L
April 10th, 1912
I examine the ship with a critical eye, and judge it to be about 880 feet in length, quite a bit longer than any other ship I had seen or been on, but angering Aiber was one of my specialties, and he despised my indifference to his showing off.
"I don't see what all the fuss is about." I comment quietly, "It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauretania." I say nonchalantly although I can tell by looking it is approximately ninety feet longer.
"You can be blasé about some things, L, but not about Titanic!" Aiber shouts incredulously, "it's well over a hundred feet longer than the Mauretania! And much more luxurious…" I smirk at his incorrect estimate as he turns to help my mother from her car, saying "Your son is far too difficult to impress, Eve." She smiles at him and shoots me a look when his attention is drawn elsewhere. I read it like a grade school book. It says don't you dare mess this up for us. I look away from her back to the ship and begin to ponder my fate as I have so many times these past days…
Mother and I begin our walk towards the ship after Aiber joins us once again, "So this is the ship they say is unsinkable." Mother comments as we begin boarding, "It is unsinkable!" Aiber says with conviction, "God himself could not sink this ship!" He speaks with pride, almost that of a host providing a special experience. Two yelling steerage boys run past and one shoves Aiber in his pursuit of the other, the blonde man gives an annoyed glance and shouts "Steady!" at the boy. "I'm sorry, sir." the cockney father says as he pushes on after the shouting boys.
"Steerage swine." I hear Aiber comment, "Apparently missed his annual bath." I look away and try to ignore his unkind comments. I wish I could be like those boys, free to do as I want and not have to worry about what society demands of me.
"Honestly, Aiber," I pull myself from my fantasy as I hear my mother speak, "if you weren't forever booking everything at the last minute, we could have gone thru the terminal instead of running along the dock like some squalid immigrant family." I glare at her distastefully and turn away once again, planning on separating myself from them, until I hear my future business partner speak.
"All part of my charm, Eve." He says cockily, "At any rate," he continues, "it was your darling sons beauty rituals which made us late." He explains, an ever-present air of arrogance surrounding him.
"You told me to change." I defend quietly, still sounding as disinterested as I always did.
"I couldn't let you wear black on sailing day, dear," he says, giving me an incredulous look, "its bad luck." He says, as if it is a commonly known fact. I scowl at the mention of him 'letting' me do anything and think of the bruises on my wrists from his 'persuasion'.
"I felt like black." I say, effectively ending the conversation with my irritated tone. He doesn't want to anger me before boarding, and I know his reasons an am disgusted with them. I do not wish to give myself to such a horrible man.
As we make our way thru the loading doors I get a crawling feeling that I'm boarding a slave ship that is taking me back to America in chains. I know that I must give this man anything he wishes; Mother has told me so, if only to salvage what is left of our once proud name.
As I ponder this fate of mine I allow no emotions to slip thru my perfectly constructed mask of indifference. On the outside, I am everything a proper businessman should be, but on the inside… I'm screaming.
Light
I may not be able to quite understand what the Swedes' at our table may have said, but I can tell it's bad. I catch the word 'bijetter' which translates to 'ticket' so I assume they are upset about the possibility of losing their tickets to the U.S on the largest and most luxurious ship to ever grace the earth in a game of poker at a bar in England against a couple of Asian guys, but tough luck for them, because I most definitely plan on winning.
I had been to the U.S before, but needed something other than rainy, oppressive England. I had planned to go to France again, but… oh, Matsuda is talking to me. "Raito… What are-a you doing?" he asks. I give him a look to show him I don't understand. "You bet all our money…" he explains in Japanese. "It's ok. When you've got nothing, you've got nothing to lose." Is all I say in return.
"So," I continue, speaking to the other two as well now, showing Matsuda that they understand some English, "This is the moment of truth, boys. Somebody's life's about to change. Matsuda?" I ask, "Nothing." He states, looking at me with venomous eyes, "Olaf?" I ask the other man, he places his cards down to show he has nothing, "Sven?" I question the last man at the table, and he places down his cards with a smirk. He has something. I look at his hand then look to Matsuda with pleading eyes.
"Two pair. I'm sorry, Matsu…" He jumps out of his seat in rage and shouts, "'Sorry'?" in English, and then switches to his native Japanese, "Mother fucker! You bet all our money!—" I cut him off, also switching languages "I'm sorry, Matsuda, you're not gonna be able to see your mother for a long time…" he looks at me as if I've grown another head, "'Cause we're going to America! Full house boys!" I shout in English and slam my hand on the table for all of them to see. "Oh, god!" Matsuda yells, also switching back, "I can't berieve it, we go to America!" I nod and grab the tickets off the table to kiss them "I'm getting outta here!" I yell, but get interrupted by the barman, "No, mate," He says and jabs his thumb at the clock hanging on the wall, "Titanic go to America. In five minutes.
Matsuda and I scramble to gather all the money from the table and take off running towards the great ship. "We're ridin' in high style now!" I shout to Matsuda as he scrambles behind me, "We're like a couple of regular swells! Practically goddamned royalty, ragazzo mio!" I yell to him, dodging people and luggage and carts on our mad dash to the boarding ramp.
"WAIT!" I shout to a man detaching the ramp, running up to him, "we're passengers!" I say quickly, handing him our tickets. He looks over me, my cheap clothes covered in paint and coal, and asks, "Have you been thru the inspection queue?"
"Of course!" I lie, "Anyway, we don't have any lice. We're Americans, both of us." I say, indicating Matsuda behind me. "Right," he says skeptically, but accepting because of my perfectly American accent, "come aboard."
We jump over the gap as the officer eyes Matsuda's particularly Asian looks suspiciously, "Come on, Sven." I say to make the lie more believable as we make our way to steerage.
(3rd person limited)
Light
Light and Matsuda burst through a door onto the aft wall deck and run across the stairs to the poop deck. They get to the rail and Light joins the crowd in waving and shouting to the people gathered at the dock. "You know somebody?" Matsuda asks, "Of course not, that's not the point!" Light says to him before shouting once more, "Goodbye! I'll miss you!" Matsuda joins in and waves, shouting in heavily accented English, "Goodbye! I wir-a neva fo-get-a yuu!"
The crowd of cheering well-wishers becomes smaller and smaller as the Titanic gains speed, the impossibly tiny figures wave from the docks till they can no longer be seen.
Light and Matsuda walk down a narrow corridor with doors lining both sides, chaos surrounds them as people argue over luggage and rooms in several different languages or wander in confusion in the labyrinth of halls, consulting signs and phrase books for translations. They search the numbers on the doors, looking for their berth. When they find it, they go inside, Matsu quickly claiming top bunk as Light introduces himself to the other two men bunking with them. "Hi, I'm Light Yagami." He says, offering his hand in a western handshake gesture, and moves to the next man in the room, "Light Yagami." He repeats, and shakes hands again. He moves to put his pack on his bed and play-punches Matsu. "Var s Sven?" he hears one of the Swedes ask quietly as he walks out the door.
(1st person)
L
I eyed the painting I held in front of me, a Monet of water lilies, pondering where to put it in the already ornately decorated sitting room. I stared a bit longer before placing it on a lavish arm chair and returning to the boxes, looking for my personal favorite. "Do you want them all out, Liam?" Wedy, my nurse-maid from birth asks me, "Yes. We need a little bit of colour in this room." I answer quietly, still rummaging thru the many pieces of art. "Are you looking for one in particular?" she asks, used to my detachment by now. "Yes, it had a lot of faces on it…" I trailed off, finding the one I was looking for. "Here it is." I announce, examining the familiar painting lovingly. "Oh god, not those finger paintings again…" I hear Aiber say from behind me, and opt to ignore him, "they were certainly a waste of money." He continues, and I finally respond, "The difference between Aiber's taste in art and mine is that I have some." I say, still looking at my Picasso. "They're interesting. Like being in a dream." I explain to anyone listening. "There's truth, but no logic." I say as I place the painting reverently upon the mantle. "What's the artists' name?" Wedy asks me. "Hmm… Something Picasso." I say, forgetting the full name. "'Something Picasso'?" Aiber says, leaning on the door leading to the covered deck, "He won't amount to a thing. Trust me." He walks away, muttering to his manservant, Mikami, "At least they were cheap."
"It smells so new, doesn't it?" Wedy asks, folding sheets in the bedroom while I stare at my reflection in the mirror as I am preparing for bed, my too-thin form and porcelain skin makes me look sickly. I barely hear as Wedy continues her small-talk, "Just to think that when I crawl in bed tonight I'll be the first-"
"and when I crawl in bed tonight, I'll still be the first" Aiber interrupts, gazing at me wearing nothing but underclothes. Wedy blushes at his innuendo, and excuses herself. "The first and only. Forever." He says, placing his hands on my naked shoulders in an act of pure possession. I school my expression, trying not to show how bleak a prospect this is for me.