It's my own little pll-ified tribute to the great ship that now serves as an eerie grave and an adventurous reef to the Atlantic's below. Sorry if it isn't totally factual!

Aria

It was 1922, the roaring '20's as history would remember it. But Aria didn't know how roaring it was supposed to be. How could she? She only saw it as a sad and lonely world without parents or love. Ten years ago Aria had travelled, with her parents, on the RMS Titanic. Unsinkable. Please.

She had been a Russian immigrant, barely speaking a word of English when the ship docked at it's final harbor. She had been very small for her age but had an attitude that made her forty feet tall to everyone who knew her. A day into the trip she had met another third class passenger named Jack who had given her the nickname Cora because of her choral pink cheeks. The day after that she met, who she assumed, was Jack's girlfriend – Rose. Rose had had beautiful cherry red hair that matched her glittery party dress. Aria had been so envious at the time.

The last time Aria saw the pretty red head was the night Titanic foundered. She saw Rose and Jack running through the halls, laughing and giggling. It was them who had given Aria hope. If a rich girl like Rose could fall in love with a penniless drifter like Jack, maybe Aria could make it big in America, even if she was a mute foreigner. But Aria's fantasy was cut short when saw ice crumble over the deck . Even at eight she knew that was bad.

Aria had tried running back to find her father and mother, but was stopped short. A thick lady with piles of fur on hoisted the girl onto a lifeboat. Aria tired to make the woman understand, using the few words Jack had taught her. "Mama! Papa, 3rd class, bottom ship!" Aria had tried over and over again but the lady, who in all fairness was trying to be kind, just hushed her.

"Now, now sweetie I can't let you go back. You'll never find your way to the boats!" She had saved Aria's life, which she knew, but it still bit at her. The idea that maybe, just maybe, Aria could have found them and gotten back in time. But now here she was. All she had left to remember the experience first hand (besides memories) was a thick gold pocket watch that a first class boy had given her all those nights ago. Wherever he was she knew where he wasn't. Eighteen, poor, living on New York's finest fire escapes under a new last name and looking up at a large board that read, Ten Year Anniversary of Sinking Unsinkable Ship, Titanic! Cheers.

Ezra

He looked out from his window, peering across New York, barely making out a board that said Titanic. Titanic, ship of dreams. Ezra had been a ten year old boy, travelling back from Europe with his parents when he boarded the RMS Titanic. Luckily for him, he had escaped the ships demise with both parents. He considered it a gift every day that he was even alive, but his mother and father as though it was a burden.

Ezra remembered how mortified he had been when his mother droned on and on in the lifeboat, "Oh! The Cartier! I left my rubies in there, too, Harold! Goodness I hope we are reimbursed fully for this!" Ezra had glanced over at a thin woman who was crying, looking at a picture. Ezra had inclined his head to see that the picture was of her husband and teenage son who, because of their age and social standing, had not been let on the boat. Then he looked across the boat to see a girl, around his age, with a thick mess of blackish brown curls and tears streaming down her porcelain cheeks. "Papa! Papa!" she kept screaming towards the boat, her small hand grasping for someone who wasn't there. He had seen her before. Only earlier that day and one other time. He had been playing with a spinning top when she ran along the deck to a blonde boy who looked many years older than them.

They had mumbled in broken English, well on her end at least, to each other then she scampered off. He had noticed each time that she had a bow in her hair. Ezra looked down, noticing the moon light hitting his golden pocket watch, barely tucked under his life preserver. He made sure his parents weren't watching as he unclasped it and slid it into the girls hand. Her big chocolate eyes asked a question that her foreign lips couldn't but Ezra had just nodded and slid back towards his parents. He didn't speak to her after that.

Aria

I glossed my thumbs over the shiny gold cover of the watch. I was so hungry. So hungry it hurt to walk, and even more to sit still. I knew if I sold it I could keep myself fed for a month but I could part with it. Tears slid down my cheeks as I sucked back the hunger. I noticed a small gathering taking place below me, and a man speaking about the Titanic.

I clutched the end of my worn frock and climbed down several escapes till I hit granite. It was chilly and I was glad I had a wooly knit cap to cover my ears as the wind picked up. I noticed a picture of myself aboard the Carpathia and cringed. I looked half dead. But close to me was the little boy who had given me the watch. I smiled at the sight of his face, even if it was marred by the splotchy picture. I didn't hear whatever the guy was saying about 'the greatest tragedy in America' and blah, blah, blah. He listed off all first and second class passengers who had lost their lives, not a long list, but not any third class passengers. They wouldn't have cared about Ella and Byron Montklisovk.

I had had more than I thought I could endure of having my past drug up. I turned around but quickly fell to the ground. "Watch it!" I yelled. My English had gotten much better, as you can see. I saw a man's hand pick up my pocket watch. MY POCKET WATCH! "Hey, that's mine! Please don't take it it's all I have." I know I resorted to groveling quickly, but I needed it back.

I finally looked at the man's face. He was young, around my age. His slicked back brown hair and husky blue eyes were so familiar. He thumbed the, marveled by it, "Actually it's mine." I was so scared he would run with it. He was dressed like someone who could afford it twenty times over. How could he be so cruel?

"No! I've had that ever since I was eight, it's all I have! Please!"

He looked up at me, "Are you the little girl who . . .?" he paused, I was trying to wonder what he was trying to ask. "You were the girl on the life boat!" I stood there, my jaw slack.

"You're the first class boy?" I asked. We just looked at each other for the longest time. "I don't know what to say." I said with a thickly emotional voice.

He looked down at the watch momentarily before placing it in my hand, "Please don't think I'm forward, but you are all I have thought about over the last ten years! I can't believe I'm seeing you again! Are you hungry?" he asked. I looked down at my filthy clothes and then to his crisp clean vest and slacks.

"I don't want to embarrass you." He was the only rich boy I had ever had any respect for. This was surreal that we were here, after all the years which had fled by.

It took him a minute to understand, "You're not an embarrassment. You're lovely." I couldn't help my smile emerging. "See! How can a smile like that be embarrassing? Please just come with me, so we can speak? I never even knew your name."

"It's Aria. Okay . . . I'll go with you. Please just get me away from that." I pointed behind me and he looked up. He smiled. "What?" I asked.

He shrugged, "Despite the circumstances it's a nice picture of us." I gave a shy glance back at it. I noticed for the first time the watch in my palm. The smile on his face. The way he was looking slightly over at me. The way I was looking over at him. I felt his big, warm hand close around mine. "C'mon. Let me buy you some food." I followed along behind him.

"Really you don't have to! You don't even know how much this watch saved me, already." I tried to argue, secretly hoping he wouldn't send me away.

"Aria, if you are so worried about your appearance, I will buy you some clothes!" he pushed. I stopped. "What is it?" he asked, worried.

I looked up at him, "Why are you being so nice to me? We only knew each other long enough for you to hand me a watch and now you're here in front of me not two minutes and trying to give me the world!"

"Aria, a set of clothes is hardly the world. And you have been the only thing on my mind these past ten years." I understood exactly how he felt. "You and only you, so I think it proper to spend some time with you. Come with me." I shook my head lightly as he led me into a department store. "Get anything you want." He whispered. It took only moments for me to notice every person in there knew I didn't belong. I wasn't one of them. I thought it a little silly when I saw Ezra's expression get protective as he noticed the same thing.

I stepped in front of him and smiled, "You'll have to excuse me, all! I have to be at the theatre in an hour and must stay in costume till then. I know I must look affright!" I tried to put on my best brainless yuppie front and could tell Ezra was impressed as the mood of the store changed drastically.

"You're quick." He smiled.

I looked down, "You learn how to navigate a room when you live on the streets." I pursed my lips bitter sweetly.

"You're on the streets?" he asked quietly.

"You knew I was poor, Ezra. Isn't that the reason you gave the watch. To hock it?" I assumed.

He shook his head, "I didn't know it was that bad. And I gave it to you in case you needed to hock it, but more so you knew that there was someone out there who knew you existed." That touched me on a level I couldn't describe. "Aria you can't be on the streets."

"I've made it ten years! You don't have to worry about me, Ezra. I'm not your burden."

"No, you aren't! But, Aria, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knew you were in the cold every night. Just come live with me. I have a big apartment –"

Aria smirked, "I bet you do." She looked around, "This is crazy . . ." she laughed

"I know! That's why I trust it!" He grabbed my hand. "Aria, I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm not asking you to think I'm your savior! I'm just asking you to let me take care of you. Help you live. We survived one of the worst things possible, I'm not about to knowingly play a part in the idea of you dying. Okay?" he was so gorgeous. He was my angle, even if he was convinced he wasn't.

"Well . . . I do like that dress . . ." I pointed over to a shimmery mint flapper dress. Ezra chuckled.

"Madeline? Could you help my friend find some outfits?" Ezra ushered over some girl around my age and introduced us, "Madeline is a friend of my cousin's and of the family. She'll help you with anything you need and I'll roam around the lobby of the store, okay?"

"O-okay . . ." I whispered, letting Madeline take my hand.

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