It's been 84 years... and I can still smell the fresh paint.The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in.Titanic was called the Ship of Dreams. And it was. It really was...
As the gleaming white superstructure of the unsinkable ship rises mountainously beyond the rail, and above that the buff-colored funnels stand against the sky like the pillars of a great temple. Crewmen move across the deck, dwarfed by the awesome scale of the steamer.
Southanmpton, England, April 10, 1912. A crowd of hundreds blackens the pier next to the famous ship like ants on a jelly sandwich.
A gorgeous burgundy Renault touring car swings is seen hanging from a loading crane. It is lowered towards the hatch on the side of the massive ship
On the pier horsedrawn vehicles, motorcars and lorries move slowly through the dense throng. The atmosphere is one of excitement and general giddiness. People embrace in tearful farewells, or wave and shout bon voyage wishes to friends and relatives on the decks above.
A white renault, leading a silver-gray Daimler- Benz pushes through the crowd leaving a wake in the press of people. Around the handsome cars, people are streaming to board the ship, jostling with hustling seamen and stokers, porters, and barking white star line officials.
The Renault stops and the liveried driver scurries to open the door for a young man dressed in a stunning grey and purple outfit, hair styled to perfection. He is 17 years old and handsome, regal of bearing, with piercing eyes.
That man was me. Kurt Hummel.
I looked about. Seeing people of different classes boarding the monstrous ship in front of us. I looked to the side and saw my very tall stepbrother, Finn Christopher Hudson stepping out of yhr carriage, taking the bags from the trunk. My father proceeded to do the same.
I on the other hand, was still staring straight ahead. I have always been skeptical of ships.
Like, how can a giant piece of wood and molt, carrying over 10,000 people over sea and not have even the slightest fatality. Seems absurd to me.
Boy, I sure hope it's a smooth sailing.
A personal valet opens the door on the other side of the car for Miss. Quinn Fabray. The 16 year old heir to the elder Fabray fortune. "Quinn" is beautiful, arrogant and rich beyond meaning.
But she has a big heart, she just doesn't know it yet.
A young man with the name of Sebastian smyth came out behind her. The Heir of the Smyth Fortune. I've known him since birth. He may seem vicious from the outside, but he is really not bad when you get to know him.
"Wow! The R.M.S Titanic! I heard lots about it, never thought to see it in person." Quinn looked up at the big ship, amazement in her eyes.
Rachel Berry. A 17 year old wife of the eldest step son, Finn Hudson. A pretty, short women with long brown hair, pinned in a lose ponytail flowing down her back.
"I pictured it bigger." She shrugged as if it was nothing spectacle. It's not like it's the biggest and strongest ship in the world at this time.
I for one, wasn't moving an inch. Still staring at the tall stature above me. So tall I can fall back if I try to look at the top of it.
I heard my father grunt at me to get my attention. I looked up and saw him pass me my suit case and Quinn's.
As a man, I must do the heavy lifting.
"Isn't it a sight to see, my boy? The biggest in the world and we get to ride on. First class, and when they ship docks, that's when the fun really begins." My father, also known as Burt Hummel, spoke to me.
What I didn't know till a few weeks prior to this event...
I will be marrying Quinn Fabray when the ship docks in Philadelphia...
Hundreds of people are already invited. Anyone first class counterpart you can think of.
My older brother, Finn has lucked out. He was arranged to marry Rachel Berry, but he was rather fond of thr dashing young lady.
Only if I felt the same for Quinn.
She's a very beautiful young women and any man would be very lucky to take her hand in marriage.
Another man that isn't me.
I have nothing against the women. I bet she's great once you get to know her, but I just don't feel that spark.
I looked over to my father who was carrying his and his wife's bag.
Dad please hear me
I don't want to do this
I don't want to marry Quinn Fabray
I don't want to get on this ship
I don't want to go to Philadelphia
I don't want this rich life
Please dad! I love you but hear my plead!
I want out
It was the ship of dreams to everyone else. To me it was a slave ship, taking me back to America in chains. I felt weighed down by my duties I must fulfill.
"Right this way!" A working gestured for us to walk up the ramp to the ship. I felt Quinn Fabray latch on my arm as we walked. I helped her up with her high heels. Causes some difficulties.
"Kurt, what are you wearing?" I heard my father spoke. I didn't know what he was referring to at first. I looked down at the place of my body he was staring at. It was my very frail fingers.
I had a light coat of dark purple nail polish. Matched my outfit. I had it on for a few days now, and no one has noticed till now.
"It's nail polish." I replied, half-heartedly. Not feeling quite up to being yelled at.
My father pulled my closer and whispered in my ear.
"Kurt, we talked about this! As soon as we get to our room, you are to go remove that at once! Don't you understand?" He asked.
I swallowed thickly. I nodded and felt hi. stuff my hands in my pocket to avoid my fingers being seen.
This is just a fraction of my life.
Being told what to do and how to act. If I'm not the stereotypical "man," then I'm just not good enough.
Though, I was everything a well brought up boy should be. Though Inside, I was screaming...
A screaming blast from the mighty triple steam horns on Titanic's funnels, bellowing their departure warning
Several blocks away from the ship, towering above the terminal buildings like the skyline of a city. The steamer's whistle echoes across Southampton.
Through a window, and back further to into the inside of a smoky pub. It is crowded with dockworkers and ship's crew.
Just inside the window, a poker game is in progress. Four men, in working class clothes, play a very serious hand.
Sam Evans and Mike Chang. Both about the age of 20, exchange a glance as the other two players argue in Swedish. Sam is American, a well-built drifter with his hair a little long for the standards of the times. He is also unshaven, and his clothes are rumpled from sleeping in them. He is an painoist and singer. He is also very self-possessed and sure-footed for 20, having lived on his own since 15.
The two swedes continue their sullen argument, in Swedish.
"Hit me again!" Sam spoke as he takes the card and slips it into the players hand.
Mike is seen licking his lips nervously as he refuses a card.
ECU stack in the middle of the table. Bills and coins from four countries. This has been going on for a while. Sitting on top of the money are two 3rd class tickets for the R.M.S Titanic.
The Titanic's whistle blows again. Final warning.
"The moment of truth, boys! Somebody lifes is about to change." Sam looked up from over his hards layed out in his hands. His blonde hair shifting past his eyebrows.
Mike puts his cards down. So do the Swedes. Sam holds his close.
"Let's see..." Sam mutters as he looked at Mike's cards.
" Mike's got niente. Dave, you've got squat." Sam told the swedes.
"Sven, uh oh... two pair... mmm." He continued to mutter to himself. He turns to his friend.
"Sorry, Mike." He muttered with sad eyes.
Mike looked up at him in an almost confused and angry look written across his face.
"What do you mean? Did you lose our money?! I told you, you shouldn't bet on money when we really--" Mike rambled until Sam quiet him down.
"You don't have to worry about that..." Sam smirks.
He slaps a full house down on the table.
"Cause you're goin' to America! Full house boys!" He cheered as he hugged Mike as tight as he could! Mike chanted. Almost tears of joy running down his face.
The table explodes into shouting in several languages. Jack rakes in the money and the tickets.
Sam turns towards the swedes.
"Sorry, boys. Three of a kind and a pair. I'm high and you're dry and--" He turns to Mike.
"--we're going to..."
"America!!" Sam and Mike chanted at the same time!
One of the Swedish men balls up one huge farmer's fist. We think he's going to clobber Sam, but he swings round and punches his playing partner, who flops backward onto the floor and sits there, looking depressed. He forgets about Sam and Mike, who are dancing around, and goes into a rapid harangue of his stupid cousin.
Sam kisses the tickets, then jumps on Mike's back and rides him around the pub. It's like they won the lottery!
"Goin' home to the land of the free and the home of the real hot-dogs! On the Titanic! We're ridin' in high style now! We're practically goddamned royalty!" Sam shouted as be hugged his bud, tight once again.
"You see, Man! Its our destiny! Like I told you. We will go to America!To be millionaires!" Mike shouted with hope in his eyes.
"Well, if you want to make it, you better go fast!"
Sam and Mike turned their heads to see the pub owner, standing by the clock.
"Because the ship leaves in 5 minutes." He put up five fingers with his hand.
"Crap! Come on, Mike!" Sam yelled as be grabbed his stuff and their money they earned as well as the tickets.
"It's been grand!" Sam bowed to everyone in the pub, with a grin on his face. Mike pulled his along. Can't wait any longer.
They run for the door. Sam and Mike, carrying everything they own in the world in the kit bags on their shoulders, sprint toward the pier. They tear through milling crowds next to the terminal. Shouts go up behind them as they jostle slow-moving gentlemen. They dodge piles of luggage, and weave through groups of people. They burst out onto the pier and Sam comes to a dead stop. Staring at the cast wall of the ship's hull, towering seven stories above the wharf and over an eighth of a mile long. The Titanic is monstrous. Nothing they've ever seen before.
Mike runs back and grabs Sam from his daze, and they sprint toward the third class gateway, at E deck. They reach the bottom of the ramp just as the sixth officer detaches it at the top. It starts to swing down from the gateway doors.
"Wait! We're passengers!" Sam exclaimed, flushed and panting, he waves the tickets.
The officer looked them up and down. Took in the appearance of shaggy hair and unkempt clothes.
"Have you been through the inspection queue?" He asked the gentlemen
"Of course! Anyway, we don't have lice, we're Americans." Sam lied, cheerfully. He glanced at Mike
"Both of us."
The officer looked a bit suspicious, especially looking at the asian man across from him.
"Right, come aboard." He spoke in a testy way.
The officer has quartermaster Rowe reattach the gateway. Sam and Mike come aboard. Moody glances at the tickets, then passes Sam and Mike through to Rowe. Rowe looks at the names on the tickets to enter them in the passenger list.
"Gundersen. And..." The officer reads the name that was the names of yhr swedes who lost these beloved tickets. He reads Mike's ticket
"Gundersen..." He replied half-heartedly.
He hands the tickets back, eyeing Mike's certain looks suspiciously.
Sam grabs Mike's arm before anymore questions are asked of them.
Sam and Mike whoop with victory as they run down the white-painted corridero. Grinning from ear to ear.
"We're the luckiest sons of bitches in the world!" Sam smiles. His dimples showing.
On the very top of the ship, everyone was waving goodbye. On and off the ship.
The mooring lines, as big around as a man's arm, are dropped into the water. A cheer goes up on the pier as seven tugs pull the Titanic away from the quay.
Sam and Mike burst through a door onto the aft well deck. Tracking with them as they run across the deck and up the steel stairs to the poop deck. They get to the rail and Jack starts to yell and wave to the crowd on the dock.
"You know somebody?" Mike asked, confused.
"Of course not. That's not the point." Sam laughed then turned to the crowd.
"Goodbye! Goodbye! I'll miss you!" Sam screamed as he waved goodbye some more.
Grinning, Mike joins in, adding his voice to the swell of voices, feeling the exhilaration of the moment.
"Goodbye! I will never forget you!!" Mike's turn to wave goodbye.
Underneath them was the 1st class territory. We heard the thumping and the screaming of other passengers.
"Ugh! All that screaming is giving me a migraine. I wish they will just stop." My step mother, Carole, spoke.
"They'll stop soon, sweetheart." My father spoke as he layed his suitcase down.
"I don't think it's so bad." I spoke quietly. My father and step mother looked over at me as well as my brother and his wife. They looked at me as if I was an outcast that didn't have the rights to speak freely. Even if it was for the better.
"They are just waving goodbye to the people that weren't as fortunate enough to go on the ship. I think it's sweet. Why don't we join them." I spoke as I got up but Quinn went up to me and unwrapped the scarf from my neck and touched my shoulder.
"Kurt, we don't need to go up there! They are just mystercreants just loligagging about. We don't need to include ourselves in that." Quinn spoke as she wrapped my scarf around her hand and smiled up at me.
"I... I just thought..." I whispered.
"Why don't you start unpacking, dear." Carole spoke as she took my jacket off my shoulders.
I sat back down and watched the people around me, walk around aimlessly, like I didn't exist.
I sighed and sat back on my chair.
Boy, no one would ever think a life like this would leave someone feeling so trapped and empty...
Hey Guys! Thanks for reading the first chapter! I think is missing Hevans fanfics so here you go! I know the first chapter is very similar to the original story but don't worry, it'll be more different as the book goes on! don't forget to review and like! : )