Newsies Script Novels & Stories

James and Lydia were both dumbfounded. Lydia stuttered as she asked, “This mall belongs to you?” I nodded and got the security guards to escort them out. The next day, I was woken up by my phone’s ringtone. “Finneas, quick! Look at the breaking news.” I thought there was something wrong with my product. I immediately woke up. I clicked on the news, and the headline said, [The Dramas of a Wealthy Family. The Real-Life Prince and the Pauper.]

Most likely it was the drug cartel’s crony here to look at the yacht, but if they hurried, they could watch it before the man made it down the dock. Leo touched the play screen. The first shot of the video was focused on a newspaper dated for today. Paper newspapers were pretty much a thing of the past, as ninety-five percent of the world preferred digital. But older generations, and even Grayson, still preferred good old fashioned paper news. Leo had once joked that his friend was an eighty-year-old man trapped in a twenty-four-year-olds body. The shotty and out of focused camera work screamed amateurs from the bat, probably cheap ass burner phone to boot as the frames panned out unsteadily

He hesitated for a moment, but since he had pressing matters, he didn’t argue further. After work, I walked home alone. The setting sun painted the city streets in a warm, red glow. Suddenly, a voice called out behind me. “Tess!” It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it immediately. Hence, I stopped and turned around. The sunset’s rays hit my face, making me squint. The figure hurried toward me, and as they got closer, the blurry outline became clear. To my surprise, it was Claire. She looked nothing like the glamorous, confident woman I remembered. Her hair was messy, her face pale, and dark circles lined her eyes, evidence of long nights without rest. She wore a wrinkled coat that made

“Oh wow..are you like a broadcaster or something “. He poured some oil on my back and massaged it gently,he was a professional and what ever he was doing to me was definitely working and doing a little more than it should. I felt the towel over my ass slip off a little and to be honest I wanted it all off,but I don’t want to come off as one horny bitch so I’m keeping it in. “No ..we write the scripts,the news and their content” “We?” “Yeah came here with some of my friends,we had the Day off,we figured we should unnerve our selves a little”

The fall from grace OPHELIA. Coffee shop, wet evening. “It’s 6pm in Los Angeles and there have been reported cases of bodies found in dark alleys across several parts of the city…” A news report was blaring on the TV hung on the wall adjacent to me. Something I couldn't even be bothered about when I had my own life crisis playing out like a nightmare before my very eyes. I leaned back into the table, fingers fiddling with the documents, about ten of them stapled together at the left edge. The more I flipped through each script the more my whole world blurred from the tears pooling in my eyes.

It was also comforting to know that the house itself was not that humid. After locking the door behind them, Javier and Saiorse returned to the car. They sat there for half an hour before they finished reading the script. The script did not mention anything about mental illness, but it did tell a story about a motivated and mentally challenged child, very much like Forrest Gump.

Diane sat in the broadcasting studio, with makeup, and dressed ready to broadcasting a news, she read the news script on her desk casually, before the broadcast aired in fifteen minutes. A man handed a new papers containing the updated news script, everyone and also Diane got the script. Diane read the script while knitted her brows. "David why this is script different from what we discussed before the broadcast?" Diane stared at the monitor, speaking into the microphone on her blouse where only David could hear from the control room.

The scriptwriter immediately handed the script over to him and he immediately started reading through it. They all stared at him anxiously as he read through the script "are you new?" He asked, raising his head to meet the gaze of the writer, the boy nodded his head stiffly "name?" "Aiden, sir" "Aiden, are you overworked? Are your seniors moving their work over to you? And don't even think of lying, I'll find out" he asked, closing the script and placing it on his lap. Aiden stayed quiet for a while, debating his answer before he slowly nodded his head "yes sir"

he said. “I wanted to.” I smiled, pretending not to notice how intense his stare was. “That’s allowed now, right?” A corner of his mouth twitched like he almost smiled. “That’s the idea.” I walked around his desk and leaned over his shoulder slightly. “What are you working on?” “Script evaluations.” He clicked something on the screen. “Deciding what’s worth investing in.” I scanned the open tab. My eyes landed on a story about a girl who becomes a contracted sub for a mafia lord.