! to it's my story, I can write it however I want in 0.2 seconds and I don't know if that's a problem or not haha.

Alright, that's all I have to say.

Please, no homophobia or transphobia, profanities, hate etc in the comment section.

Best,

~Your Beloved Author (who really likes the new Disney movie Encanto)