Okay. I couldn't really fit in the full summary in the little space they give us, so here's the whole thing:

Meet Laura Hart: First Class passenger on the RMS Titanic. A rising singer with a heavenly, angelic voice and beauty to match, she should have it all. But she doesn't. She needs one thing, love. The other First Class passengers think she is strange, along with her music. She claims it's all part of the next big music generation about to hit the world, hard. Only a few really treat her kindly. And her interest in that Third Class singer is awfully peculiar...

Meet Sammy Bloom: Third Class passenger. A poor boy with a dream to be a star. He plays his music and hopes for the best. When he boards Titanic with his dad, he wonders if this could be his big break. Maybe there's someone out there who will see his talent, see through the shabby clothing and the worn guitar...

Somehow, their paths cross, but it seems like they already know each other. Only question is: How?

This might be a bit silly. I was listening to music and thought up this idea. I will use modern day songs that could be song in 1912 and eventually accepted, I'm assuming, over a long period of time. Or just immediately. Also, I'll use classic songs that everybody loves. I could use song suggestions and lyrics, because I might not know them. Also, Ismay will be, once again, the evil in this story. I'm throwing in Rose, Ruth, Cal, Jack and Lovejoy and all them just to please you. Plus it's fun to make Cal and Ruth be evil. :)

Laura is 17 or so, and Sammy's 18.

Also, this is rated T just in case there's severe language. Probably not, though. I might bring it down to K+ though.

Disclaimer: I do not own Titanic. Not the ship, nor the movie. I do own Laura and Sammy, though. Also, all dialogue from the movie belongs fully to James Cameron.

Hope you like it!


Laura's POV

The automobile rumbled beneath me and I sighed, fidgeting uncomfortably. These things were so darn annoying, always jerking and vibrating in the most irritating way.

I sat in the back seat, tapping out a rhythm on my navy blue book. My corset was making it extremely hard to sit comfortably, and my lungs felt as if they were being crushed. How am I supposed to sing in this if I can't even breathe properly?

I was on my way to the RMS Titanic, the new "unsinkable" ship taking the world by storm. I had heard of it's luxurious First Class accommodations and thought, What the hell. It'll make my trip back to the States fun.

As we rumbled on through the wide cobblestone streets, I grew acutely aware of the loud cheering from up ahead. The houses were too high for me to see anything, but I knew what it was already.

Suddenly, we turned a corner, and there she was.

My, she was much more grand than I had thought she'd be. "Good God," I exclaimed softly to myself. "And I thought the papers were exaggerating."

"No, Miss Hart," my chaffeur teased me gently, as he stepped out of the front seat and walked around to open my door. "The papers were being utterly honest about the size and grandeur of Titanic. And weren't they absolutely right?"

Next to us, another automobile pulled up. A couple seconds later, a young woman of about my age opened the side door and stepped out. She was dressed in a slim purple and white outfit, with an enormous feathered hat to match. I fiddled with a stray ebony curl that had come loose from my tight bun, cursing myself for not wearing a hat when every other First Class woman was. I watched the woman look over the Titanic with cool appraisal, her piercing eyes flitting from left to right, up to down.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about. It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauritania," She sniffed. I held back a scoff as a man dressed in a crisp suit and a bowler hat stepped out behind her.

"You can be blase about some things Rose, but not about Titanic. It's over a hundred feet longer than Mauritania, and far more luxurious," He retorted lightly, while a smirk rested on his lips. "It has squash courts, a Parisian Cafe...even Turkish Baths."

He turned and held out his hand for a middle-aged woman just now stepping out of the car. "You daughter is far too hard to impress, Ruth." He paused and indicated a puddle with his other hand, saying, "Mind your step."

Ruth, the mother of Rose, gazed at the Titanic. "So this is the ship they say is unsinkable."

The man smiled. "It is unsinkable," He insisted. "God himself could not sink this ship." He sounded proud, and I couldn't help thinking, What for? You did nothing for this ship!

A porter scurried over, pushing his way through the crowd. "Sir, you'll have to check your baggage through the main terminal, round that way-"

The man pressed gave the man a fiver, who's eyes widened. "I put my faith in you, good sir."

The porter nodded, as the man continued, pointing at the man who looked very much like an undertaker, "See my man."

As the undertaker-man told the porter which trunks were to go where, my chauffeur busied himself with talking to another porter. "Oh, Miss Hart," He called. "You go on. I'll help this gentleman with the luggage."

I looked back at him, and smiled. "Alright, Henry."

I began to walk forward, clutching the hem of my light blue dress so that it didn't drag across the ground. It had a white lace overcoat that tucked in around my waist. As I approached the First Class gangway, I was aware of Ruth, Rose, and the man walking along behind me. A maid had joined them, carrying large bags, most likely full of things too delicate for the baggage handlers.

There was the sound of running feet and I looked over my shoulder to see two young boys rush past the man. Seconds later the apparent father of the two unruly children stumbled into him.

"Steady!" He regained his balance.

"Sorry squire," The father apologized and then rushed after his two sons.

"Steerage swine," The man sneered. "Apparently missed his annual bath."

"Honestly, Cal, if you weren't forever booking everything at the last instant, we could have gone through the terminal instead of running along the dock like some squalid immigrant family," Ruth sighed.

"All part of my charm, Ruth," Cal laughed. Suddenly I felt his eyes burning into my back. Good God, why's he staring at me? "The only thing that could possibly make us late now is this slow-moving-"

I turned around before he could finish his insult. Obviously it was about me. "Pardon me?" I asked in a very cold, polite tone.

Cal cleared his throat awkwardly and Ruth looked at anything but me. Only Rose seemed to be calm, with a soft amused smile on her face.

"I was just wondering if you could move faster," Cal explained, putting on a fake smile.

"Yes, but as it seems, you were being rather insulting," I retorted. "And you could always go around."

Suddenly, Rose's vibrant green eyes flickered with recognition. "You're Laura Hart," She gasped before Cal or Ruth could reply.

"Who's Laura Hart?" Ruth asked, looking at her daughter.

"She's a singer, new to the business," Rose explained, looking at me. "You're voice is incredible!"

"Why, thank you!" I smiled, pleased by the change of events.

"You're music is so different from the rest of music that I hear," The young woman continued, "It's so amazing, and it makes me feel..." Rose trailed off though, with a nervous glance at her mother and Cal.

I thanked her again and shot a sly look at Cal, who looked flustered. "Well, I do hope we see each other again on the voyage, Miss..." I stopped, not knowing her full name.

"Rose. Rose Dewitt Butaker." That's a mouthful!

"Miss Dewitt Butaker," I finished, and turned away.

As I walked off to the gangway, I heard Cal call out after me, "And I'm Caledon Hockley, Miss Hart!"

And I don't care.

I hurried up the gangway and stepped onto the ship. An officer held out his hand for me to step over the slight step of the bottom of the door.

"Thank you, sir."

"Oh, the name is Lightoller. Second Officer Lightoller, ma'am."

"I'll be sure to remember it," I promised with a smile, before taking out my ticket from my small handbag and looking it over, stepping out of the way.

"Cabin A-38-" I read aloud, but was cut off by a loud voice.

"Miss Hart! Ah, there you are!" I looked and saw Bruce J. Ismay, Chairman of the White Star Line, heading towards me. He was the one who'd persuaded me fully to take this ship for my voyage back to America.

"Hello, Mr. Ismay," I greeted him with a smile.

He nodded at me in return. "Miss Hart, the orchestra and some passengers were wondering, with you being here and such, that you could possibly perform at lunch and dinner for the voyage?"

I nodded, excitement buzzing inside of me. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Ismay."

"Oh, wonderful! They'll be so pleased!" And with that, he turned and rushed off again.

After that, I set off in search of my cabin. When I finally found it, about 10 minutes later, I realized that with all these pick First Class passengers before, half of which haven't heard my music before, I was going to have a hard time getting an encore.

A very hard time.


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