Disclaimer – Titanic and anything related to it doesn't belong to me, otherwise would I really be writing fanfiction about it?
Author's Note – okay, this is my first shot at Titanic. Hopefully you'll all like it. I read a story that was written in present tense and I thought I could do that, and I wanted to try something a little new so yea, enjoy.
"Well ladies, we're almost there!" Cal says excitedly. He looks straight at me, probably hoping for a reaction but I just half smile at him and continue to look at the window. It's just another ship. Another chance for Caledon Hockley to flash his money. Mother on the other hand is eating it all up. She sits next to him across from me, like he was her fiancé. Everyone talks about what a match we make, she's so lovely and he is very wealthy, they whisper in their elite circles of society. Oh yes, he is very wealthy and decent looking. He even bought me the outfit I'm wearing now. He called it a "maiden" ensemble for a "maiden" voyage. His fiancée would dare not travel out of style.
But why is it every time I look at him or he takes my hand I feel like I can't breathe? Why do I feel something is wrong?
The driver beeps the car horn at the people on the dock to move out of the way. It feels like everyone is staring at our car as Cal steps out. He holds out his hand and I take it gingerly. A lady must always get out of an automobile gracefully. This is my first look at the R.M.S. Titanic. It's very large and gleaming in the sun, waiting for its passengers to board. Everything is said to be brand new and that it's the Ship of Dreams.
"I don't see what all the fuss is about. It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauritania," I say. Truth be told I would love this ship and be caught up in all the excitement if it wasn't bringing me back to America for my wedding.
Cal looks at me disbelieving, "You can be blasé about some things Rose but not about Titanic! It's over a hundred feet longer than Mauritania... and far more luxurious."
I turn and look at it once more. It is a rather impressive ship. I don't have much time to dawdle for our maid Trudy is by my side and Mother is handing her things to carry. She looks at me and although her face says nothing her eyes give me a warning look. She'd skin me alive if I messed anything up with Cal. Father left us on our own and she reveres Cal as our savior. She practically threw me at him in hopes to better our fortune. Not that I'm not fond of Cal, it's just…well, I don't know.
Cal looks at me and smiles again as he holds out his arm. Together we walk behind my mother, Trudy trailing behind with that awful manservant of Cal's. What an insufferable man, Spicer Lovejoy. Everywhere you turn he's always lurking behind. Mostly to keep an eye on Cal's "valuables".
As we start to board I wish I could stay in Southampton. On the outside, I'm everything a well brought up girl should be, inside I scream. I feel the chains pull tighter around me. I don't know how long I can stay like this. A whole life seems too unbearable to think about.
Our staterooms are lovely. Cal insisted on only the finest. I take off my hat and Trudy places my coat on my bed. Of course Cal's room adjoins to ours. I hear a knock at the door and walk into the sitting room. Cal is being shown around by our steward and in comes our luggage, followed unfortunately by Lovejoy. I spot a crate that carries the paintings we bought in Paris.
"Miss, would you like me to start unpacking your things?" Trudy asks quietly.
"Yes, but let's start with the paintings," another maid steps forward. She's a little younger than Trudy, probably close to my age.
She opens it and takes a few out. "No, not that one."
"Which one are you looking for?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I take the ones she took out and start placing them around the room.
"It has a lot of faces on it."
"This one miss?" Bingo.
"Yes," she hands it to me. "We need a little color in this room."
I look at it, wondering at the beauty and bizarreness of it. I love art. To create something is such a wonderful gift.
"God, not those finger paintings again. They certainly were a waste of money," Cal scoffs. I don't look at him but I can feel him watching me.
"The difference between Cal's taste in art and mine is that I have some. They're fascinating. It's like being inside a dream or something. There's truth but no logic," I shoot back. He is so narrow-minded. No eye for art at all.
"What's the artist's name?" the maid asks.
Oh dear, I always forget it. I thought I wrote it down somewhere. "Something Picasso…" I think that was it.
Cal scoffs again, "something Picasso! He won't amount to a thing! Mark my word. It's a good thing they were cheap." He takes a sip of champagne.
I choose to ignore Cal, rather frequently but without him realizing. He never notices the contempt I have for him sometimes. I walk past him with a painting of a ballerina. This one will be in my room. It's one of my favorites.
Dinnertime. It's such a game with these people. Mother and I ride the lift to meet the Countess of Rothes after dinner. Cal is with the other men, discussing business and what not. As we walk by a loud woman is heading towards the lift. Margaret Brown is her name; although I've never met her I could recognize her anywhere. She was a little round in the middle and her volume would probably been considered a little vulgar. Mother called her new money. However, there's something about her. I can't help it…I like her.
I stand on the deck, letting the sea breeze blow through my red ringlets as it ruffles the bottom of my nightgown. It's early morning, the sun is just rising. The only thing that can be seen is ocean. All the stops were made and now we are heading towards the horizon. It's going to be a beautiful day. Before Mother wakes and I have to make my rounds as the fiancée of Cal Hockley I just sit here, alone. The only time I can enjoy myself.
Everything has been such a whirlwind-the engagement, the details, and Cal slowly tightening his grip on me. I look at the exquisite ring Cal gave me not too long ago. I play around with it, letting the light hit it making it sparkle. No matter how hard I try to convince myself that I love Cal, I cannot picture myself as Mrs. Caledon Hockley. I cannot look forward to being the high society bride. I feel so out of place, like I was born to the wrong family.
Alone tear streams down my cheek. I wipe it away angrily and push all this nonsense out of my head. I dare not speak it out loud, because then it would only be more real.
Sorry if this chapter is a little boring and if the dialogue is a little different than the movie. I'm doing a lot of this chapter by memory. A lot of exposition went on in this chapter and now I can get onto the good stuff! Haha. Please, feedback is always appreciated!