Hey, this is Mandy again. I know, I have so much going on right now. But I just HAD to write a Titanic story! It's one of my most favorite movies ever!

Anyway, this story is kind of based off Jack and Rose's romance, but not entirely, so bear with me please. Please leave reviews, and be nice, it's my first Titanic fic. My characters are made-up, so I hope you like them.

Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Titanic nor any of its characters. I own the characters that I made up, which, in this case, are most of the ones that the story is centered on.

Serena's POV

It was a chilly morning when we arrived at the harbor where the Titanic waited. They called it the "Ship of Dreams". Yeah, maybe to some. But for others, like myself, it was a big fat boat to nowhere. I know it sounds a lot like an opinionated statement, but if you'd been there, you'd know.

My mother, Adelaide Winnestar Ladeneb, stood beside me, holding my hand as if I were five years old again. She looked as prim as ever in her cream-colored ruffle dress with that stern expression on her face. She'd always been a coveted woman, attracting gentlemen of the finest class. Her long hair curled in locks down past her shoulders, and she wore a gaudy hat on top of that. Her eyes, rimmed by dark mascara, were dark brown and emotionless, and you couldn't look into them without getting the feeling that she was staring right through you. And with all that that lace and ribbon tied around her body, I don't know how she could stand it.

In fact, I don't know how I could stand it either. My corset was killing me beneath the sparkling ruby gown I was wearing. I'd turned fourteen only a few days ago, and the Titanic voyage was my birthday present, courtesy of my mother and the help of my grandfather. Not only was it a present, but we were also taking the trip to visit my father in Delaware. He'd traveled to America because his job had been relocated. Don't ask me what he worked as, I haven't seen him in so long that I've forgotten what his job actually was. To be honest, I really wasn't looking forward to this trip. To me, it meant greeting my mother's prissy friends (who were complete strangers to me), eating nothing but ready-made high-quality food, and sitting around reading books that I could barely understand.

Nothing I haven't dealt with before but only have to go through again.

"Happy birthday, darling," my mother said, giving my hand a soft squeeze.

"Thank you…" I said in a feigned voice of happiness or gratitude.

She smiled at me. I could tell it was fake. She never smiled at me unless I'd just accomplished something huge. She called over her shoulder, "Fareheim, please take our bags to our room." Then she looked to me again, wearing that almost devilish grin. "Come now, let's go get settled in. It's a long way to America."

I nodded.

As the two of us prepared to board the ship, I got a deep nauseating feeling in my stomach. No, I wasn't seasick. But it was the feeling that things were going to happen. Things both good and bad.

Wes's POV

I clutched the ticket in my left hand and gripped my suitcase in my right. My father had given the ticket to me only a day or so ago, telling me to go to America and make something of my life. No, he didn't hate me. But he didn't want me to end up like him—spending all his money on a few things and then leaving himself with nothing. That's how he'd got the ticket.

I swallowed down a sob. I'd miss him, and my six younger brothers. However, I couldn't let my dad down.

I'm your typical fourteen year old boy, almost fifteen. I'm tall for my age, my hair's short, blondish, and messy, and everyone remembers me by my eyes, which are blue as the ocean, my mom would always tell me. And even though I'm… well, poor… I'm fun to be around, and can make almost anyone laugh.

I gotta say, getting on that ship was like stepping into a house made of gold. Third class or not, I was still going on a voyage on the finest ship in the whole damn world. My steps were careful, as if I were walking through a field of mines. I honestly didn't know what to expect while I walked through one of the hallways to find my room. I especially didn't think I would find romance, if any at all. There were a couple good-looking girls that were my age, but they were all first-class ladies, and they'd just looked at me with narrowed glares. I didn't have a chance at that…

When I finally found my room, I walked in and discovered something really surprising…

…I had a bunkmate…

"Hey," said the boy. He reached out and shook my hand, "Name's Shane. Who are you?"

"Wesley Altaire," I replied. "My brothers call me Wes. Well… they did, at least…"

"Oh. Leaving family, huh?" he asked with empathy.

"Yup."

"Yeah, I know how you feel. I'm leaving my sister and my girlfriend. But they gonna feel good to hear that I'm gonna be rich when we get to America."

I smiled at him. I don't know why, but my smile was naturally crooked. It didn't seem to please anyone much. Especially not the rich people, who all had full smiles that only appeared when they were talking to people of the equal social status. Basically, I was ignored by them no matter what.

I unpacked what little stuff I had, then climbed up onto the top bunk and laid back, folding my hands behind my head. This is gonna be the worst few weeks of my life… I thought. But I didn't consider the fact that they could be the best few weeks of my life.

Or both…