Author Note: Ok, brand new fic! I've had this idea for quite a while now, and I think your either going to love it or hate it. I kind of love the idea, but hey, you don't have to read it if you don't like the idea  Thanks for everyone who followed my last fiction, I really appreciated it. Its because of you all that I have the courage to write a new one.

Thanks! Xxx

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What a buzz that echoed though the air that day! It was present in everyone's voice, expression and actions, with constant smiles and shouts full of energy and excitement. The noise of Southampton port rang along with the seagulls, which in their masses had also come to witness this historic day.

The docks were crammed with people. It was one of those few occasions were all people from all walks of life came together, joining in one crowd of shared emotion. Excitement!

All eyes were never really leaving the wonder that sat central in the docks, the one thing that graced the entire sky line if you were standing close, and the one thing that everyone was there for.

The RMS Titanic. The magnificent ship that was about to take her maiden voyage across the seas to America. It was the queen of her time, a miracle ship created with the most careful attention, the best ship every created. It was rumoured to be unsinkable, and that was what started the excitement over her.

Only the wealthy and powerful could obtain a 1st class ticket aboard her, with the interior to said to have had marble from Egypt, gold inlayed into the doorframes from Spain, and the cutlery made with the finest silver. It was true that if you were an 'anybody', you would be taking this voyage. It was not something to be missed.

Yet the ship had a unique quality of allowing this grandeur to take place whilst also allowing passengers of a less advantaged background take part in her glory. Although 3rd class passengers were deprived of the finer qualities of the Titanic, they still got to bask in the luxury of her offerings.

"Dad! Look! Are those 1st class passengers?"

A girl, or young woman, pointed up towards the gang plank that was slopping upwards towards the top levels of the ship. Her father glanced up and nodded. His face was flustered and worn out, yet he smiled at his daughter's excitement.

The girl was dressed in a large, rather tatty grey jumper over a once red skirt, which had faded with age. Over that she wore a bulky brown cord coat which almost smothered her thin frame, and her dark curls were tucked scruffily underneath a grey cap.

Her father was a thin man, with once dark hair now greying. He was dressed in the working class manner, with a huge suitcase and an instrument slung over his back. His daughter also carried packages, but not as large and bulky as his.

"Christine, come on!"

He yelled over to his daughter, who had taken to stroking the horses who pulled one of the carriages that had just arrived. She grinned and scrambled after him.

The Daae family was little, and consisted only of Gustave Daae and his daughter Christine. Her mother had died in childbirth, and their distant family was long forgotten. Gustave worked all his life as a musician, travelling the world to play and write music for those who would give him a job. He was talented to be sure, yet found it difficult to find work due to his lack of status. They had always been poor, yet it had never seemed to affect his daughter, who would follow him to the ends of the earth and back, as music was her life also. She sang along with her fathers playing for her leisure, yet she never thought herself any good, yet alone thought of herself to be recognised.

So the Daae family had taken their opportunity with savings to begin a new life in America. They had scrapped all that they could together and managed to purchase two 3rd class tickets aboard the RMS Titanic.

"A privilege to be sure, darling." Gustave said, gazing in awe up at the ship. "Most of the time places like these are reserved for God himself!"

Christine laughed, yet nodded in agreement. She had never seen such luxury before, and had never seen such wealthy men and women in the same place as herself. She felt very uncomfortable though along side them, as she had never had a problem with their lack of wealth before, until the ladies turned up there noses at her as she passed, snickering behind gloved hands. She felt her face burn up, and quickly dropped her gaze to the floor.

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"My goodness, what riff-raff they are allowing on board!"

"I totally agree with you, Elizabeth. I thought the RMS Titanic was White Star Line? A Line reserved only for those who could afford such privileges."

The two ladies stood peering unkindly at the lesser fortunate than themselves. The porters were unloading their many suitcases from the carriage that had just arrived at the docks. They were dressed in the highest of fashion, and found nothing more pleasurable than basking in their own luxuries and sneering at those who could not afford to do so.

Ms. Kingston, the mother was a very sickly looking lady, and took her pride in a very arrogant expression on her ever wrinkling face. Her daughter, Elizabeth Kingston, was as arrogant as her mother, yet held a magnificent beauty in all her features that her mother had lost with age.

Her hair was bright gold, all pinned back from her porcelain skinned face, and her perfect frame was covered by a very large, cream minx coat. Her sparkling blue eyes were cold and piercing, and her face was so perfectly formed that it would have been a delight to look upon, if she had smiled or stopped sneering.

The women began to ascend up the gangplank toward the 1st class decks of the ship. It wasn't long before they were followed by other very prestigious people, some famous, others with new found fortunes, but all still a mixture of some of the wealthiest people in the entire world.

Amongst this crowd, three men were also beginning to step out of their carriage.

"Well, gentlemen? What do you say to that?" The short gentleman with a rather comical moustache pointed both his arms upwards towards the grand ship. The other men looked on in awe, tilting their top hats back to see the ship in full.

"Id say it was all rather impressive!" His gentleman friend replied, the tallest of the three, with a dark moustache and hair that was swept back in a rather dramatic style.

"A different sort of league compared to the stage isn't it, Firmin? Now this is real life!"

Monsieur Andre nudged his companion, Monsieur Firmin, who nodded vigorously in agreement.

"What do you think, Viscount? Surely you are used to this sort of grandeur!" Monsieur Firmin grinned.

The last of the two gentlemen cocked an eyebrow at them and carried on loading a very disgruntled porter with heavy luggage.

"Gentlemen, it is a ship that is to take us to America. Do not let size impress you. Its not like a luxury we are being privileged with anyway, they are letting all sorts of rats onto this ship…"

The young man trailed off, eyeing some rough 3rd class passengers who had walked by happily. He turned his nose away, and proceeded up the gang plank. Firmin and Andre looked at each other.

"Snappy sort of fellow, don't you think? Maybe this partnership isn't going to be as easy as we thought." Firmin shifted his coat slightly around the collar. Andre sniffed and waved the notion away with his hand.

"Snappy, yet he is paying for this trip, remember. We have to keep in his good books."

Andre and Firmin were the managers of an Opera house in London, with Raoul De Chagney as their new patron. Their trip to America was a financial investment, as they had been invited to take on the task of managing a new Opera house in New York. It would be a fine opportunity for them, as the demand for such entertainment there had become an undiscovered gold mine.

"Do you think Monsieur Garnier will already be on board?" Monsieur Andre looked through the crowds of people, more out of interest than actually searching. Firmin shrugged as he chuckled.

"You know the workings of that man; he won't turn up till last minute or at least try and make a controversial entrance!"

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Christine leapt up onto her bed, which was above her fathers in a bunk bed style. It was cramped, and they were sharing the room with a newly wed couple, yet Christine couldn't help but smile. She sat up again, and looked down at her father, who was pushing their cases under his bed.

"Can we go up on deck, father?" She asked for the 10th time. He let out an audible sigh, and pushed his hair back, yet still smiled tiredly at his daughter.

"In a sec." He patted her backpack that was sitting next to her on the bed. "Unload what you need for tonight, so you won't be too tired to do it later."

She began to take out her sleeping clothes, her wash bag and brush. She had little else of value, until she pushed her hand farther down into the bag, and felt the pieces of paper with a smile.

She pulled them out and handled them with extreme care. One was a letter, which was kept in a now yellowing envelope. She took it out and began to read its very neat handwriting for the umpteenth time in her life. It was a letter from her mother, that her father had given to her for Christine's 18th birthday, which had been a few months ago. It was addressed to her father, a letter declaring her love for Gustave.

Christine's mother and father had been in a mismatched love, as Katie Daae had been from a better off family than her lover. She had defied the wished of her parents to marry the man she loved, only to be doomed to the dangers of childbearing. The letter was the only thing that Christine knew of her mother, along with a tatty photograph of her and her father in France, were they were married.

She placed them carefully under her pillow, and swung herself of the bed. As soon as her feet had hit the floor, she felt something rumble. It grew and grew until it began to scare her. She looked around in panic and placed a hand on the trembling cupboard.

"Dad…what's th…"

But her fathers face had light up, and he had already grabbed her hand, following the couple who had bolted out the room.

"The engines!" He laughed, his expressions now lacking tiredness, but full of life and excitement. "We're off!"

Christine's heart gave a great leap of excitement, and she began to run down the corridors and up the stairs to get to the decks. They flew outside from the doors, and almost ran into the rails around the deck. The crowds of people on deck were nothing compared to the number of people who had gathered to watch the Titanic pull away from Southampton dock.

Although Christine and her father had no one to bid farewell to, apart from their poor lives, they were so caught up in the atmosphere, the waved furiously and happily to the crowds of people down below who were cheering and shouting in a deafening roar.

It was one of the most thrilling moments of her life; like some of those grand moments in history were you wish you'd have been there to witness it. Well now she was! And she and her father would find a better life in America, where jobs were a plenty and the quality of life was rumoured to be luxury compared to that of Europe.

There was nothing that could have made her life happier at that very moment. She waved and shouted goodbyes, laughing with her father and everyone around her. It was an experience she would never forget.