Isaac rubbed his temples, sitting on a long couch in the lounge of their apartment-like rooms on the Titanic. There was a very beautiful and ornate lounge, three bedrooms with queen beds, two bathrooms, and a kitchen. Marian stood not far from Isaac, a half wall dividing the two rooms. She flipped the large pieces of chicken so that the opposite side may be cooked as well. She shook up the pan, causing the chicken to slide around in the vegetable oil.
The half wall was only the only thing dividing Marian form Isaac; there was also a thick, dreary silence that enveloped the air around them like a thick blanket that threatened to suffocate the being trapped within. Even Henry seemed to feel the deafening silence, despite the fact he was usually quite ignorant and clueless, oblivious even to the most obvious of things. Marian's mother sat across from Isaac, occasionally trying to break the barrier of silence between them with a conversation. The replies were always very short and annoyed.
At long last, Marian's best friend, Kristina, stood up and motioned to Marian. "How about we take a break and go drink some tea? Lance!" A man in a tuxedo came walking gracefully in. He gave a slight bow and replied, "Yes, madame?" Kristina blushed lightly and replied, "Could you please finish up dinner for Marian tonight? We are going out for tea." The man gave her a smile and a wink as he gave a courteous bow to the group. "Yes, madame." He walked into the kitchen and shook the pan, sliding the chicken along the vegetable oil once more.
Kristina, with a knowing glance at Lance, practically trotted from the room with Marian towards the dining room. Marian's mother, no longer wishing to endure the silence, stood as well. "I'm off to bed." She brushed off her skirt and then walked off towards her room, shutting the door violently behind her. Henry and Isaac stood the moment the door at shut. "Finally!" Isaac laughed and the two friends left the room, their Italian boots clicking and clacking on the beautiful wooden floors.
As they walked through the halls, Isaac studied the walls. Upon them were beautiful paintings and carvings. Along the ceiling was a glittering chandelier, the sound of glass tapping against one another resounded through the empty hallway. Once they reached the end, to their right they could see a large open lounge; the lights were very dim within, and alot of people were dancing to simple a drum beat, low and slow; Isaac could guess that this was not the type of place Marian or her parents would approve of.
That was precisely the reason they went inside.
Henry grinned and pulled Isaac over to a pool table. "First class don't usually play pool." He smirked and tossed Isaac a stick, taking one for himself. They started a friendly game of pool, but the game soon turned into a gamble. Henry laid down three one hundred dollar bills and smirked. "If anyone thinks they can beat me step right up! If you win, you get three hundred dollars." The men listening to his wager snickered to themselves. "But if I win, you owe me three hundred."
No one stepped up right away, but after a moment's worth of pause, a woman stepped forward. "I can kick your ass, you sorry little first class prep." Her blue eyes glittered madly into Henry's, her brown hair falling in curls onto her bare shoulders. She had on a short red dress that exemplified her curves. The men who had been considering Henry's wager laughed loudly. "Go ahead and try."
The girl smirked and leaned in closer to the man, a hand sliding up his arm to his shoulder. "I won't even have to try." The man snorted. "Some competition, it seems." The girl flipped her hair and turned back to Henry, smacking the man in the face with brown curls. She grinned and said, "Let's just play some pool."
She drew back her stick and aimed for only a second. The ball hit precisely where she had aimed, sending two balls into the holes. She smirked as Henry raised an eyebrow. He drew back his stick and aimed for almost a whole minute, the girl pretending to snore while leaning against her stick. He finally drew back and hit the white ball, it knocked into another, sending it soaring into the hole. He smirked back at the girl, but she did not return the smile.
Isaac watched the girl with sudden interest; she seemed so familiar, as though he knew her. Her piercing blue eyes seemed all too memorable, and her brown curls seemed to jog something in his mind that was just out of his memory's reach. He studied her small nose, her big eyes, her pink lips... It was as though he had met this woman before.
Lost in his thoughts, he had not noticed her habit of picking up random men's drinks and taking long swigs of the whiskey within. By the time she had won the game, she was wasted. "Thank you, thank you my audience! I want to thank my mom, thanks mom, gracias. I want to thank my pet dog, he always barks, you know, never shuts up. There was this one time he sang for my sister, it was hilarious, I can't stop thinking about it..."
Henry grabbed one of her arms, and Isaac grabbed the other. They pulled her backwards as she rambled about her 'singing dog'. Her feet slid on the ground as they dragged her from the party room, unable to stop her wild rambling. "And I'd like to thank myself, I'm so wonderful. I love you Katherine Hunter, thank you so much." Isaac suddenly stopped walking and let go of her arm, causing her to fall to the ground. Henry looked at the drunken woman with no emotion. "Oops," he said sarcastically. Isaac looked down at her. "Katherine?"
She looked up at him and grinned foggily. "Yes sir, can I help you?" He smiled as best he could. "Do you remember me, Isa-" Katherine snorted. "Of course! I remembered you the moment I saw you. I was just waiting for you to remember me!" Isaac grinned. "Really?" She nodded enthusiastically, attempting to stand. Her knees wobbled as she supported herself on the wall. She hiccuped lightly. Taking a step towards him, she replied groggily, "Yes, I remember everything since second grade." She giggled. "Remember Lindsay Walden? The lunch bell means-" Isaac burst into laughter. "Yeah, yeah I remember." Katherine giggled, hiccuping once more.
Henry sighed. "Not that this isn't fun but... What are we going to do with her? We can't exactly bring a drunk girl home... 'Hey Marian, look, Isaac just happened to stop by a junky little bar and pick up this drunk woman in a short little red dress, but nothing happened between them!' ...And we can't send her home..." He sighed. "I guess she'll have to stay in the spare bedroom in my apartment tonight." Katherine hiccuped, not understanding, but Isaac grinned appreciatively.
Emmerson reviewed the letter over and over, his brother Jefferson singing quietly to the music playing on the small radio beside the lounge chair. The violin resounded through the room so clearly, that Emmerson finally threw a pillow at it, causing it to fall to the floor and shatter. Jefferson scowled. "You'll be paying for that." Emmerson waved his hand in the air as though swatting away an annoying fly. His brother sighed. "You've read that letter a hundred times, just set it down." He shook his head, continuing to study the words scrawled messily onto the paper.
Jefferson frowned. "Who is it even from?" "Linda." His frown softened. "Oh. What does it say?" Emmerson cleared his throat. "Dear Ememrson, I am sorry for this sudden arrangement. I had no control over the situation, and I still do not. If it were up to me, and surely you as well, this marriage would never have been an option and we would both be happily living our lives like we were before. Instead you are on your way to New York and I am about to get married to a man I have never met. For this, I apologize.
"It is not that I do not want children, it is that I do not want to give birth to children. As well, I expect you to get a good-paying job in the city of New York so that we can buy ourselves a house. I don't want you to be a miner or a soldier. I want you to be a Psychiatrist for children. I will stay at home with the children we adopt.
"I apologize for the shortness of my letter; I only wanted you to understand the way our lives would have to be from now on. Sincerely, Linda..." Emmerson scowled. "She thinks that because she's an old lady and I've got my whole life ahead of me that she can just plan out my life for me? No. I'm the man in this relationship. She will bear a son for me." Jefferson sighed. "I see how it is. You're right though, she can't plan out your life for you."
Emmerson continued. "I want to be a nurse!" Jefferson snickered. "A man nurse, of course. In the emergency room. I want kids that my wife actually made with me, and I want to be on this ship going to meet the woman of my choice!" Jefferson sighed. "Life doesn't work that way, Emmerson. This marriage is final, and nothing but death can change that." Emmerson looked at Jefferson with an evil eye. "You wouldn't mind 'taking her out' would you?" "Oh my goodness, you're calling a hit on Linda!" The two brothers laughed for a moment.
After the laughter died, Jefferson looked at a small clock sitting upon the table. "Perhaps I should go. Kendall will be wondering whether or not I fell off the boat if I do not go check in with her." Emmerson grinned and nodded, reading the letter once more as Jefferson left.
Perhaps, if he read it just one more time, he would realize that the letter was indeed not sent from the Linda he would be marrying, but instead from a homocidal cannibal Linda. And that the Linda he would be marrying was actually beautiful, young like him, not so tall, and not as bossy.
XxXxX
Lori sat down on her bed, staring up at the boat. The sun was setting slowly over the horizon, a splash of pink, orange, and blue splattering the sky like paint on a canvas. The boat had anchored near the shore of Cherboug, France. She knew that the moment the sun dipped below the horizon, the dorms would be almost completely empty, all the people going to enjoy the night's glory. But secretly, Lori had been planning to slip into her stolen dress and enjoy the First Class' Masquerade Ball that night.
She was almost completely sure that the back staircase she had been using belonged to the worker's of the ship; that would explain the lack of passengers, and the pieces of coal that littered the stairs. That was better for her, because none of her new-found friends from her dorm would see her sneaking around the ship.
She was watching a small confused rat try to figure the way out of the glass jar her dorm-mate had trapped it in. Finally, she no longer needed to be bored; the bunkers had almost completely cleared up. She climbed her back-stairwell and gently pulled the dress from the rafters in the utility closet. She slipped the dress on and smiled to herself as she walked casually into the hallway she had stole the dress from. Being sure to walk further down from the room she had previously stole from, she knocked on a door; miraculously, no one answered. She pulled the knife from the inside of her tall boots and pried the door open. Within, the window's revelation of the moon lit the room enough so she could see the mask laying on the dresser.
Suddenly, from the bathroom within the ornate bunker, she heard movement. Lori quickly snatched the mask and ran from the apartment-like bunker. The door closed slowly behind her, and so she ran back to the staircase. When she had reached the safety of the stairs, she leaned against the wall. She gasped for breath, her heart pounding with the thrill of almost getting caught. The mask was a miracle; it matched her dress perfectly, as though sent from Heaven. With silent feet, she tip toed up the staircase to the Banquet Hall where the Masquerade Ball was being held.
There was a woman that slept in a room four doors down from Lori; she had a single pair of beautiful black and silver boots that she laid beneath her bed every night. Lori knew this, as she had heard the woman whisper to her husband about them. With no respect for privacy, Lori snatched the boots when the woman had left the room.
The outfit was beautiful, Lori grinned as the door creaked open to reveal the Lounge beyond. Lori casually walked into the bathroom to do her hair. She pulled out a headband she had owned for a long time, and put her hair up into a ponytail. With a second band, she created a large, curly bun on the back of her head, curls falling from the clump of hair like a waterfall. It was perfect, in every way. Tonight was her night, the first night of hopefully many more glorious night-time vanities.
She turned on the heel of her boots and strolled from the latrine. With a clack of her heel, she stepped onto the expensive, marble tile. She walked to a pitter-patter of her boots she had stolen. Lori saw doors with dim lighting beyond revealed the Banquet Hall, the Masquerade Ball. She stepped past the doorway, and grinned at the large crowd of buzzing First-Class-Passengers before her. With a single step towards the punch table a large man walked straight into her. She nearly toppled over, but he grabbed her shoulder, catching her fall.
The man looked very guilty. "I am so very sorry, my dear-" "Don't give it a second thought," she said, the feel of his hand slowly sliding down her arm giving her chills. "You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?" He asked, his hand resting on her wrist. "I'm afraid not, sir. I don't remember you at all. No offense of course," she added quickly. He grinned. "None taken. Emmerson," the man stated, holding out his hand for introduction. "Lori," she said, shaking his hand. When the movement had ended, he did not take his hand away. "You have the most stunning eyes," he said, his green eyes looking directly into hers of a matching shade.
"Why thank you," she replied, a blush creeping to her cheeks. "Would you like to take a walk? It's quite loud in here for conversation." He asked quite suddenly. Lori, surprised by the rushed invitation, didn't reply at first. "I'm sorry to be so rash," He said, releasing her wrist at last. Lori grinned, taking a step closer and putting her hand on his arm. "Rash? Darling, that was just friendly!" He grinned, linking arms with her and leading her from the ball room, onto the deck.
"So, Lori," he said with a grin. "What brings you to this ship of dreams?" Lori hesitated. "It's something new. And what person would not LOVE to be one of the first on this unsinkable ship?" Emmerson laughed. "Unsinkable even by God himself." Lori giggled, tightening her grip on his arm. "It's very cold," she stated plainly. He nodded. "Yes, it is." Lori added, "This is why I hate winter. I prefer summer." Emmerson looked at her. "I like winter. There is snow, and in the summer there is merely storms." Lori considered that for a moment. "I guess you are right. Summer does hold many storms, and I do not like storms. But snow is pretty. And you can make snowmen, and sled..." Emmerson frowned. "Lori, you aren't not like many other girls I have met." Lori's heart raced. "How so?" He gave her a grin, stopping their walk and opening a door to their right. "You tell the truth. Into the Box Lounge you go," he said, motioning withing the door.
It was bright within, many beautiful and decorated lounge chairs within. She sat down upon one, her strapless dress lower then necessary. As Emmerson sat down, Lori noticed him look at them. He sat down extremely close, their legs touching as they talked for nearly an hour. By the time the clock struck midnight, they were laying side by side on the couch, laughing and smiling, the sides of their bodies touching. Lori looked at him, grinning from his last remark.
He looked at her, a smile lingering on his lips. "Do you realize we barely spent ten minutes in that ball?" Lori grinned. "I was barely in there for two." Emmerson let a small laugh escape his lips; with his face so close to hers, Lori could smell vanilla. Quite suddenly, he kissed her. His lips, tasting like vanilla as she had expected, pressed fiercely against hers. She rolled over to completely face him, kissing him. He was a rough kisser, pressing his face against hers as they kissed.
She needed him, in that moment. For some odd reason, kissing him just seemed... perfect.
He rolled towards her, on top of her, pressing himself against her. At the ring of the clock several minutes later, he pulled his lips away, her body warm beneathe his. "Lori, I need to go." Her face fell. "Why?" He sighed. "My family will be expecting me any minute." Lori clutched his chest, fury suddenly racing through her. "You're MARRIED?" Emmerson laughed. "No, of course not! I meant my mother, father, and brother!" Lori giggled, not releasing his tuxedo on his chest, but pulling him closer. Her lips pressed against his, warm as fire. "I'll try to meet you at the Banquet Hall tomorrow during lunch; be there." Lori grinned. He leaned closer, his lips nearly touching hers. But instead of kissing, he rolled off of her, and left the room.
Several minutes passed by, and Lori was still laying on the lounge chair, her dress falling in a beautiful poof around her legs and torso. She had stolen the perfect boots, dress, and mask; but could she keep up her secret veil of social status?
She stood, her eyes sparkling as they eyed the mask laying on the table beside the chair. She picked it up, putting it back on her face.
What a perfect night.
Previous to Lori's night of fun, Sarah sat on the couch within her room, her best friend Beth brushing blush upon Sarah's cheeks. "Beautiful," she said, looking at her artwork upon Sarah's face. With a grin, the doll looked into the mirror. "Thank you, Beth," Sarah said, a grin lingered between her cheeks. With a shove, Beth pushed her towards the door. "Quickly, Michael is waiting on you!"
Swiftly, she raced down the stairs, late for the ball. She slowed her run as she entered the double doors. With a grin, Michael greeted her. "Sarah, my darling," he said, touching her jaw with his hand. "I have not seen you for hours." Sarah gave him a grin. "Michael, its been merely two. Surely you can live without me for one hundred and twenty minutes." She took his hands, as he replied, "I can not live without you for even one." She smiled, giving him a tight hug. He pulled away, putting out his hand. "May I have this dance?" Sarah nodded, letting him lead her onto the floor in the middle of the room.
They danced slowly, Sarah looking over his shoulder for the man she had seen earlier that day to no avail. Sensing her detachment, he ended the dance prematurely, giving her an obviously fake smile. "I'll get us drinks." He walked off, his smile disappearing as soon as he turned around. Sarah watched him walk away, picking up the drinks, and...
spilling them onto his tux. The man who handed him the drinks had dropped them, wine splashing up onto his tuxedo. His anger-control issues took over. He threw the cups onto the floor, glass chattering everywhere. "Michael," she called with a frown, walking up. "Michael stop!" Another glass, shattering. "Michael!" She screamed. Another glass, lifted, and thrown to the floor at his feet. "Michael," she began, only to have a glass hit her feet. Her pumps did not protect them as the glass broke skin. She gasped, falling to her knees, more glass cutting her knees up.
Michael, furious, stormed from the ballroom, screaming in French all the way. Sarah clutched her knees, blood spilling from them. She hated blood, she hated blood, she hated blood. Her vision began to go black around the edges. Numbly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?" A man's voice said, the obvious owner to the large hand on her shoulder. She looked up, and her vision snapped back to reality at the face.
It was the man she had seen in the lounge.
Shocked, if that is the right word, Sarah nodded. "I'm fine. It's just a scratch..." The man grinned. "That would explain with you nearly feinted." Sarah frowned. "I did not! I merely looked away because..." For once, Sarah was incapable of an excuse. The man gave her a crooked grin. "Don't worry, lots of ladies don't like blood." Sarah's frown did not leave her face as he ripped a piece of the tablecloth off from the table. The wine-bearer behind it, seeing Sarah was alright, began to pick up the shattered glass pieces.
"I'm Ty," the man, 'Ty', said quietly, wrapping the table-cloth squares around her bleeding knees. She replied, "I'm Sarah. I'd shake your hand, but it's covered in my own blood." Ty grinned. "Don't worry about it." As he switched her other knee, wrapping it in cloth, he switched the conversation as well. "So who was that? The man chucking the wine at your feet, I mean." Sarah thought quick. "My brother." Why she had not told him the truth, she did not know.
After he had wrapped up her knees and feet, Ty helped her stand up. He held her hand for one moment longer then necessary before letting go. "Are you here with you brother on a date, or may I have this dance?" On a crazy whim, Sarah agreed. They danced slow, and then fast, and then slow again, the conversation never growing awkward.
She seemed to click with him easily, as though he always said the right things to make her open up. Before long, the clocks struck midnight, the music's final note lingering in the air, colliding with the ring of the Midnight bells. With a grin and a slight wave, Ty disappeared into the leaving crowd, leaving Sarah with tingling lips at the kiss that floated in the air with the last song.
Author's Note: Sorry for the wait, on all of my stories! This chapter is exactly 4,000 words long.