Newsies Jojo de la Guerra & Spot Conlon’s fan backstories!
a/n: hi! so i originally came up with these because my school is doing Newsies as our spring musical and they wanted us to have backstories for depth. so, here’s my backstories for Jojo de la Guerra & Spot Conlon, from Newsies!
P.S.: I know a common last name of Jojo’s is “de la Guerra” but I didn’t feel comfortable using it, so I edited it to “de la Cruz”
Edit: This may grow longer and gain a little more depth the more ideas I have, so if you’re interested in a fall length spinoff, please please let me know! :)
Joseph de la Cruz was the product of two people who weren’t ready to be parents, leading to him being left on the steps of the Sisters’ convent. Upon seeing the small bundle of joy that God decided to grace them with, the sisters took Joseph in as their own and raised him as such. The sisters gave him the name ‘Joseph’ as they had no idea what his birth name actually was. Joseph was the only person who was a constant in the convent. Every other young boy was one who only stayed to get better, get food, or just rest. With all of the boys in and out of the convent so often, Joseph had a lot of interaction with boys his age and older.
Every new face was one that Joseph was excited to befriend. He would run up and introduce himself, exploding with friendliness. He would introduce himself as Joseph and would take pride in it, after all, he was named after the husband of the blessed mother. But, as much friendliness as he exuded, unfortunately it wasn’t reciprocated. Joseph always gave more than he received, but that was okay.
On the day of Joseph’s 13th birthday, the nuns approached him and told him they unfortunately couldn’t house him anymore. He was completely heartbroken, but he understood. The nuns couldn’t afford him anymore, especially if they wanted to keep taking care of the other kids who were worse off than him. It was ultimately for the greater good.
And so, Joseph left the convent. He wandered the streets for a little while, growing more and more dejected as every job he applied for turned him down. Joseph was on his last legs and was ready to give up when he suddenly stumbled across a news stand. Another kid around his age, add or subtract a few years, stood in front of him. The other kid introduced himself and could’ve sworn he heard a little bit of hesitation, “Specs. My name is Specs.”
The hint of hesitation caused Joseph's head to spin a little bit. An internal war flared in his head. ‘Joseph’ was the only thing he had to himself, but it'd gotten him nowhere. The dots finally clicked in his head, this was his chance to become someone new. swallowing his nerves, Joseph cleared his throat and placed a friendly hand on Specs’s shoulder, turning him around slightly to shake his hand, “Specs, huh? Well, you can call me Jojo.”
The two kids shook hands, grabbing the stacks of papes offered to them as they began their first day of work. For 4 years, the two newsies worked side by side, almost never leaving each other unless they absolutely had to. While they knew not to mix their personal lives with their work lives, if you look hard enough, you can always see one messing with the other in some way.
Jojo made several friends along the way, one being a certain brooklyn newsie leader. Spot Conlon practically adopted Jojo, using his older age to be an almost foster brother to him. After the newsies’ strike, Jojo ran as far and as hard as he could to his friends in the Bronx. Collapsing after ending up on his friend Splasher’s doorstep, he ended up being brought to the hospital by him.
Through mutual friends, word made its way around the different newsies’ Squares and Spot heard through the grapevine that one of his best friends, someone he viewed as another little brother, had been hospitalized by the Delancey brothers, and by extension, Pulitzer. Spot rushed over to where Jojo was being held, staying by his side, day after day. Some of his cronies had come to tell him that some of the other newsies needed them again to help beat them back, but he stayed still. He stayed by Jojo’s side.
“I’d just been with the boys down at Jacobi’s…What am i gonna do Spot, Am i really gonna die here?” He’d sounded so broken, nothing like himself, and yet SPot kept his firm and reassuring grip on Jojo’s hand. “You ain’t dyin’, not now, not ever. You’se strong, Jojo. You’se stayin’ alive.” Jojo knew his organs were failing, he knew that being beat so badly by the Delancey’s and pretending it didn’t bother him would kill him if he didn’t get himself treated accordingly, and guess what? It was killing him.
Spot hadn’t the slightest idea that his little brother’s Friend’s insides were doing as awful as they were. HE thought that at worst the Delancey’s hit him a little too hard and he just was being a little dramatic. So, when Jojo grabbed his hand tight and whispered, Spot let tears roll down his face.
“The Newsies… They need your help, Spot. Don’t fail ‘em… Be there in my place. Please.” The younger boy begged him, Spot’s eyes widened and a pit opened in his stomach, “Jojo…You’re talkin’ like you’re dyin’ or something..!” He laughed nervously, “Thank you for takin’ care of me, Spot. I’ll be forever grateful to you.” Spot’s heart rate picked up when Jojo’s eyes began to close, “Jo! C’mon, open your eyes, don’t close ‘em! Not yet, not yet!”
But Jojo only smiled before saying one last thing, “Newsies need your help today.” The once tight grip on Spot’s hand disappeared, causing Spot to scream his name, “Joseph! Quit playin’ with me! Wake up!” He shook his body a little, receiving no response. “Hey! We need a doctor here!” He screamed over his friend, small sobs leaving his mouth as he lost his little brother all over again.
His face dropped into Jojo’s stomach as he sobbed, “S-Say hi to Little Ike, wouldja? I know he’d love ya…”
Born into a very loving family, Sean Patrick Conlon was an older brother of one Michael Conlon, who he always called ‘Ike’ to mess with him. Their age difference was one of 5 years and yet they were practically inseparable. Sean was the breadwinner of the family, due to the fact that his father had been in an accident involving a printing press at The New York World’s Office, run by Joseph Pulitzer. His mother used to be a maid, but after her husband’s injury, she stayed at home to take care of him full time, which led Sean to get his job. Sean was an incredibly kind and loving brother while having to worry about the family’s financial situations; the young boy had so much on his plate, yet he made it all look easy. There was a reason why Ike looked up to him.
Sean worked at the Town mill daily. One day, he came home to his father and his mother crying in their living room. Incredibly alarmed, he ran to their sides, “ma, Pa, what’s goin’ on?!” He asked. He was met with his mother’s heartbreaking cries, leading him to turn to his father for an answer. “Michael’s been taken to the refuge by Snyder…” He said flatly, devoid of all emotion.
Sean’s entire world stood still for a moment. His tiny little brother? What did he do? More importantly, why wasn’t he there to protect him? Now, Sean was a lover more than a fighter, but when it came to Little Ike, he’d fight someone to the death. “What happened…?” He asked quietly, too scared to ask louder.
“He was playin’ outside with the other kids, and all of sudden I hear him screamin’ and I see him gettin’ thrown in the back of some car with that spider drivin’.” Sean stood and nodded, not knowing what to do with himself. So, he did something to distract himself. He walked into their kitchen and began to make dinner, as if nothing happened. He had no idea what else to do. Usually, he’d use this time to hang out with Ike and get him ready for bed and everything else.
Sean’s birthday was tomorrow, and no word from Ike in a good month. It was breaking his heart, his 14th birthday was going to pass and his little snot of a brother wouldn't be there to celebrate it with him. He walked into his house and like 3 months ago, his mom was sobbing in the living room, laying in her husband’s arms.
“Mom…Dad…? What’s goin’ on?” The fear he felt caused his voice to shake, were these tears of relief? Unlikely, but he tried his best to remain optimistic. He stepped closer, causing his dad to hold up a hand to stop him. His heart clenched, his dad wasn’t usually like this. “What’s goin’ on…?” He repeated, a little more sternly now.
“Your brother. He’s dead.” His father said as if it was a report of the daily news. Stumbling backwards, Sean collapsed. His entire world crashed down on his shoulders as he began to cry. His little Brother Ike was gone, just like that, and he couldn’t do a single thing about it. “Snyder killed ‘im.” He continued, looking at his older son crumpled on the floor.
“And you wanna know the real kicker…?” Sean looked up, his father’s figure blurry from the tears, “He’d still be here if you weren’t such a screw up. If you’d been here and you’d been protecting him…” His father shook his head at him,
“But, dad, I was-” Sean tried before getting cut off, “NO! YoU WERE JUST NOTHIN’. Michael’s DEAD BECAUSE YOU WERE TOO WEAK TO PROTECT HIM!” His father had never even ended a conversation without telling Sean he loved him, so his father yelling such awful things at him caused his head to spin. He flung his head towards his mom to silently beg for help, and yet it never came.
“M-ma, please, I-” His mother composed herself for a second, “Do not call me that. My only son is dead.” Sean gut-sobbed. “Where’s this all comin’ from?! It’s not my fault, I-I- I’m the only one workin’!” He pleaded, only getting threatened by his father once more,
“Get out. I never want to see you again.” His father spat before turning around and sitting back down with his wife. Sean sprinted to his room and grabbed the only important thing to him. He grabbed the hat that Ike had gotten him for his 13th birthday and placed it on his head before running out of his home and never turning back.
And so Sean made his way from Manhattan to Brooklyn. With such a large physical gap between his old life and this one, he figured he oughta completely start over, so he adopted a new name. It required no thinking at all, Spot. The name that Ike used to call him, back when he couldn’t pronounce Sean. It was a no Brainer. Placing the hat on his head, Spot began his journey to becoming the toughest he could. HE wanted to be the bravest and the strongest on top of that. He wanted to be what he wasn’t as Sean, because that was what failed Ike, wasn’t it?
That was what failed him.
This new persona that he’d adopted had led him a little too far in the wrong direction. People were scared of him alright, but a little too scared, and it killed him. He’d thought becoming a newsie’d make him more likable, but everyone stayed scared of him. Everyone was scared of Spot, everyone but one newsie.
When Jojo de la Cruz pushed his way into Spot’s life, he brought a ray of sunshine everywhere he went. The two grew close very quickly, ending in Spot practically adopting the younger newsie as a younger brother. Jojo soon knew everything about Spot and vice versa. The two had an unspoken bond from their meeting, so when Spot found out through the other newsies that Jojo had been hospitalized, he practically flew over to him.
He couldn’t handle this. This was the second member of his family affected by Pulitzer indirectly. Day after Day, Spot was at Jojo’s side. He cared about nothing other than his little brother closest friend. Several of Spot’s Cronies tried telling him how badly the other newsies need him but he wouldn’t budge. Not while Jojo was practically fighting for his life.
On one of the days, Jojo cried to Spot.
“I’d just been with the boys down at Jacobi’s…What am i gonna do Spot, Am i really gonna die here?” Jojo had sounded unrecognizable to him. The usual lilt in his voice was gone. Spot had squeezed his hand tight and reassured him,
“You ain’t dyin’, not now, not ever. You’se strong, Jojo. You’se stayin’ alive.”
Spot hadn’t the slightest idea that Jojo was doing as awfully as he was. HE thought that at worst, the Delancey’s hit him a little too hard and he just was being a little dramatic. After all, Jojo was silly like that. He liked having people care about him. He liked being protected. So, when Jojo grabbed Spot’s hand tight and whispered, Spot knew something was wrong.
“The Newsies… They need your help, Spot. Don’t fail ‘em… Be there in my place. Please.” Spot’s eyes widened and a pit opened in his stomach. Those sounded like the words of someone dying. He laughed, nerves fraying his laugh. “Jojo…You’re talkin’ like you’re dyin’ or something..!”
“Thank you for takin’ care of me, Spot. I’ll be forever grateful to you.” Spot’s heart rate picked up when Jojo’s eyes began to close. A crushing pain soared throughout Spot’s body as he fought back tears.
When he’d originally come to Brooklyn after the incident, he’d sworn to shut off every emotion. Yet, when Jojo forced himself into Spot’s life, that promise had been broken. Every emotion had been let out, except one. Jojo hadn’t gotten him to cry once.
Coming back to the present, ignoring the slight reminiscing, SPot shouted at the younger boy. “Jo! C’mon, open your eyes, don’t close ‘em! Not yet, not yet!” But, his only response to the older newsie was a smile. “Newsies need your help today.” And those were Jojo's final words.
“Joseph! Quit playin’ with me! Wake up!” He shook Jojo’s body a little, receiving no response. “Hey! We need a doctor here!” He screamed over his friend, small sobs leaving his mouth as he lost his little brother all over again. His face dropped into Jojo’s stomach as he sobbed, “S-Say hi to Little Ike, wouldja? I know he’d love ya…”
Jojo had gotten him to cry.
When Spot walked away from Jojo’s memorial and funeral,, he twisted the ring around his finger as he fought tears. Jojo had made it for him, It was a silver ring with spot and Jojo's initials carved into it. If it were anyone else, the other newsies would’ve ridiculed the hell out of the ring, and the two newsies, calling them names and being overall jerks about, but what’d you expect? A bunch of teen boys with no one to teach them what respect was. Though, it was Spot, and it was Jojo. Everyone knew better.
So, when the Brooklyn newsies had to help out Jack Kelly and his newsies, he swallowed hard and thought of something inspirational, Something driving, and something that’d get everyone going, even if he was the only one with a personal attachment to those words. He held his hand up in the air before yelling his chant,
“Newsies need our help today!”
