April 14, 1912

Later; After Sunset

Dear Diary,

This will perhaps be a very long entry, though I want to write quickly, so it may end up being rather sloppy. There is so much I have to tell you! This turned out to be quite a day! Ok, it all started after the Devine Service. I went for a tour of the ship with Mother and Cal, given by Mr. Andrews and Captain Smith. It started at the bridge (which is where everything is controlled from). They were showing us the steering wheels. I pretended to listen while Mother asked boring questions, such as, "So why are there two steering wheels?" Then a steward or something ran to the Captain with a slip of paper.

"Another ice warning," said the steward. I must have looked concerned, for Captain Smith told me not to worry, and that it was quite normal for this time of year.

Then we made our way along the deck and I listened to Mr. Andrews telling me all about Titanic. He said, "Titanic is the largest ship in all history. She's 11 stories tall. She currently has more than 2,200 passengers and crew on board, though she can hold more than 3,000!" I admit, I was rather impressed that a mere ship could hold 3,000 souls. Why ships are called 'she' still has yet to be adequately explained to me, though.

As we walked past a series of lifeboats, I asked Mr. Andrews, "Forgive me, but with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned earlier, it seems that there are not enough for everyone aboard."

"About half actually. Rose, you miss nothing, do you?" He seemed impressed. He noticed my expression and said, "I originally had plans for more boats, but it was thought, by some, that the deck would look too cluttered. Don't worry. She's all the lifeboat you need." Then Cal made a comment about how even a few lifeboats (20, actually) were a waste of deck space for an unsinkable ship. I straightened up and followed my group aft, when someone came out from behind a boat and grabbed my arm, pulling me into an empty room (the gym, actually). As he did so, I realized it was Jack. This was an odd predicament, seeing as how I had promised never to make contact with him again.

"Jack, this is impossible," I said, "I can't see you." I tried to leave but he held me there gently against the window.

"Rose, listen to me," he said. "You're no picnic. You're a spoiled little brat even." I tried again to leave but he grabbed my arm and forced me to listen, "But under that, you're the most amazingly, astounding, wonderful girl…woman that I've ever know." I could tell he was having trouble saying all this and I tried to interrupt. "No, just let me try and get this out," he said. "I'm not an idiot. I know how the world works. I've got 10 bucks in my pocket and I have nothing to offer you. But I'm too involved now. You jump, I jump, remember."

At that moment I wanted nothing more than to throw myself into his arms. But I did nothing of the sort. "Well, I'm fine." I told him, "I'll be fine."

"Really?" he said. "I don't think so. They've got you trapped! And you're gonna die if you don't break free! Maybe not right away, because you're strong." He touched his hand to my cheek. "But sooner or later, that fire that I love about you, that fire is gonna burn out."

"It's not up to you to save me, Jack," I said.

"You're right. Only you can do that." I moved my hand onto his and held it there. I was seriously considering kissing him, but I did not. I just couldn't.

"Leave me alone," I said. "I'm going back." And with that I turned and walked out the door, though I would have done anything in the world not to. You see, dear diary, I knew that I had to listen to what Mother told me earlier. I had to stay with Cal. I made a promise. He gave me a ring and I said yes. And I felt that even though I wanted to tell Jack that he was the one I wanted to be with, I couldn't.

I ran and reluctantly caught up with my group, who hadn't even noticed I was gone. We finished our tour, and Cal went off with Mr. Ismay to discuss business and politics, and I went off with Mother for tea with the Countess of Rothes and Lucile Duff Gordon. I paid no attention to their petty mind numbing conversation. I believe Mother was complaining about me to the other ladies. But I turned my head and noticed a little girl sitting at a table next to her mother.

The girl couldn't have been more than 4 years old, but she looked almost like a miniature adult. She was wearing white gloves, and a white dress and a large hat, and was daintily picking up a cookie. The mother corrected her on her posture, and the way she held the teacup. The little girl was trying so hard to please, her expression serious. It was a glimpse of me at that age, and I felt the relentless conditioning... the pain to becoming an Edwardian geisha. And I thought of the daughter I may have some day. In order to be a proper girl, she would have to be trained in such a way. But I realized then that I don't want to do that. That I don't want to be my Mother. Calmly and deliberately, I turned my teacup over, spilling tea all over my dress.

"Oh, look what I've done," I said. And I excused myself, allowing Mother and her friends thinking I was going to go change. But I didn't. Following my gut instincts, I went down to the 3rd class general room and asked Fabrizio (that's a friend of Jack's. I met him at the party last night) a question. I got my answer and I walked hastily out of the room and made my way back up to the deck.

It was late in the day and the sun was close to setting. I was now near the front of the ship, making my way nearer and nearer to it. I saw a figure standing motionless at the edge of the bow, looking over the rail. I took a deep breath. "Hello, Jack," I said. Upon hearing my voice, he turned around, looking puzzled. "I changed my mind," I said. He smiled. There it was; that smile that I love so much. I walked closer. "They said you might be up here—"

"Shh," he hushed, putting a finger to his lips. He came close to me and said, "Give me your hand." I placed mine in his and he held it tight. He pulled me to within inches of him, and I prepared myself for him to kiss me. But he didn't. Instead, he said, "Now close your eyes." I looked at him, a bit bemused. "Go on," he said. Slowly, I squeezed them shut. He led me forward. "Step up," he told me. "Hold on to the rail," he said, and I squeezed my. "Keep your eyes closed, don't peek."

"I'm not." I said

"Now step up onto the rail," he said. As if by instinct, my feet stepped onto the railing. I felt unsteady as I balanced on there, but then Jack stepped up as well and held me by the waist. "Hold on. Keep your eyes closed," he said. "Do you trust me?"

"I trust you," I said, and I meant it with all my heart.

He let go of me, then he took my two hands and raised them until I was standing with my arms outstretched on each side. I was going along with him. When he let go of them and lowered his hands back down to my waist, my arms stayed up… like wings. "Alright," he said. "Open your eyes."

I opened them and gasped. There was nothing in her field of vision but ocean. It was almost like there was no ship under us at all, just the two of us soaring. The Atlantic unrolled toward mw, a hammered copper shield under a dusk sky. There was only the wind, and the hiss of the water 50 feel below. "I'm flying!" I cried, "Jack!" I'm sure I was smiling an enormous smile. He moved his arms up and we held hands, flying together.

He put his cheek near my ear and sang "our" song softly, "Come Josephine in my flying machine, and it's up she goes, up she goes."

I leaned forward, arching my back and closed my eyes feeling myself floating weightless far above the sea. I smiled dreamily as I leaned back, gently pressing my back against his chest. He pushed forward slightly against me. Slowly he raised his hands, arms outstretched, and they meet mine... fingertips gently touching. Then our fingers intertwined. Moving slowly, our fingers caress through and around each other like the bodies of two—dare I say it—lovers. Jack tipped his face forward into my blowing hair.

I turned my head until my lips were near his. I lowered my arms, turning further, until I found his mouth with hers. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, and we kissed like this with my head turned and tilted back, surrendering to him, to the emotion, to the inevitable. We kissed slowly and tremulously, and then with building passion. I realized as this magical moment happened that I…I love him. And together, as the sun fell beneath the horizon, Jack and I soared together into a night without fear.

Oh, dear diary, it has been the best day of my life! I am in love! In love! I can't believe it. I have to tell him soon. I know he feels the same way. And I know that it's right. I have never felt this way before. Like my stomach is in knots, and I want to be sick. It's the best! I want too be with him every moment. To tell him things. Things I have never told anyone. And I want to know everything about him. But I will. Soon. We have our whole lives. This is not just silly teenage love. I'm a mature 17. He's a street smart 20. We are beyond silly romances (though this is my first; my first kiss as well!). Jack…when I'm with him…he makes me want to be different…better. I have spent my whole life being told by only two people that I'm really special; my brother and my grandmother. And now Jack is in my life and he makes me feel more beautiful, smarter, and more special than I ever have before. And I never want that feeling to die. But I haven't even gotten to the most interesting part of the day! Jack is waiting for me, so I'm going to have to write this fast. I want to be with him. Okay, here it goes.

The kiss went on an on, and then somehow, it stopped. Probably when we realized it was dark. He jumped down from the rail and held me by the middle and helped me get down, both of us laughing. We looked at each other with love in our eyes. I took him by the hand and pulled him toward my suit. I had an idea. "What are we doing?" he asked.

"You'll see," I said. As we moved onward, we stopped every now and then to just look at each other. But we made up for lost time by walking very quickly.

As we entered a first class hallway, he realized where I was taking him, and said, "Are you sure this is…you know…alright?"

"It's quite proper, I assure you," I said. I opened the door to my family's suite and entered with Jack. It surprised me how comfortable I felt with him. Like I could really just be myself. "This is the sitting room," I told him. "Will this light do?"

"What?"

"Don't artists need good light?"

"Zat is true," he said in a bad French accent, "But I am not used to working in such 'orreeble conditions." I laughed. He looked around and spotted one of the paintings I had bought. "Monet!" he said. He rushed over and knelt beside the picture, examining it.

"You know his work?" I asked.

"Of course!" he told me, clearly in awe. He pointed to the lily pads in the water smothered in light. "Look at his use of color here. Isn't he great?"

"I know," I said, happy that we had common interest, "It's extraordinary." He gave the painting a long look and then got up and faced me. "Hold on," I said, and I ran to the wardrobe where Cal keeps his big, unattractive green safe. "Cal insists on carting this hideous thing everywhere," I entered the combination: 7:92:67. (But shh, diary. Don't tell anyone the combination!)

"Should we be expecting him any time soon?" Asked Jack as I took a box out of the vault and closed the door.

"Not as long as the cigars and brandy hold out," I said. I took the necklace out of it's case and showed it to him.

"This is nice," he commented, inspecting it. "Is it a sapphire?"

"A diamond," I corrected. "A very rare diamond." Jack examined it closer an shook his head at such wealth. "Jack," I continued, "I want you to draw me like one of your French girls, wearing this."

"Alright," Jack said, his eyes still on the jewel.

I looked up at him and smiled, knowing what I was about to say was entirely unlike me. "Only this," I said. He gave me a look of pure shock. I blushed. We went through the whole "Are you sure?" and "Yes, yes, I'm sure" bit, and then, a few minutes later, I was in my room getting undressed, and he was in the sitting room getting set up.

My stomach wasn't cooperating with me as I removed my dress and struggled with my corset. (I hate corsets. I swear they were made by Satan!) I examined myself in the mirror for a few moments. I am hardly skinny and emaciated. I am a bit plump. But my body is still slender, even with a few curves. My chest is rather large for someone my age. It always as been and it always annoyed me. I just condemned me to wearing tighter corsets. After a moment, I put on my silk kimono and let down my hair. Then I attached the dreadfully heavy heart shaped diamond.

Finally it could be put off no longer. I emerged from my room into the parlor where Jack had been sharpening his charcoal. He stopped and looked up at me, clearly a bit nervous. I played it cool. "The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a porcelain doll," I said, and tossed a dime into his hands. "As a paying customer," I continued, "I expect to get what I want." And with that, I took a deep breath in, let it out, and parted the kimono. It fell to the floor and I stood in front of Jack, completely naked. Me! Ha!

Oh, and Jack looked completely stricken. Almost comical! He snapped back to reality and stopped staring. "Over on the bed…Uh…couch," he said, indicating the sofa he had moved to the center of the room, right in front of his own chair. He told me to lie down, and then said to put one hand by my eye, the other on a pillow. It was sort of a cat-like pose. The whole time, I still couldn't believe I was doing this. And yet, I could. I felt so comfortable around him, it wasn't a big deal. I would have felt so utterly exposed Cal sat in front of me instead of Jack. Anyway, he let out a deep breath and started to draw. He was concentrating very hard.

"So serious," I said. He laughed. I'm not exactly sure how much time passed, but I didn't mind. I was lost in thought. Thoughts about Jack, and how I wanted to stay with him. But how would I tell him. And how would I tell Mother and Cal? Then I noticed Jack again, and said, "I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste." He smiled and turned an even darker shade of red. "I can't imagine Mr. Monet blushing."

Jack glanced up at me with that 'are you serious?' expression written upon his face. "He does landscapes," he said, sweating. I stifled a laugh. "Relax your face," he said.

"Sorry." I watched his eyes as they moved from onto the paper to me, then back again. My heart was pounding the whole time. It was the most erotic moment of my life so far, and I can't imagine I will ever want anyone more.

But when Jack finally said, "There. Done," and walked over to the sofa with my robe, he did not kiss me or touch me or even stare. He just gave it to me and smiled. And for some reason, I liked that more. The fact that he is willing not to touch, makes me only want to be touched more. I blush now as I write this. And even though he had just stared at me completely bare for perhaps an hour, he turned around as I put on the kimono. I then approached him in his chair and admired the portrait. It was beautiful! He captured my soul in it. It is so realistic and pragmatic, and yet so distant and dream-like. One has to see it to understand it.

I leaned over him in his chair and met his stare. "Thank you," I whispered. He leaned in toward me and kissed me. I kissed him back with all the infatuation and passion in me. We laughed as we did so. I have never kissed a boy before today. No one has ever seen me naked. At least not since I was three or something. I have never been in love and I have never been happy. But now I am. I have this strange desire to go into the dining room and scream "I LOVE JACK DAWSON!" Jack. Jack. Jack Dawson. Jack Dawson. Jack Dawson. Rose Dawson. Jack and Rose Dawson. I would be content with writing such things all day. And I could almost cry, I am so happy.

I suppose Jack and I were planning on staying in my suit a while longer, so I had Jack put his portfolio (containing my portrait) in the safe, as I wrote a little note addressed to Cal to go along with it. This is what it said: Darling, Now you can keep us both locked in your safe. Cal will see it and know it is over. He will try to win me back, maybe force me back, but he will not. I, Rose Dewitt Bukater, vow that I shall not go back to Cal. Ever.

I am in my room now. Jack waits just outside. I have been in here for a while. I just put on a rather plain dress. It is layers so soft lavender silk with a pink sash around the waist and a white bodice. And even though it is absent of heavy embroidery and beads, I have never felt more beautiful. I am leaving my hair down. It looks perfect. Not a curl out of place. And yet I sense that Jack would not give a horse's ass if I shaved my head and wore trousers! He loves me. I know it. And I return his love in full measure. I have written so much! I want to see Jack! So I shall write more later. Perhaps tomorrow. Goodbye, and wish me luck!

Your friend,

Rose

P.S. I don't know what is going to happen with Jack tonight. Be prepared for a wild next entry. No day but today! Oh yeah, I'm not even wearing a corset! I'm such a rebel…

Ok, so deep breath, and I'm off!

A/N: Hey guys. I don't know how this chapter was. I know that she probably wouldn't have had time to write so much, but you all know what artistic liberty is, so I changed so that she would. All I know is that I got really emotional while writing this chapter, and even though it's not my best, I poured my and Rose's heart and soul into it. So PLEASE tell me what you think! I love reviews and really need them as well, so I know how to write the next chapter. PLEASE REVIEW! Thank you!