The S.S. Katherine is the most elegant and expensive steamboat from the Pierce cruise line. Competing with hundreds like it, it remains the most talked about ship with the media and has managed to keep four out of five stars in all its years of service.

Elena fumbled with the bright blue ticket between her fingers. She gnawed on her lip, uncertain, and thought twice about what she was going to do. Beside her was a bright gold luggage cart that contained suitcases and bags galore, each of them holding her most prized and necessary belongings. She could not believe that she was so close from doing something this...drastic. How could she ever bring herself to leave New York? The city held countless memories that she would never be able to erase from her mind (even if she wanted to). New York held a familiar scent of meaning to her from the hotdogs stands near Central Park to the sweaty tang of human body odor in Times Square. There were, on occasion, celebrities. There were tourists. There were museums and artists and writers and television and shows and Saturday Night Live and Broadway and everything she could never imagine herself leaving behind. Mostly there was her apartment, filled with pictures of things she would never see again and people she could never hold again. How could she ever leave it all behind?

The answer? She couldn't.

Even if the blue piece of paper was worth a lot of money. Even if it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. She was never one to take risks, anyway. She was a journalist. She liked staying at home and writing movie reviews and interviewing local businesses that were overlooked by the bigger corporations. She loved jumping in a van to buy a cheap purse that she would never use and then go home and write it all down. How the sellers looked when they asked her if she was a cop. How they scouted the streets like hawks as she dragged herself inside of the van, eager and anxious...

But this? No. She could not do this.

So...why was she standing here with her luggage? What had possessed her to actually pack her belongings and meet up at the dock? Her ticket suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. She let it slip through her fingers and fall to the ground. Just when the wind was about to carry it away, and she was done staring at it, she decided to pick it back up. As she knelt down arm extended, two pale fingers came forward and snatched it off of the concrete. Elena looked up, startled.

"Careful, somebody might try and take that off of you."

The bright white smile of her friend made her instantly feel guilty. Seconds ago she was considering on backing away and mentally slapping herself for even thinking about doing what she was supposed to. How idioic of her to forget that Rebekah was more excited than a little girl in a new dress. "Right, thanks." she laughed, taking the evil blue paper back in her hands. Her eyes travelled to the luggage cart that was trailing closely behind her friend. It was silver and more complex. Obviously more expensive, but that was Rebekah for you.

"Oh no." Rebekah frowned suddenly. "Don't tell me you're chickening out."

"I'm not," Elena countered quickly, brow creasing. "I just..I'm thinking about how much I'm going to miss it here."

"Elena," her friend sighed. "We talked about this. The more you think about it, the worse you feel. Just get on board and next thing you know we're in England. That simple." It was then, as her friend turned, Elena noticed the wide variety of people shuffling around her. They, too, had luggage carts piled with bags and purses and Elena briefly wondered what would happen if one of those carts toppled into the ocean by mistake. It was quite busy and she watched as the people scattered like ants to try and make it onto the ship. There were women with their expensive fur coats and men with their gentleman-like tuxidos. There were children with pretty bows and little trousers racing each other up the ramps only to be stopped politely by the ticket masters. The other future passengers looked excited and happy. So why wasn't she? Rebekah clapped her hands and waved over some sort of bus boy. He looked to be in his early twenties and Elena almost laughed at loud how obvious the next few minutes would go. Rebekah would charm him with her beautiful English ethnicity, beautiful eyes, and large breasts. He was a typical New Yorker falling all over the proof that there was more to life than tall buildings and taxis. Soon the poor lad was carting around both Rebekah's and Elena's luggage, promising to store it safely just for them.

"Do keep them safe," Rebekah ordered, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. "I have...valuables...in there."

He nodded politely and then urged them forward to the ticket master. Elena took a deep breath, legs trembling in anticipation. Here she goes about to throw the entire past year away. Well, not away entirely, but well away enough that by the time she came back to it she would be a different person. She would make the transition from New Yorker to tourist - something she never thought she'd be in her entire life. Tourists were ugly people that walked around in boring trends and held pointless maps in their hands. This subway took you uptown. This, downtown. How freaking hard was that? Stay away from Central Park at night. Never take the subway without a buddy. Keep your mouth shut because nobody was afraid to shut it for you. Now she would become part of the unknown. Nonetheless, on a ship that was sailing further than she had ever been in her entire life.

"Hello." the master greeted them, taking Rebekah's ticket and stamping it with some sort of official watermark. Rebekah crossed the ramp and stepped foot onto the ship, turning around to squeal as Elena followed soon after.

That was it.

Simple as that.

"We're on! We're on!" Her blond, british friend cheered. She earned the two of them disgusted looks from the richer, more fanciful passengers that made no notion that boarding the most elegant ship of the most top notch cruise line was any big deal at all. Rebekah, who often prided herself in money and appearances, cleared her throat and tucked her chin into the air. "I mean..come, Elena. Let us check in for our rooms."

Elena laughed and followed obediently, trying very hard to forget the fact they would be making port in less than two hours. Their rooms were standard. Yet even for standard they were truthfully beautiful. Complete with two queen sized beds, a bathroom with a shower and tub, a small kitchen area, and dining room, Elena wondered what the Golden Rooms looked like. Those rooms were reserved strictly for rich passengers like celebrities and presidents and CEOs.

"Mine!" Rebekah screeched, throwing herself obnoxiously on the bed closest to the wall.

"Argh," Elena growled. "I wanted that one."

"But now you must take the one by the door. Which is better because if a murderer comes in, he'll get you first and give me time to escape."

Elena shook her head in disbelief. "You're unmanageable."

The two guys lay on their own beds in silence, listening to the waves crash against the ship somewhere outside the window. They could hear feet down the hallway and they could hear whistles blowing and people walking to and forth the entire ship. It was silent for a very long time before Rebekah whispered out, "We're on the S.S. Katherine."

"Yes, I know."

"Elena, do you know how many people would kill to be on this boat?"

"Yes, I do."

"We're here. We're on it. We're going to England."

Elena propped herself up on her elbow and blinked gratefully to her friend. "I'm sorry for giving you such a hard time about going. I know how much it means to you. I should of..been more understanding."

Her friend nodded and peered to glance at her. "I'm going to see my family. After six years...I'm going to see them again."

Elena smiled, stood, and wandered toward Rebekah. She reached out to place a hand on the arm of her friend. "Yes, you are. And it will be wonderful."

"You'll stay with me, right? You won't abandon me in the middle of the ocean, will you?"

"Never."

There is, of course, a celebration that will take place in the Grand Ball Room. This event is specifically for VIP passengers and those that purchased the Grand Ball bundle that granted them immediate access to all parties, events, and gatherings that would take place in the room during the course of their cruise. For lower class passengers, an outdoor gathering on the dock. Both of these events are a celebratory tradition as to the start of new, safe, and successful voyage from New York to Venice while making port in places like Dover and Malaga. One of the longest and most terrific cruises, this year's is promised to be a grand one. For starters, aboard the ship is the one and only Mr. Ronald Pierce himself while he tackles the voyage on his most prized possession named after his most prized daughter, the S.S. Katherine. Along with Mr. Pierce is another family known for their exquisite taste in Italy's finest are the Salvatores. Mr. Giuseppe Salvatore, CEO of the most exclusive real estate business in Italy, is accompanied by his two sons and plans to reconcile with his good friend Mr. Pierce. Finally, Mr. Bill Forbes, head executive of Pierce Cruise Line Security, is rumored to show the S.S. Katherine the best top notch security system it's seen in years. With these three wealthy and business-royalty families aboard, the voyage is sure to be a huge success.

In the midst of taking a small sip of his champagne, Damon Salvatore was shoved roughly from behind. In a state of rage he whirled around, ready to knock someone's teeth out, only to find his little brother stupidly grinning at him. "Stefan!"

"You seemed to be daydreaming there, brother. I was merely trying to help you. Father advised I should remind you that we're attending the celebration this evening and it's crucial you show up."

Damon rolled his eyes, switching gaze to his reflection in the mirror and studying the dark circles beneath his eyes. When was the last time he got some sleep? One...two nights ago? Honestly he had lost track of how many hours he was sleeping. It felt like every night he was up with bad anxiety, stressing over the littlest things. What color suit to wear? How does he address this issue? And that issue? What will become of him in Italy? What happens when his father passes the torch? What if he screwed everything over accidentally? These were the type of questions he pondered in his mind and, for a minute there, he could have swore Stefan just waved a hand in front of his face. "You know I would not dream of missing it. I need to speak with very important people tonight. By not showing up I would bring shame on the business." The words came out dully and mockingly.

"You sound just like our father." Stefan noted, holding back a laugh. "And can you keep that excitement down?"

Damon placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and frowned deeply. "Be very lucky that this business does not go to you unless...say, a meteor strikes me dead. The likeliness of such a thing happening is zero to one."

"What if I throw you overboard?"

"Oh man, would you? It'd be doing me a huge favor."

"Now, now, Damon. I want to become a chef, not CEO of the Salvatore real estate. That's always been destined for you." The younger Salvatore winked, reaching up to pull the hand of his brother from his shoulder. "I'll bake you a cake if it makes you feel better."

"A chocolate one?" he asked skeptically.

Stefan nodded. "A big chocolate one with white frosting. And it will be so delicious that you can't eat it in fear of its deliciousness. And someday, when father's job is yours, you can advertise my gourmet restaurant for me."

"Of course." Damon rolled his eyes, quite offended by his brother's feminine taste in achievements. Why could his brother do something...bigger? Like running his own business. Creating the finest tasting wine in all of Italy. Or Rome. Or ...something. But a restaurant? Restaurant business sucked. Or so he heard, since he actually never was a part of one. Nope. The only business he'd grow to love was his own family's: the Salvatore Real Estate. Finest company in the world when searching for your ultimate dream house. Pricey, too, which is why the Salvatores have been rich for centuries. Like all cliche family businesses, the heir to the CEO throne was the first born child. Normally sons but nowadays it was common to find that some daughters took on the roles as well. That left him, the first born child, to receive the CEO torch. His father would be retiring in less than a year and then it will be his turn to keep the torch still burning. How hard could it be, right? It's not like he watched his father pull his hair out and pace back and forth until five in the morning each night
only to leave work again at six. Sighing, he placed his glass on the nearby table of his room and glanced at his watch: 2:30 PM. "What time did you say the event started?"

"I didn't. We pull from the docks at three. I imagine around six, then?"

"You're going to be there."

"Yes." Stefan nodded weakly and turned, making way out of his brother's extravagant room. Before he exited he turned back towards his brother and added, "There's three and a half hours for you to burn. Don't spend it drinking." His eyes trailed to the champagne glass and then toward his older brother again. "Please."

Whatever, Stefan.

"Hello, madam, can I interest you in this red dress?"

Elena rolled her eyes at Rebekah. For the past hour she had been trying to convince her to go to sort of celebration. It was a stupid party to celebrate the stupid leaving of this wonderful, fabulous city. How could Elena want to celebrate that? She didn't, and she felt like telling Rebekah to shove every dress she pulled out right back up her ass. True, she was being a brat, but what else could she do? Rebekah just did not understand what leaving New York meant. The ship was still attached to the dock and already she felt nauseous. It was 2:50 PM and they would be leaving New York for three months in just ten short minutes.

"Elena, come on! You're being so unfair to me right now."

"How?" the brunette snapped. "Because I'm trying to enjoy a nice, peaceful moment to myself and you keep interrupting me with dresses I don't want to wear? I told you..I don't even want to go to the celebration, Rebekah." Lightly she added, "I'm sorry but why would I want to celebrate leaving my home?"

Rebekah threw the red material onto the bed and folded her arms, eyes narrowing dangerously. "You know what? Maybe you should just get off while you still can. Maybe I don't want you here after all. Not while you're being...being..."

"Being...what, Rebekah? Go ahead. Go on."

"A bitch."

Elena immediately drowned in her own guilt. She was being a bitch. She didn't want to leave New York. At all. But was it fair to Rebekah that she should abandon her? Probably not. After all, it was Rebekah who went through so much trouble to get admission tickets. It was Rebekah who would be reuniting with her family again after so many years. With tears pooling in her eyes, she lifted herself off of the bed and ran to the nearest exit she could find in the hallway. The door led her out onto some sort of terrace - the salty ocean air hitting her nostrils roughly. She leaned over the banister and closed her eyes, refusing to look at the beautiful New York buildings in front of her. It was all too much. She couldn't take leaving something so precious to her. It was like losing everything she had all over again. Except this time it was the only thing she had.

There was a small hand on her back and a whisper, "I'm sorry."

Her brown orbs reopened to find her friend staring at her, ashamed for what had happened between them. Relief washed over Elena at the thought that her friend wasn't purposely picking fights with her. Oh god, this was all her fault. Why couldn't she just be happy for Rebekah? Why did she have to be so selfish sometimes? She was supposed to be Elena Gilbert. Twenty year old Elena Gilbert. Journalist. Selfless. Proud. Courageous. She was anything but. She was cowardly, and selfish, and cruel, and insecure. She was nothing but a horrible nightmare of who she had been last year. "Me too," she whispered hoarsely, letting her own masochistic side take over and have her peek at New York.

"You really don't have to stay." Rebekah said honestly.

"No," Elena decided after a long time. "I do. I'm just so caught up in everything. New York is the spitting image of my parents. When I walk in the park I see the morning runs my mother and I used to have. When I see a hotdog stand I think of Jeremy - little Jeremy at his first job. And my dad...when I see the poor begging for money in the subway I think of my dad who used to throw a quarter at them. I can't even bring myself to look at homeless people anymore. I used to help them and give them money. Now I want nothing with them. How sick is that?" She swallowed thickly. "The truth is...I'm being selfish. I'm being sour and cruel to you when you don't deserve it."

"It seems like...like you're holding onto New York when New York is trying to let go." her friend whispered quietly, giving Elena's hand a gentle squeeze. "This will be good for you, Elena. Stop holding onto memories that only hurt you and create new ones that make you happy."

Elena nodded softly. "You're right." Two small tears fell over their edges and trailed down her cheeks. "I don't have anything for me in New York anymore. But you do. You have a family waiting for you in Dover. And that's where we're going."

Rebekah rested her head on the shoulder of her friend. The two of them made no move when a great whistle blew, roaring loudly throughout every small space on the ship. Shouts and cries were given from those standing below on the docks and from those leaning over the banisters waving goodbye. White napkins were thrown into the air and a grand applause erupted as the S.S. Katherine began to pull from the port. The entire ship was great pandemonium except for two girls that watched as New York City grew into nothing but a speck, a mere fragment of their imaginations. Unknown to the two of them, the S.S. Katherine would prove the most marvelous experience in their entire lives. Had they known it then, they wouldn't be standing with tears in their eyes and an ache in their hearts but instead wishing they could relive it all over again.

Wow! I hope that was as interesting to read as it was for me to write. Please know that this is not a Titanic story. Any similarities between the two are unintentional but otherwise slightly inspired. I hope the jumping around didn't confuse anybody. Review & tell me what you think!

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