In the Grand Staircase Jack was practicing his hand gestures below the sweeping staircase in his gentleman's stance, when he saw Thomas at the top landing of the lavish staircase, in front of Honor and Glory, as he had come from the boat deck above.
He's gorgeous, Jack thought. Like a prince out of some fairy tale story. Meanwhile Thomas looked at Jack, as he almost didn't recognized who he was. He looked nothing like the character whom they were having a spitting contest earlier that evening. Jack had on a simple tuxedo, and a crisp, white shirt under, while Thomas had a black vest under his jacket, and two buttons of his shirt below his neck were unfastened, as he didn't wear a tie. His hair had also been slicked back, while a stray hair hung in front of his eyes. To Jack, he looked like a true work of art. He clearly can't take his eyes off of Thomas, and wished he could draw this fine handsome young man. They met at the landing near the cherub statue. Just then, Cal and Rose walked up to them.
"Rose, Mr. Hockley, you do remember Mr. Dawson, right?"
Cal was completely caught off guard. "Dawson? I didn't recognize you. Amazing. You could almost pass for a gentleman." he laughs.
"Almost." Jack says, with a hint of disdain, but nonetheless, he smiled. Cal and Rose walked to dinner, and Jack, heart pounding in his ears, turns to Thomas.
"May a man escort another man to dinner." he says, as he put on a mock upperclassman voice. Thomas laughs, but nonetheless, they walked arm in arm. Jack loved that Thomas looked almost feminine, so he traded places, despite Thomas being slightly taller, and almost looked like a copy of his sister, who was only months older than him. To Jack, Thomas looked to be a couple years younger, and he was happy for that, as they walked down the Grand Staircase, to the Reception Room down on D deck.
Theme song: Valse Septembre-I Salonisti
Jack settles in the large dining room, as Thomas and Rose were seated across from him, and Cal sat next to Thomas, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. Thomas Andrews, the designer of the ship, is seated next to Rose. Spicer Lovejoy was seated next to Cal. Also seated at the table were Bruce Ismay, Col. Gracie, the Countess of Rothes, Benjamin Guggenheim, Madame Aubert, the Astors, and Margaret Brown. Jack looks down at the various silverwares that were lined out in front of him. Rose looks up at him, clearing her throat.
"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Dawson. I hear they are quite good on this ship." Rose says.
"The best I've seen in a long time. Hardly any rats." Everyone gave a small chuckle. Even Cal puts his hand on the back of Thomas' neck, giving him a small squeeze.
"Mr. Dawson is joining us from third class. He was of some assistance to my partner last night." Cal told the company at the table. Before anyone else could question him any further about the incident the previous night, and to get him off the hook once more, Thomas decided to change the subject.
"Did you know Mr. Dawson here is quite a fabulous artist? He showed me some of his work today." Thomas says, as he winked at Jack, then smiles at him, as he lightly blushes. A small tingle ran down his back.
"Well, Thomas and I have a very different opinions on our definitions of 'art'. Not to impugn on your work, sir." Cal says, as he earned a few stifled chuckles from the dinner guests. Jack just simply brushes it aside. Dinner continued, but this time, the conversations were about Titanic related. As sort of a trick Mr. Ismay stands a pencil on a table, to demonstrate the stability of the ship. While this was going on Thomas discreetly shows the many silverwares in front of Jack of what food they need to be used on.
"Of course, the seas are dead calm at the moment, sir." Andrews says.
"All the same, Mr. Andrews. Dead calm or not, there are lots of other ships that will be rolling anyway."
Mr. Andrews: "That's perfectly true. As you say sir, she's as steady as a rock."
Rose went to adjust herself in the chair when she accidentally bumps the table, causing the pencil to fall over. Everyone breaks laughing.
"Someone must have jostled the table." Ismay laughs. "Sorry," Rose says, clearing her throat, then turns her attention to Jack. "And where exactly do you live, Mr. Dawson?"
"Right now, my address is the R.M.S. Titanic. After that, I'm on God's good humor."
"And how is it you have the means to travel?" Thomas was ready to eat his food, but instead puts his fork down, sat back in his chair and rolled his eyes.
"Well, I work my way from place to place, you know, on tramp steamers and such. But I won my ticket on Titanic here, at a lucky hand at poker. Very lucky hand."
"All life is a game of luck," Col. Gracie says.
"And do you find that sort of rootless existence appealing, do you?" Rose asked with a spiteful tone. Margaret gave her a glaring look. Jack, however, did not seemed fazed. He kept his calm composure, and this time Thomas was astonished.
"Well, yes, ma'am. I mean, I got everything I need right here. I got air in my lungs, and a few blank sheets of paper." Thomas looks up, surprised look on his face. Jack continues. "I mean I love waking up in the morning, not knowing what's going to happen..." he took a bite of his biscuit. "...who I'm gonna meet..." he glances back at Thomas, then smiles at him, then looks back at his sister. "...or where I'm gonna wind up. Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge, and now, here I am, on the grandest ship in the world, having champagne with you fine people." Jack manages to make a round of laughter, as he asks for more champagne. He turns his attention back to his dinner hosts.
"I believe life is a gift, and that you should live it to the fullest, to make each day count." Jack continued, his face taking on a more serious look.
"That's very well said of you." Col. Gracie says, and before he could raise his glass, Thomas pulls on his jacket flaps and stood up, and raises his glass.
"To making each day count." Thomas says.
"Here, here." they agreed, and raises their glasses. Cal seemed to be a little slow in raising his glass, or that he was intentional.
Soon there was laughter as Margaret told stories of her husband.
"Mr. Brown had no idea I'd hidden the money in the stove." she laughs once more. The crowds join in as well. "So he comes home, drunk as a pig, celebrating, and he lights a fire." she continued, and they laugh harder. Thomas had never heard such thing before, as he wipes a tear from his eye, from laughing too hard.
Now dinner had ended, and the men began to rise from their seats. Thomas spoke as softly as he could, hoping Cal or Rose wouldn't hear.
"Now its off to the Smoking Room for their fill on brandies."
As if right on cue, Col. Gracie asks his fellow men. "Won't you join me for an evening of brandy, gentlemen?"
Thomas chuckled softly, as if he heard his cue, then he continued, softly, "Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke to congratulate each other on being the masters of the universe." He shook his head in disgust. Gracie then turns to Jack.
Mr. Ismay spoke first. "Ladies, thank you for the pleasure of your company."
"Joining us, Dawson? Bukater? Well, you don't want to stay out here, with the ladies, do you?" he asks, then laughs.
Cal had his hand on Thomas' back, as if he was already been spoken for, and he was slowly being led away towards the Smoking Room. He then leaned next to Cal and told him softly he'll join him for a minute, just that something had to be taken care of. Cal ruffled Thomas' hair, then whispered something in his ear.
"No thanks, I think I'll be heading back." Jack says, as he looked sadly at Thomas, who was being slowly being led away from the dining room, as Rose kept a close watch on her brother.
"Probably best. It'll be all business and politics, that sort of thing. Wouldn't interest you. Good of you to come." Gracie says, then takes out a cigar from his coat pocket, and puts it in his mouth, before disappearing with the other men, while Rose followed the other women across the dining room. Jack soon took advantage of this. He grabbed Thomas' arm, then hands him a slip of paper, before patting him on his shoulder. He wanted so badly to kiss Thomas, but eventually, he contained his urges to do so.
"Time for my coach to turn back into a pumpkin," Jack says, as he gave Thomas a final handshake. Then he walks off, as Thomas raises an eyebrow, at the slip of paper that Jack had handed to him. He unfurls the paper, inside it read Make it count; meet me at the clock. Thomas quickly shot a glance both behind and in front of him. Cal had since disappeared into the Smoking Room, and Rose was continuing with her banter with the other women. Thomas runs the paper between his fingers, until he decided to make it for the Grand Staircase.
Thomas makes his way to the Grand Staircase, as Jack was facing the clock, studying its carved figures within Honor and Glory. As he climbs his way up the sweeping Grand Staircase, Jack slowly turns, and smiles. The clock softly chimes behind them as it indicated 9:00.
"That party was a real drag. I don't know how you were able to handle that stiff, dry humor in there. What do you say we go to a real party?" Thomas had heard of such parties. The grandeur, the raucousness of the steerage passengers he so wanted to be part of. The ethnicity of different people he wanted to hear again, like the first time he wandered down there when he looked for Jack. He gave Jack a playful, half smile, as it gave Jack the tingles once more.
"I'd like that."