Fun Fact #25: On the Way to Stardom

Before Titanic, Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet weren't so well known. DiCaprio starred in the TV show Growing Pains; the movies This Boy's Life, The Basketball Diaries, and What's Eating Gilbert Grape? Winslet was in Heavenly Creatures, Jude, and Sense and Sensibility, which earned her first Oscar nomination. In 1996, they both starred in a Shakespearean movie: DiCaprio as Romeo in Rome and Juliet with Claire Danes and Winslet as Ophelia in Hamlet with Kenneth Branagh. After the success of Titanic, their characters Jack and Rose became a legendary film couple, and the actors were launched into stardom. Winslet became the youngest actress to receive four Academy Award nominations before the age of thirty; she finally won the Oscar for Best Actress as Hanna in The Reader. DiCaprio went on to star in many popular films, such as The Aviator, Catch Me If You Can, The Departed, and Inception. He currently has three Oscar nominations, but no wins.

Chapter 24

Home at Last

Margaret's fortune was the only one that wasn't lost, so she was of course willing to buy a small wardrobe for each member of the group for their travels. Rose kept saying that she had an idea where the will may be, tucked away in one of her father's many books, but Ruth rudely commented that that was silly and the attorneys would've checked there two years ago. Jack came back with the reply that there were too many books to count, and why would it be in there? They didn't know the man. This silenced Ruth, who was certain that the mystery was solved ages ago and they just decided now to tell them, but she had no proof that this was the answer.

The cluster of friends with the pinch-faced Ruth followed pursuit on the closest shopping mall, where Rose took Jack's hand and led him straight away to the nearest boutique. Ruth scoffed at Rose's choices, thinking they were too gregarious or unstylish, but her daughter had always had certain flair. She kept playing around with Jack, cladding him with wide-brimmed hats or elegant scarves, and flashing him dramatic poses as she tried on each dress.

Ruth blinked, an unreadable look on her face, as she stared at the young couple laughing like they were the only two in the world. It wasn't until then that she realized that these were the only instances where her daughter was ever truly happy, with this Dawson boy. She then cleared her throat and looked away, following Maggie to the more sophisticated part of the store.

Once they were done, they stopped at the hotel to make sure they had everything they needed before heading off to the train station to catch the next stop to Philadelphia and purchase the four tickets that would take them there. Rose entwined her fingers in Jack's as she told him that the ride would only take a couple of hours.

And Ruth watched again as her daughter partook in that small intimate action, their eyes not even focusing on each other, but the train schedule. Yet, she could still see the attraction and the sparks. She still wished that her daughter could've chosen a more suitable husband, but what would it matter anymore? By tonight they would've found the second half of the will, and she might as well be a rich woman again. Rose could marry whomever she pleased.

The four boarded the train and sat in a rather comfortable car, ready for the short trip.

At first, the silence was awkward, but then Maggie invited Ruth on a walk around the train, and Rose and Jack were left alone.

"So we never found out who stole our letters," Rose said unexpectedly, shocking Jack.

"I guess that's a good way to start a conversation," he choked, and Rose was able to laugh even though she felt like it wasn't anything to make fun of.

She decided to change the topic to something not so mind bobbling. "I got you something," Rose said teasingly, bending forward and pulling out a wrapped present out of her suitcase. She smiled widely at Jack and handed it to him. "I know you couldn't live without this."

Jack took the smooth gift from Rose's hands and didn't even mumble thanks before ripping the paper. Rose snickered at Jack's immature behavior. "You're welcome!" she said sarcastically as he took the portfolio out of its wrapping.

"Rose," he said, suddenly serious. "You didn't have to do this."

Rose blushed and looked away. "Oh, it was nothing, really. I could get you a picture book and you'd still say that."

He clucked his tongue. "No, Rose, really. This is great." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. "Thank you."

She laid her head on his chest and closed her eyes. "And it comes with pencils too?" she heard Jack exclaim, causing her to smirk before falling asleep to the smooth rumbling sound of the lulling train.

…

The field was lush and green and full of…memories?

Rose watched confusingly as two figures, who she soon noticed were her younger self and Jack, walked towards each other and started to talk. She tried to grab on to the drawings that flew past her, but they went right through her. Was she a ghost reliving her own life?

The scene shifted and there they were at the river, little Rose screaming as Jack jumped in to heroically save her ribbon, but in the end she threw her arms around him instead.

Now she was in her old backyard, her eleven-year-old hand outstretched to a small rabbit. Jack laughed as it came closer, Rose's eyes going wide.

Then there was Rose when she was twelve and her period started, and she felt like she had to relive the pain of Jack's dismissal all over again.

When Rose was fourteen, she joined her parents on a trip to France. Bored out of her mind (and angry that they weren't going to seriously travel Paris), she received a note from someone who was no other than Jack. How he had the money, she had no clue.

The landscape swirled and changed again, but this time the room was cold and gloomy. It was after her father's death, and younger Rose was staring depressingly at the wall curled up on her bed. There was a knock at the door, and Rose had to look away – she remembered how she felt at that exact moment as the sobbing continued and Jack's soothing voice interfered.

Jack's birthday party. She remembered that. He turned eighteen, and it was one of the first times that she realized how protective he was of her. How he had started to fall in love with her, and she with him.

When Rose turned sixteen, Jack had taken her to an art museum where they gazed up at Monet's masterpiece. She watched as her hand held firmly on to Jack's, their bond inseparable. Later that night, she had curled up on the beach with him, the strange feelings for him she had been combatting rising in her throat. But then she had been caught, and she never got to say what she wanted to.

Finally, the acts ended, and Rose found herself in total darkness. She took a step forward and looked around, but nothing was there. "Hello?" she said, her voice echoing off of the nothingness. "Is anyone here?"

Slowly, she began to feel a tilt at her feet. Screams and creaks softly got louder. Her eyesight started to catch dark shadows until finally she could see what she was standing on.

She was at the stern of a ship. And not just any ship, but the Titanic. Looking down, she saw she was wearing a flowing white dress. But worst of all, Jack wasn't there, and she had no idea what was going on.

She put her hands on the cool railing and looked down at the rising propellers. People dotted the ocean that would soon take their life. Yet, she didn't feel scared or guilty or horrified. Instead, she felt calm. Like she was at peace with those who died.

But she couldn't stop the scream that escaped her lips when Tommy appeared beside her, climbed over the rail, and jumped. She leaned far over to see where he fell, shrieking his name. Then Fabrizio appeared, and she tried to stop him by grabbing on to his arm and begging him not to, but he managed to pull away without a single glance and fall to his death.

Rose flung her head around to see if anyone else she knew was going to do the same thing. However, what she noticed was that it looked as though Tommy and Fabrizio were running away from someone.

When all she saw was the massive crowd of people trying to save themselves, she turned back around and worriedly looked down at where she thought she saw her friends hit the water.

Of course it was when she looked away that someone else appeared. "Mr. Andrews!" Rose hissed sternly, taking ahold of his arm tightly. "Don't. Jump."

But he didn't listen, and she watched again as he plunged to his doom, his face holding a certain expression that was simply unreadable.

That's when she heard the gunshots. Her body cold, she turned around to face what had been causing her friends' deaths. What she saw made her mouth open wide and let out a silent scream.

Jack was running in her direction, fear etched on his face. Behind him was a very bothered Cal, with the gun he used to pierce Jack's skin in his hand as he aimed for his head.

"NO!" Rose cried, but it was too late. The bullet was shot, and Jack disappeared like nothing had happened, like she hadn't seen him get murdered.

Now Cal was heading for her, cocking the gun with fresh bullets. But Rose knew she had to react. Climbing on the rail, she took one last look behind her before jumping off, her dress billowing in the breeze.

When she hit the water, it was nothing like before. It was warm and inviting, almost like she was in a pool, not a vulnerable ocean. She didn't even attempt swimming back to the surface, for the waves pulled her down anyway.

As she sank deeper and deeper, a flash of white light appeared before her eyes. This time she was on the ship again, but it was heading to its destination so far unharmed.

She squinted in the bright, unnatural sunlight. There was absolutely no one on the decks, not even the sound of people chattering came from the Grand Staircase. She started to walk along the barren promenade, watching the ocean bob peacefully.

Then she saw them. As she approached the stern, she smiled.

…

Rose opened her eyes later and found herself still trapped in Jack's embrace. The surreal dream still stuck with her, and she no longer felt haunted by what the sinking had done to her life. She yawned and tried to pull away, but Jack hissed at her to stay put. That's when she saw his hand grazing smoothly over the paper, drawing what looked to be a sleeping head of curls.

"Mr. Dawson, were you drawing me while I was sleeping?" she huffed jokingly as he added the finishing touches.

"Yeah, it took some work since you kept rolling around, but I managed to escape your wrath and move to the other seat. I guess I woke you up when I moved back here next to you."

Oh. So she hadn't been forever locked in Jack's arms. She was about to make another sly comeback when she realized that Maggie and her mother still weren't here. "Where are Maggie and Mother?"

Jack shrugged. "They came in earlier and said they were going to eat in the dining car. I guess they're getting caught up on life," he explained. "Oh, and by the way: We're arriving in half an hour."

Excitement boiled in Rose's stomach. She couldn't wait to go back home, curl up on her chair in her father's study, and read his books. She couldn't wait to go to the shed in the backyard and carve wooden objects, an eccentric passion of hers. And lastly, she couldn't wait to get this will matter aside and let her frantic mother rest in peace.

…

The train came to a tranquil halt, and Rose's eyes widened at the scenery. It was just like how she remembered Philadelphia: Beautiful architecture, large fields, and hilly backdrops.

"You look like a kid in a candy store," Jack joked as he got the luggage together. Maggie and Ruth were rapidly talking in the corner, but what they said came out in mumbles and Jack didn't bother trying to listen in on their conversation.

"I just haven't been here in so long!" Rose exclaimed enthusiastically, a glowing expression her face. "And now it's like Cal and the Titanic never happened…" She trailed off as thoughts of the sinking reiterated in her jumbled mind.

Jack only stared at her for a few seconds, blinking as her eager air withered. Sighing, he walked over to where she was sitting and sat next to her, putting his arms around her without saying a word. But it didn't matter; she already knew what he was trying to say. That he'd been through it, too. That he still had the scar to prove it. That he was there with her when she fell.

Rose wished for nothing but the sinking to just go away, but the nightmares were always there. And so were the memories. She couldn't just forget Thomas Andrews, Tommy Ryan, and Fabrizio de Rossi. If she did, it was like letting Satan sin her. Like the lives God gave them was for nothing.

As the group disembarked, there started a frustrated ruckus as Maggie suggested they call a cab while Ruth claimed that in the letter the lawyer said that he would send the butler to get them. But Maggie said that she read the message and he wrote no such thing, and when Ruth was about to snap back with a comment to protect her pride, Rose intervened.

"Why don't we just see if there's a cab waiting for us, and if there's not, then we call one." As Ruth and Maggie grunted in agreement, Rose sighed through her nose and picked up her luggage. The sinking seemed to affect them too, even though they never touched the water. Their patience was wavering and irritability was on the rise. Yet, Rose was the one with the sore back, and after a few minutes of carrying her slightly heavy bag, it began to ache.

She groaned and put the valise down, rubbing her back as her face cringed in discomfort. She couldn't wait to go home now and take some painkillers. Jack came up behind her and took her bag under his arm, leaving his other hand free so he could put it on her waist.

Ruth's face inflamed when they reached the end of the station and their butler, Charles, wasn't there. I guess Mr. Phillips never sent my telegram, Rose scoffed internally. But then she immediately felt guilty, because she heard that both Marconi officers were rescued from collapsible B, but Jack Phillips had died from exposure in the boat. Some described that the other men didn't even notice, so he had passed on alone.

Rose shuddered whenever she thought of the Titanic. So many lives were lost, and all those reporters still flocked the dock like it was some cheery sports game. Entertainment for the Devil was more like it.

Maggie smiled triumphantly and called for a taxi, and Rose climbed in with the help of Jack. She just had to smile, even though her brain was pounding in her skull, when he gave her his hand and assisted her in. He was more of a gentleman than Cal was, and at least he knew how to have fun – unlike certain deceased fiancés.

The taxi rolled away and the excitement eased its way back in. She was home at last.