A/N: James Cameron owns Titanic and his characters. I own my OCs (Shannon O'Neal + any I might make up along the way).

Okay so let's get real here for a sec. I haven't updated this in FOREVER... and I'll tell you why. I think the last time I actually posted a chapter of this I was either a sophomore or it was super early in my junior year. Now I'm a senior... that's how long it's been. It's honestly because I just felt like it was sort of an unrealistic plot...well, some parts of it anyways. Plus the writing was absolute crap and I think I can do a lot better. So... I'm going back through and editing this entire thing. I'm not changing the main plot (the sum. will remain the same) but I think a lot of the less important details should be changed around a bit.

I sincerely hope this edited version will be wayyy more enjoyable.

Average Fridays

It was April 12th 2013. Just another average Friday for 20-year-old Jack Dawson. He slowly blinked his bright seafoam eyes open to the early afternoon Chicago sunshine as it cast its warm and radiant orangey-yellow glow over the city, making the glass on the skyscrapers glimmer and the crystal clear turquoise water in Lake Michigan sparkle.

He looked over at the alarm clock flashing on his nightstand. It was 1:13 PM. Jack sighed and forced himself to get up. He made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and take a shower. Even though he didn't have work, he knew he had to get moving eventually, or the whole day would be gone.

He turned the shower knob to hot and removed his pajamas, and then got in the shower. Jack had always liked the shower, because he liked to just stand there and let the warm water flow down his back. He reached up and grabbed the shampoo, realizing that it was almost empty. Fabrizio must have used it again... he thought, scrubbing the soapy blue liquid into his scruffy sandy blonde hair.

Hmm... I think I'll go check out that new exhibit at the art museum today... he thought, reaching for his razor. Jack liked to do most of his thinking in the shower, because it was the one place he could relax and concentrate without his roommate bugging him to play video games.

He finished his shower and returned to his room to get dressed. He opened his closet and chose a lime green t-shirt and dark blue jeans. Once he was dressed, he glanced across the room. 19-year-old Fabrizio De Rossi, his roommate and best friend, was still asleep. He'd known Fabrizio since grade school, and even though he was a year older, they had ended up in the same grade after he repeated kindergarten.

Jack laughed and picked up a pillow off of his bed. He chucked it at Fabrizio. Fabrizio shot up, startled. "Vaffanculo!" He rubbed his head and blinked his eyes a few times. He muttered under his breath as he swung his legs over the side of his bed.

Jack smirked at him. "Want some cereal?" he asked innocently.

Fabrizio shot him a jokingly dirty look. "You're a real figlio di puttana you know that?" he asked, shoving past him.

Jack chuckled at this, Fabrizio loved his Italian cusswords. His friend was so proud of his Italian background. Fabrizio's grandparents were from Italy and owned a pizza restaurant downtown called 'Pizza Palace De Rossi'.

"Yeah I know, Fabri, so cereal or not?" Jack grabbed his blue sweatshirt and walked to the kitchen. He grabbed cereal, some bowls and glasses and spoons, butter, orange juice, fruit, and he quickly made some toast.

"Sure," Fabrizio responded, walking to his dresser. He changed into a white t-shirt and gold and blue athletic shorts, and then joined Jack at the kitchen table.

Jack slid a bowl across the table. "Here ya go, Buddy," he laughed. He poured them two glasses of orange juice.

Fabrizio poured some milk into the bowl. "Thanks, Man," he said, reaching for the cereal.

Jack grinned. "No problem, so what are you doing today?" he asked, shoving an orange slice in his mouth.

Fabrizio shrugged and buttered his toast. "I don't know yet. I might go to the mall, I need to get a new charger for my phone." He held up his smart phone for emphasis. "Then I want to get some more video games," he added.

Jack nodded as he swallowed a spoonful of cereal. "Oh cool." He knew Fabrizio was addicted to playing his video games. He figured video games were to his friend what art was to himself.

Fabrizio gulped some orange juice. "What about you?" he asked curiously.

Jack shrugged. "There's that new exhibit at the art museum, I think I'm gonna check it out," he told him.

Fabrizio took another swig of orange juice. "Sounds awesome." Jack rolled his eyes. He that knew Fabrizio was being sarcastic.

Fabrizio finished his cereal, and then grabbed another slice of toast and spread butter on it. He took a large bite. "Well I'm gonna go, so I can get to the store before there's a huge line," he said, taking one last swig of his orange juice.

Jack nodded and glanced at the morning newspaper. "Okay, see ya later?" he asked.

Fabrizio shrugged and got up. "Maybe...I'll be a while though." He brushed his left hand across his fluffy dark brown hair, smoothing it back to get rid of his bed head.

He grabbed his car keys and sweatshirt, and then left the apartment. Jack sat back and took a swig of orange juice. He flipped on the television while he finished his cereal. Then, he got up and grabbed his bowl. Of course Fabri left his bowl on the table... Jack chuckled and grabbed Fabrizio's bowl, too, he knew his roommate always forgot to pick up his stuff.

He put all the breakfast dishes in the sink and turned on the radio. Apparently it was going to storm later. Jack turned off the radio and grabbed his own car keys. He put on his blue sweatshirt and walked out, locking the door behind him.

Meanwhile in one of the city's richer neighborhoods, 17-year-old Rose DeWitt Bukater was on her way to the art museum. This was the first day in what felt like ages where she was free to do whatever she pleased. She didn't have to go to school because her mother Ruth taught her from home, and Ruth was off meeting with some other high society ladies. Not to mention her fiancé, 30-year-old multi billionaire Caledon Hockley, heir of the Hockley Enterprises fortune, would be tied up at work all day.

She was usually always dragged to fancy parties and luncheons, always controlled and told what she would and would not do, so being completely on her own was a foreign yet pleasant feeling. Cal dictated Rose's entire life, whenever she refused to listen to him or denied his wishes, he'd yell at her or even hit her on occasion if he was drunk or already in a bad mood. And her mother did nothing.

The only reason she was even being pushed into this whole mess, was because of her stupid and irresponsible father. He'd always had gambling and drinking problems, and one day when Rose was only 14-years-old, he'd run off with some Los Vegas showgirls and left Rose and her mother with a legacy of bad debts hidden by the respected DeWitt Bukater name. Ruth had been so paranoid about losing her place in high society, that she'd forced Rose into an arranged marriage with Cal, the son of her ex-husband's old friend Nathan.

This is the 21st century-no one does arranged marriages anymore... thanks for absolutely nothing, Father, you irresponsible and uncaring bastard... Rose thought bitterly. She grabbed her designer purse and leather trench coat, before storming out of the penthouse. As soon as she'd stepped outside and felt the sun's warmth shining down on her, she couldn't help but smile. There was a cool breeze and the smell of pastries wafted over her.

She walked down the street and flagged down a yellow taxi cab. The taxi pulled over to the curb and the window was rolled down. "Where to, Miss?" the driver, a young man with a fluffy black mustache, asked.

Rose started to reach into her purse, but she suddenly had a random thought. The taxi driver tapped his foot impatiently. Rose smiled awkwardly. "I'm sorry I changed my mind, actually I think I'll walk," she decided.

The taxi driver shrugged and rolled his window back up, before continuing on his way down the busy street. Rose didn't know why, but she wanted to walk today. She hardly ever had time to just stop and smell the flowers, breathe in the fresh air and really enjoy it. Besides, the museum was only a few blocks away.

Fabrizio went and got his new phone charger, and then made his way to the video game store. He bought a bunch of games for his new system and some new controllers. By the time he was finished, it was time for lunch. He took the escalator down to the mall food court.

He stood in line and got some pizza and a cola, and then went to look for a table. Just as he found one, a girl bumped into him from behind, and they both dropped their food. They both bent down to pick up their messes at the same time. "I'm so sorry! I was texting my mother and not watching where I was going," the girl apologized, turning beet red. Fabrizio looked up, right at her.

She had long light blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, and her electrifying turquoise eyes seemed to be peering directly into his soul. To him, she looked like a goddess right out of Norse mythology or something. Needless to say, Fabrizio found her incredibly attractive. "It's fine..." he mumbled with a dreamy look across his face.

He noticed that the girl was looking at him funny because he was staring at her. "Are you okay...?" she asked, slightly weirded out.

"Oh...er, yeah. But I should really be asking you that... didn't it hurt when you fell from Heaven?" Fabrizio countered with a sly wink as he quickly scrambled to his feet and composed himself.

"That is seriously the cheesiest pick up line in the world, but you're kinda cute so I won't slap you," the girl replied with a giggle as she brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face.

"I'm Fabrizio by the way, Fabrizio De Rossi," Fabrizio said, holding out his hand.

"Helga Dahl, nice to meet you," the girl replied, shaking it.

Fabrizio grinned mischeviously. "So, you wanna get a table?" he asked.

She smiled shyly at him. "Sure." They found a table in the corner and sat down.

Fabrizio cleared his throat nervously, trying to think of something to say. "How 'bout them Bears?" he asked.

This caused Helga to giggle again. "Oh yes, the Bears. Honestly, I'm really not that into football... but my dad and brother are huge Bear fans. It's their favorite sport," she said.

"Damn girl, how can you live in Chicago and not watch the Bears?" Fabrizio exclaimed, jokingly slapping his hands on the table.

"I didn't say I didn't watch it, I'm just not a huge fan of the sport," Helga laughed, sipping her iced tea.

"What sports do you like then?" Fabrizio wanted to know. He took a huge bite out of his warm and gooey cheese pizza, it was delicious.

"I like watching the Olympics sports like swimming and tennis, probably because I used to do both," Helga replied, biting a forkful of her salad.

Helga stared into Fabrizio's warm hazel eyes as he stared back into her electrifying turquoise ones. They held this locked gaze for a few seconds before Fabrizio spoke again. "So uh... did you grow up in Chicago?" he asked, wracking his brain for something else to say that would ease the tension.

"Yeah, I did. What about you?" Helga asked.

"Yeah, so did I. My grandparents own that pizza place like six blocks down... Pizza Palace De Rossi," Fabrizio told her.

"I thought your last name sounded familiar... my dad loves their cheesy breadsticks!" Helga exclaimed in realization.

"Those are really popular. Damn, I can't believe I've never seen you there. I work there with my buddy Jack, Grandpa gave us both jobs," Fabrizio mused.

"Yeah... maybe we've just never noticed each other," Helga shrugged.

Fabrizio just nodded, tapping his fingers on the table. "So uh... if you don't mind me asking, how old are you?" he asked curiously. "I'm nineteen," he added.

"I'm eighteen," Helga replied.

"Wait... shouldn't you be in school today then?" Fabrizio asked, confused.

"I graduated early," Helga laughed.

"Oh that makes more sense," Fabrizio nodded. "So... are you going to college soon?" he asked.

"I'm not sure yet... I don't really think college is a good fit for me. I really want to be a freelance flute teacher out of my home and a lot of the stuff they'd teach you in a music class I already know since I've been playing for so many years," Helga shrugged again.

"Wow, that's so cool. How long have you been playing?" Fabrizio wanted to know.

"Er... like twelve years or so. I've been playing since I was six," Helga told him.

"That's awesome!" Fabrizio exclaimed with a fascinated grin. "I think that's so cool when people are really passionate about a certain instrument, I can play the saxophone but I suck at it," he laughed.

Helga reached across the table and gently patted his hand. "Practice makes perfect," she sang.

Fabrizio grinned at her and shrugged. "Eh... maybe," he laughed and took a swig of his cola.

"So are you in college?" Helga asked him, changing the subject.

"Nah... not yet anyways. I'm really good with all that computer stuff, so I'll probably end up doing freelance programming or something," Fabrizio replied with a shrug.

"That sounds cool, too," Helga smiled at him. Hearing a soft beeping noise, she checked her phone. It was her father telling her that it was time to get back home. She reached into her purse and took out a sticky note and pen. She scribbled something, and then slid it across the table. Fabrizio picked it up, seeing that it was a phone number.

Helga smiled and put the lid on her salad. She put it back in the bag. "I'm really sorry I have to go. It's my dad telling me to get home, I swear it's like he has some sort of paternal radar. Every time I talk to a guy, he always interrupts me. It was so nice talking to you, call me," she said, getting up out of her chair.

Fabrizio grinned happily. "No worries, and okay, I think I will!" He waved as she walked away. Wow she's hot, Fabrizio thought to himself. He took another large bite of his pizza and pulled out his phone to text Jack.

Jack was standing in front of a large collection of Monet paintings. He admired each one carefully, looking at all the details; color, brush strokes, meaning. Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked it, seeing a text from Fabrizio.

Dude Jack, I just had lunch with this super hot chick Helga that I met in the mall food court! I think I'm gonna ask her out, she gave me her phone number! I'm so psyched man!

Jack laughed at this. He responded:

That's awesome Man! Yeah if she gave you her digits go for it! You totally should!

Then, he put his phone back in his pocket and continued through the exhibit. He stopped in front of Monet's famous Water Lilies painting and smiled. It had so much color and life to it.

At the same time, Rose DeWitt Bukater walked through the exhibit, admiring all of the paitings. She really loved Monet's work. All of the colors and brush techniques fascinated her. She couldn't understand Cal's close-mindedness when it came to the art world.

She stopped to look at the Water Lilies painting, and noticed a man already standing there. "I love the colors in this one!" she exclaimed. Jack spun around to see a girl standing behind him. She had long and wavy vibrant ginger hair, and her eyes were a piercing emerald color. Jack immediately thought she was beautiful.

"Yeah, me too," he replied with a soft smile.

Rose smiled back at him. She couldn't help but find him adorable with his scruffy sandy colored hair and bright seafoam eyes. "Monsieur Monet is my absolute favorite artist!" she said.

Jack grinned. "I'm more of a Van Gogh guy myself, but I also really like Monet," he replied.

Rose giggled. "I'm Rose DeWitt Bukater," she introduced herself.

Jack shook her hand. "I'm Jack, Jack Dawson, nice to meet you," he said. This girl is like...really pretty... Jack thought to himself. They admired the painting in silence for a few minutes, and then Rose looked at him.

"I don't understand how some people don't like art," she mused.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked, somewhat confused at the abruptness of her statement.

"I know this guy who's always saying how buying art pieces is a waste of money and that a lot of these so-called artists have no talent. It bothers me how close-minded some people can be. Art is fascinating... it's self-expression in its truest form," Rose explained. "Do you know what I'm saying?" she asked. She'd purposely left out the fact that the "guy" she was referring to, was her nearly double-in-age fiancé.

Jack pondered this for a moment, before nodding his head. "Yeah, I do. I guess some people just can't appreciate beauty on a more metaphorical level. I like art because it lets me travel to a world beyond reality. Whenever I stare at a painting or a sculpture and try to decipher its meaning, I feel as if I'm in another dimension," he said.

Rose's entire face lit up at his words, and she nodded eagerly. "Exactly! Finally someone else who understands! I can't really describe how I feel when I look at art...it's just like this tranquil feeling washes over me, and no matter what might be going on in my life, it's as if the world just stops and the only thing that matters is colors and brush strokes," she told him with a smile.

"I feel ya." Jack grinned.

"So... you want to meet for coffee sometime?" Rose asked after few moments of awkward silence . She knew how much trouble she could get into for meeting other guys behind Cal's back, but she didn't really care. She was miserable in her engagement. She didn't want to marry Cal. Actually, she couldn't marry Cal. She wouldn't.

"Yeah, sure," Jack replied with a shrug. He smiled warmly at her.

Rose returned the smile. "Here's my number." She handed him a small piece of paper on which she'd scribbled her cell-phone number. She didn't dare give him the home phone in fear that her mother or Cal would answer.

Jack took the paper. "Cool thanks, just let me know when you want to have coffee, I'm usually free," he said.

Rose giggled. "Okay." She walked away, leaving Jack staring after her.

Interesting young lady, I bet she's got a story to tell... Jack mused, scratching behind his ear as he continued to admire the painting before him.

A/N: So hey for anyone who remembers the old version... did you like this better? Or did you like the older one better?

I've taken down all the other chapters for editing, so the content of those chapters will be changed up a bit when you see it re-posted.

IMPORTANT: Does anyone want this to be more "mature" than the original? Like... should I make it more upper T/M rated? If you'd like to see this change, please either send me a PM or let me know in the reviews!

Have a lovely night!