Titanic

They called her the ship of dreams... it was. It really was.

April 15, 1912

The Second Sinking

"Antonio! Are you alright?" Lovino opened the door of his friend's room. The hallways are flooded ankle-deep. The temperature of the water must've been less than fifteen degrees. Lovino however, paid these details no mind as he forced his way. He found the Antonio crouched to the floor, trying his best to retrive his satchel and starched shirts. Antonio noticed Lovino and stood up, his face traced with tired and heavy lines.

"You alright?" Lovino inquired and offered to lift Antonio's things.

"I don't know" Antonio appreciated the gesture and allowed the younger man to carry his satchel. "I woke up because of some noise earlier and this is what I see." A white sheet of creased paper lying-face down on the water caught his attention. "Dios mio." Antonio reached it and dried his hands on his trousers. It was Gilbert's portrait of his parents. "There goes Gilbert's sketch."

"Speaking of Gilbert," Lovino looked around, "...where is he?"

Antonio refolded the drawing and tucked it in his pocket. "I guess he isn't back yet."

"I hope he's safe."

"Lovino!" Emma barged in, her voice breathless from trudging the halls. She and her brother already packed their things. She asked Lovino to check Antonio. Worried, she herself followed. "Did you find Antonio?"

"I'm here!" Antonio raised both of his arms. Seeing Emma gave Antonio an immense feeling of relief. He's glad she's safe and sound. It must be love, he thought as he engulfed her in his arms, finding comfort in the crocus and lemon of her hair.

The same goes for Emma and she was unable to stop herself from embracing Antonio tighter. "I'm glad you're safe!" She smiled and pressed her fingers on the nape where Antonio's untamed curls wildly wounded with her.

Lovino smiled at the scene before he gently broke it. "Let's all go now. I have a feeling we need to be at higher ground at best."

"Excuse me!" Melisande tried calling the attention of a passing ship officer as she tightened her hold on her shawl. She bumped with passengers left and right. Of different classes but of the same cursed plight albeit unknown by most. "Excuse me sir!"

Melisande was with Kiku hours ago and they parted with a kiss. However, after taking a thirty-minute nap, she was roused from sleep due to the clamor she kept hearing outside her room. She opened her passenger door and a mob of passenger greeted her on sight. This surprised Melisande. What's going on?

"Excuse me!"

Arthur Kirkland turned around, responding to the call. Now that there is no need to operate the boilers, he was tasked by his captain to help direct the passengers to safer grounds.

"Yes miss?"

"What's happening?" Melisande inquired as she paused for a while to don her glasses. "Why are the hallways filled with passengers? I don't believe we docked yet."

"Quite the contrary miss," Arthur replied as he motioned for the both of them to not go against the current of people. The confused lady complied and as they walked, her query is answered. "The engines broke down and the captain has implemented emergency procedures."

"Can't it be fixed?"

"Will take a long time miss." A lie. Arthur very well know that all effort of saving the engines are futile. The ship's naval architect himself declared Titanic will flounder. Still, he has to paste a calm and composed countenance and assure the passengers. "The boats are to be readied to accommodate all passengers."

Arthur paused for a while to take a good look on Melisande. He saw a beautiful woman in a frilled nightdress, a shawl on her shoulders. She's smaller than the other lady passengers he encountered from first class. Words from a memory tinkered in front of his mind's eye:

"She is about my height and from first class."

"Are you..." he paused, hesitating, "... Miss Lefevre by chance?"

"Yes," Surprise flashed in Melisande's eyes she recognized her family name. "Actually I am."

"Have her ride on the safety boats immediately, you hear me?"

Remembering the private order, Arthur immediately took the chance handed to him. Without leave, he took Melisande's arm gently but firm and half-dragged, half-walked with her behind him. Without offering any explanation, he shouted to be given room and they reached the Boat Deck faster than the other passengers. Melisande was still recovering from shock when Arthur had her take a seat on a boat deposited on the side of the ship.

"Women and children first," Arthur reminded the anxious passengers crowding the Boat Deck. "Men will be next. Please wait as you are." Kirkland tapped a fellow officer. "Howard, make sure the boats are filled."

Howard gave a nod. Arthur turned to the speechless Miss Lefevre.

"Miss Lefevre?"

"Who..." Melisande gulped, not knowing what to say at all. "Who told you to save me?"

Arthur gave a sad smile. "I believe you'll broke down in tears if I'll answer your question."

"You play Paganini's La Campanella with light fingers."

Roderich Edelstein, amateur violinist who only held a selected number of concerts looked up to see the admiring gaze of Titanic's captain. He gave a smile and Roderich bowed at the compliment, accepting the pleasantry which he seldom hear. Sometimes, people listen to his music because it is what their station demands them to listen to, as what the nobles frequently do.

"You are Mr. Edelstein?"

"Yes, I am." Roderich lightly inhaled air. He was practicing in his room when the captain himself, Ludwig, knocked on his door to request some classical music. Roderich is surprised at first, not considering that he and his band captured a few admiring hearts."What else can I play for you, Captain?"

A list of compositions passed over the musician's head. "You chose an Italian composer. Since you're German, perhaps Beethoven or Mozart though they're Austrian will interest you?"

Ludwig gave a laugh. "I believe they're German, Mr. Edelstein."

"Austrian."

The German prodded no further but asked, "Do you know the music that comforts a soul?"

It is Roderich's turn to stare at the man. He sensed a level of despondency that reaches the depths of the psyche. A gloom that penetrated Ludwig's heart, highly likely concerning the plight of the vessel.

"It is hope."

Ludwig's blue met Roderich's lavender. "What?"

"The composition will be aptly called 'hope'."

Ludwig gave a small smile. "Is that so?"

"Well then," Ludwig stood up and patted Roderich's shoulder. "Would you mind playing hope for us Mr. Edelstein?"

No other answer is needed. "Not at all Captain."

Author's Notes: Dear readers, please pray for me and my family.

While writing this, we just received news that the creek near our village have overflowed, resulting to the unwarranted flooding of our streets. I'm currently trapped with my family inside our home and we're dreading the rise of the water after each hour. Please hope for our safety.

In parallel to the current plight of our third class passengers, the water in our place is already thigh-deep.

I wrote of the situations of our beloved side characters.

Enjoy reading.