Chapter Eighteen

June 15th, 1912
New York City, New York

When Jack came down the stairs, Phillip was waiting for him with a big grin on his face. Just beyond the glass door, Jack could see Phillip's car pulled up along the curb at the end of the footpath. It was a bright and sunny day in the city. Not a cloud to be seen. Jack had felt hopeful upon waking up with rays of sunshine in his face. He thought, finally, the tides were changing. When he made it to the bottom of the stairs, Phillip arched his eyebrows.

"Is that what you're wearing?" Jack looked down at himself. He was in his normal clothes. Tan courdory pants, a light blue button up, and suspenders. It was all he owned, save maybe an extra white button up.

"Yeah?" Jack cocked an eyebrow up.

"Jack, you're meeting the Dean!" Phillip shook his head. "Here," Hurriedly, Phillip loosened the black neck tie from his collar and held it out to Jack. "This will match your shirt. I have an extra coat in my car, too."

"Oh come on, do you think they really care about what I'm wearing?" Jack tucked his portfolio under his arm and took the silky tie into his hand. He glanced to it, hearing the faint whines of violins. "It's just about the art, right?" Phillip chuckled as Jack wrangled the tie around his neck.

"Jack, New York University is a highly regarded school. It's known about all over the world. First impressions are everything," Phillip adjusted the tie once Jack managed to put it on. "You look really nice when you wear a tie. You should do it more often." It was Jack's turn to laugh now as the two exited the house, heading down the path to the curb. Phillip opened the back passenger door and pulled out a black coat. "Here, put this on, too." Jack sighed and shrugged into the coat.

"It's way too hot for this," Jack commented, squinting beneath the bright sunlight.

"You look nice. It suits you," Phillip told him. "I think we ought to change your entire wardrobe up."

"Let's not get crazy now," Jack shot him a playful look as Phillip rounded the car to the drivers side. "I've never been a coat and tie kind of guy."

"It's never too late to be anything you want," Phillip said in his normal even manner. He then ducked his head, climbing in behind the wheel. Jack gripped the door handle tightly and took in a deep breath, trying to qualm his nervousness. It felt the entire world was waiting for him just down the road. After a moment, Jack joined Phillip in the car. "Ready to go?" Phillip asked, turning the key. The engine grumbled to life, giving the car a shake of energy. "Do you have everything?"

"Yeah," Jack glanced down to his lap where his portfolio gleamed in the bright afternoon light. Tenderly he set his hand over the cover. As long as you're with me, Rose... I have everything.

...

When Phillip pulled the car up along the curb outside of NYU, Jack couldn't help but cock his head and gawk. The campus was absolutely massive. At least, just the portion Jack could see over the tall red brick wall surrounding the property. He already saw endless days ahead of him circling the campus, scratching his head, and turning his map round and round trying to get it to make sense. His eyes drifted towards where a steady stream of students hustled in and out of the tall iron wrought gate. Above the gate, arched elegantly, it read NEW YORK UNIVERSITY. Jack couldn't believe he was even being considered for such a prestigous school. What did he do to deserve this?

Phillip gazed at him from where he sat behind the wheel. He grinned at the side of Jack's rather mesmerized face. "Ah, you got that same look on you I had when I saw my campus for the first time."

Jack tore his eyes away from the tall structures of the school. "Where'd you go?"

"Harvard."

"Ah, I should have guessed," Jack grinned, sitting back in his seat. "Football?"

"Linebacker."

"Huh," Jack nodded, licking his lips. The two fell into silence. Jack found himself people watching again. He observed each person's form of dress and the type of bag they carried. Most of the boys were wearing coats and slim ties. He supposed maybe Phillip was right to his dismay.

"Jack, I can tell you really want this," Phillip said, turning the car off. He twisted in his seat to face his passenger. "You say you're just some farm boy from No Where Land, but I can tell... you've dreamt about this, Jack. You've always wanted to find your way to New York University."

Jack pursed his lips, casting his eyes to the dashboard. "I mean, we all have pipe dreams, don't we?"

"But not all are really pipe dreams, are they?" Phillip arched his eyebrows. "You're here. And who knows what awaits you on the other side of those walls." Slowly, Jack looked to the sprawling campus over Phillip's shoulders. It was huge. How would he ever make a difference amongst a population of bright young kids? How would he find a place to fit in and belong? "Are you ready?" His eyes snapped back to Phillip and he blinked rapidly.

"Yes, I think so," Jack nodded, taking in a deep breath.

"Relax. Just be yourself."

Jack looked to him fleetingly before throwing his car door open and getting out. With his face turned away from the doctor, he looked rather incredulous. Be himself? What an awful suggestion, Jack thought. His true self was all taped together meticulously. And as an artist, you never show your worst work. Jack quickly recomposed his face as he came around the car to join Phillip on the foot path. Together, the two men began towards the iron wrought gates. Jack felt the blood in his veins accelerate. The wind blew his tie across his coat and anxiously he reached out to flatten it. He cocked his head back as they walked beneath the gate. It was like Jack was entering a whole new realm.

The sidewalk became very wide. He looked beneath his feet to see faint engravings of names along the bricks. Despite the numerous tall buildings surrounding the campus, there were wide stretches of wide open grass, manicured with tall shady trees and hedges along the walking path. There were benches and statues. Several students laid out across the grass. Some were having an early lunch. Others were reading and chatting over their books. A couple sat together, tenderly holding hands, on a bench Jack and Phillip passed. The energy of the campus had enraptured Jack. Everything seemed so alive and vibrant. It was a refreshing change in environment, like he was returning to his travels in Europe, mesmerized and curious by everything around him.

"It's a big campus," Phillip said, digging his hands into his pockets as they journeyed furthered down the path. "But worry not about being lost, Jack. There's only one building here that will be the most important to you during your studies." The path began to curve and they rounded a large oak tree. Coming into view was a tall statue painted bronze. It gleamed in the afternoon light. It was of a man in a long trench coat. His arm was extended and in his hand was a pen. Behind it was a large two story red brick building. It had a long white porch adorned in rocking chairs and wicker benches. Two tall white pillars ran the height of the building. The black shutters were securely pulled back to show off the numerous and marvelous wide picture windows. "This is the Arts Building. Where all the talented students such as yourself go to refine yourself. It's also where Mr. Harrison Brown's office can be found."

Jack was still as he took in every detail of the building that contained his future. This is where he'd flock each day, tirelessly working away to make himself worthy of something. He didn't know what quite yet. But the idea of being completely devoted to art relieved him. Jack had found his portal away from his current life. Phillip gingerly gripped his arm, startling him from his thoughts.

"Are you alright?"

Jack licked his lips and raked his hair back from his face. "Yeah. Let's go."

Phillip lead the way up the stairs, pushing the black door open. They entered into a foyer with tall slanted ceilings. Paintings covered the walls. Busts were meticulously placed all about. Directly in front of them was a grand staircase that reached a platform, breaking two separate ways to the balconies above. To the left and right were large sitting rooms. The walls were packed with bookshelves bursting at the seams with books on artists, history, and painting methods. The chair were arranged in a messy fashion, signifying the students congregated however they liked during their breaks without regards to the room around them.

"Ah, it's so quiet," Phillip chuckled, glancing each way. "School is out and I'm sure many of the students returned home for the summer. Usually, it's quite lively around here."

"It's a nice place," Jack said, looking to the paintings on the wall.

"Harrison's office is just up here," Phillip told him, heading for the stairs. Jack lingered, looking at a painting from a student that had taken great inspiration from Roman times. It was of a slender woman, draped in simple sheets. She was sprawled out across a slate slab that was cracked. Ivy vines had slithered around the woman, constraining her to the rock. Her body was contorted in a way to reflect she was trying to break free. She had long vibrant red hair that dangled from the ruined slab, grazing the dirty ground. Jack swallowed roughly as he stared at it. "Jack?"

He arched his eyebrows, turning to the waiting doctor. "Oh, yeah. I'm comin'." Hurriedly, Jack went up the stairs, glancing over his shoulder once more to the painting before it disappeared from sight. Upstairs, they passed several rooms that were dedicated to singular crafts. Pottery. Glass work. Sculpting. At the other end of the hallway from the stairs were three wall length windows overlooking the campus before it. They took a right after that, finding the Dean's office immediately on the left.

"We're right on time. He should be expecting us," Phillip grinned, looking to Harrison's nameplate on the door. "You're going to do great, Jack. Your future is waiting just on the otherside of this wall."

Jack nodded. "No pressure, right?" He joked, trying to ease his nerves.

"Absolutely none," Phillip laughed, patting him on the arm. He opened the door. The room had bright red carpet that looked very new. The walls were painted an off-white. School flags, events, and banners adorned the walls. They entered a reception area where a young woman greeted them.

"Hello, welcome to the Dean's office. Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes, we do," Phillip nodded. "This is Jack Dawson. He's here for an admission's counsel."

"Ah, yes, of course," She grinned, glancing to the agenda laid out in front of her. "Mr. Brown has been expecting you two. Please, go on." She gestured towards to the double oak doors behind her desk. Phillip thanked her and again lead the way to the doors. He didn't even give Jack a chance to mentally brace himself before he grandly pushed both doors open.

Sitting directly in front of Jack was a man he never thought he'd cross paths with. Harrison Brown. He had short neatly groomed chestnut brown hair. He wore round gold spectacles on the bridge of his nose. He had on a dark brown tweed coat and dark green button up. He looked up from his work and grinned, coming to his feet.

"Phillip! Good to see you, my friend," He reached over his desk, shaking Phillip's hand with great vigor. "You and I need to have lunch sometime. I miss our chats." Harrison adjusted the spectacles on his face, turning his dark eyes towards Jack now. "And you must be the artist I realized I had to have. Mr. Jack Dawson, what a pleasure. I am Harrison Brown."

Quickly, Jack kicked into gear. "Mr. Brown, the pleasure's all mine." Firmly, they exchanged a hand shake.

"Please, sit down. Let's chat," Harrison seated himself in his tall black leather chair. Phillip and Jack both sank down in front of the desk. Harrison took a moment to shuffle his papers around before he folded his hands together. "I've had the honor to see some of your work, Jack. And I must say, it's quite marvelous. Though you only work in black and white, it's like your able to convey a whole spectrum of colors by the emotions you capture on paper. It's exciting. I must say, I'm grandly impressed by your portfolio. All that's really left to do is interview you as a perspective member of our Arts Building. You will be very close with your peers here. Why, you will all live together in the Arts Dormitory, so it's wise to make friends during your tenure. Would you say you're a people's person, Jack?"

Jack gripped his portfolio tightly in his lap. It was as if he was trying to draw the energy of Rose from all the moments he had captured her in. He pursed his lips and nodded. "Yeah, I would say I am. I like meeting people. I actually just came back from a three year travel in Europe. Mainly hitch hiked and did odd jobs to get around. You gotta talk to a lot of people if you're looking to get from point A to point B for just a couple euros."

Harrison seemed charmed by this response and quickly jotted a note down. "What made you want to go to Europe?"

Jack shrugged and smile politely. "I've always described myself as a tumbleweed drifting in the wind. I lost my folks awhile back, so I've just kind of been on my own wingin' it. I took a fish boat job in San Francisco back in 1909 that landed me in the port of Bejing and from there, I just went wherever I thought sounded interesting. I wish I could have shown you my work from what I observed there. But unfortunately, I lost the portfolio."

"I would have loved to see it," Harrison sat back in his chair, tucking his hand beneath his chin. "I'm sure it was wonderful. But what I've seen in your new portfolio holds just as much weight for me, Jack. Now I'm very curious about the subject of your drawings. Phillip here tells me all the drawings took place aboard the Titanic. Who is this mystery debutaunte?"

Jack's entire body constricted in his seat. His breathing shallowed. It took every fiber of his being to remain composed. "That's just it..." Jack said, rather weakly. "She was a mystery."

"A mystery, hm?" Harrison arched his eyebrows. "You capture her essence so eloquently. It seems like you knew her well. I guess that shows your true talent, Jack. You see people. And that's it." Phillip glanced to Jack, but the young man knew better than to return the look. "Now, are you strictly set on being just a charcoal artist? I could really see a calling in painting for someone such as yourself."

"Take his word for it," Phillip grinned. "He was an award winning painter himself for twenty-five years."

"Oh, Phillip," Harrison waved his hand modestly. "This is not about my merits. It's about Jack's. I could see you working in acrylic paints. Your meticulous detail, your shading; you could convey it really well at the end of a paint brush, Jack."

Jack shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. "Yeah, I'm not opposed to other mediums. But, uh, I've never worked in paints. I don't come from a family that could ever really afford them."

"Not to worry," Harrison shook his head. "Just a few instructional classes and you'll be well on your way."

He glanced down to the portfolio that he had a death grip on. He looked between Phillip and Harrison. "Well, uh, before any decisions are made... I had two more drawings I did that I wanted to be used for consideration." Slowly, he raised his portfolio from his lap.

Harrison grinned. Jack thumbed through the pages, coming to the first one he had done in anticipation of the meeting. He had done something different this time. Jack hadn't drawn Rose. Though, the very image of the red headed goddess had been eternally engraved into his mind, there was another unified image that came fleetingly across his thoughts. It was of Cal. He was gripping the decadent railing of the grand staircase, his legs submerged in chilling Atlantic waters. Around him, the Titanic was in shambles. Tables and chairs floated through the waves that consumed a once lavish and sought after social spot. Cal's teeth were clenched, his other arm extended with his pistol locked and loaded. Slowly, he turned the book in his hand, presenting it to Harrison and Phillip.

The two men were still for a few moments while they absorbed the picture they looked at. A man, who looked like he was king of his empire, surrounded in chaos, emitting it himself. The two wondered what he could possibly be aiming his gun at. They were lost on what could be on everyone's minds admist descending into the depths of the sea. Harrison took the portfolio into his hands, his eyes never leaving the picture. He soaked in the attention to detail surrounding Cal. He was seeing the Titanic in a state nobody else had seen it in. Destroyed. Ruined. Not at all anything like the tabloids had portrayed it.

"You... you saw this happen on the Titanic?" Harrison asked, finally looking up from the journal. Jack only nodded, remaining quiet. Again, Phillip looked to Jack. Harrison turned the page to the next the drawing.

It was a side profile of Rose. She was looking upwards, towards the light that spilled into the rather enclosed space she found herself in. There were small crinkles in her skin in the corner of her eyes as she grinned. Her hand was held up in front of her face, giving the middle finger to someone out of the scene. She seemed so absolutely delighted. So devious. Harrison smirked now.

"The mystery debutaunte has many facets," He chuckled, looking up at Jack. "These are wonderful, Jack. A great addition to your already sparkling application." Harrison closed the portfolio, sliding it across his desk. He then rose from his seat, buttoning his coat together. "Jack, it is with great esteem that I welcome you to New York University's College of Arts. You'll make a find pupil." He extended his hand out to the stunned young man. Jack came to his feet, nervously adjusting his tie around his neck. It was like slow motion as he reached his hand out, meeting Harrison's firmly. They shook on it and Jack's life as he knew it had changed.

...

The car doors slammed as Jack and Phillip found themselves ready to leave from their exhilerating and successful trip to New York University. Jack found himself still reeling as the car grumbled to life. Phillip paused from shifting it into gear, glancing towards his passenger. Jack was so lost in his thoughts. He couldn't believe he was a student at New York University. Never had he had such a deserving title. It made Jack sound like he had some semblance of a life put together. Phillip paused, his hand resting on the stick. He pursed his lips.

"That drawing you did... of that man with the gun," Phillip said. Jack's eyes snapped towards him. "Who was that? And why did he have a gun, Jack?"

Jack ran his tongue along his front teeth, staring intently at Phillip. "He was just some asshole. That's it. Some disillusioned man that thought the world revolved around him. Someone so immune to human emotions that he could easily bargain with himself to pull a gun... if it meant he could have what he wanted."

Phillip furrowed his brow. "What did he want, Jack?"

Jack shook his head, directing his eyes out the windshield. "It doesn't matter. He didn't get it."

Phillip licked his lips, sitting back in his seat and also staring ahead. "I know you have your reasons for not talking about Rose... but as your therapist, I'd like to know why you didn't tell Harrison that you knew the girl in the picture. It's obvious you do. You draw her in such personal ways."

Jack almost scoffed. "And what does it matter to the Dean whether he knows her name or not?"

"Speaking from a doctor's point of view, it's healthy to talk about it. Even in settings you don't see as important. Every little bit of her you can allow to flow from your mind would be good for you, Jack. She's all you think about."

"Well," Slowly, Jack turned his head towards Phillip. "Maybe I just wanna keep her all for myself."