Array
(
[text] =>

The day went by without much thought. Or at least the morning felt like that. I got up and dressed in formidable clothes before puking a dozen times in the wash room.  A massive headache came over me like none other. It was truly awful, worse than the prospect of drinking.

"Sir, are you alright?" Anabelle said cautiously. She rubbed a hand across my shoulders soothingly. "Do you have the flu, dear?"

I pushed her hand away from my forehead. "No, just a stomach bug is all." It was something in my stomach that was making me feel that way, after all. So I wasn't completely lying.

She nodded and stepped out of the room. I vomited once more before smoothing back my hair and making myself look presentable before meeting the family upstairs. Anabelle gave me a reassuring look before she escorted me out.

"You can go, Anabelle. Take a break today," I said. As she left the room I could've sworn I saw her jump and squeal. I let out a snort of laughter and rolled my eyes. No doubt she hated her job, despite having such a lax and likable lad like myself that spared her most of her work.

Coming outside into the corridor, I felt like an alien among the other people in First Class. Worst of all I felt like a complete criminal, a disgrace upon my social status and family name. Only Harry and a handful of anonymous lowlifes knew about my recent transition to the realm of the poor.

Anyone else, especially in my family, would kill me. After forcing me to dig out my own grave.

I shuddered and put the thoughts out of my mind, out of reach for the moment. Striding up the Grand Staircase and to the First Class dining room, I saw it was almost empty save for the few families scattered here and there. My own was at their regular table, chatting away with the captain of the Titanic. He was a regular visitor who dropped by during occasional mealtimes.

"Ah, Louis!" Father exclaimed before narrowing his eyes in scrutiny. "You look awfully pale, my boy. Fish catch your tongue, eh?" That caused a howl of laughter from the captain.

I forced a smirk. "Yes Father, it's nothing too terrible to fret about."

"Well then, my boy is learning to become a man," Father beamed. "A toast! To Louis, and his overcoming of seasickness."

Everyone chuckled at Father's attempt at humor before bringing their glasses of champagne together in a joyful clink. I raised mine lazily from the edge of the table and easily downed it. Bitter and disgusting. I thought the stuff I had the previous night could've been better had I remembered it.

The table became unusually quiet. No sounds of silverware on china. No talk or polite coughs. I looked up. "What's the matter?"

"Louis, you mustn't try your hand at Irish role play," Mother murmured from beside me.

That brought another round of laughter and guffaws from the gentlemen. I felt my face turning a bright shade of pink and my ears catching fire. Mother sent a slight smile in my direction, and in that instant I felt like my day just improved.

"So Louis, what are your plans for today, hm? Taking a stroll down the ship somewhere?" Father said.

I narrowed my eyes slightly. Since when was he ever interested in my plans for the upcoming day? "Erm, nothing much really. Possibly a bit of a walk down from one end of the floating palace to the other is really what I had in mind. Should be grand."

Father gave a nod of approval before chatting with the captain by his side. Mother, on the other hand, took the opportunity to talk to me before I got too caught up in eating.

"Louis, you really do look dreaful. And that black eye doesn't seem to be leaving anytime soon. Did you catch the flu, because you look so pale?" Her voice was laced with concern and her eyes wide.

"I'm-I'm fine, Mother, really," I dismissed. In reality I felt like my innards were about to come up my throat.

I looked down uneasily at the saucer loaded with baked apple slices and grilled ham. If it wasn't for last night I would've thought it looked divine. Instead I called over one of the servers and asked for iced water. Seconds later I felt the cool water wash down my throat and drive away the headache slightly.

Eventually I was able to finish my breakfast. The nourishment I needed was replenished, and I felt more at ease. Father departed for the smoking room with his friends and another of Mother's maids came to escort the children back to their room. I didn't know this maid in particular, and hadn't seen her too often before.

I trailed behind Mother as we set out to our cabins. Dahlia welcomed me inside my suite and shut the door behind her while I quickly went to my room and dressed down for the warmer weather. I tried to avoid the peasant clothing this time. Just for my parents' sake.

"Oh, sir, I happened across the lad from Third Class this morning," Dahlia said as I strode out of the bedroom.

"Yes, and?" I prompted her to continue.

"Would you like me to allow him in for future reference or would you rather have him be a part of my witch's stew?"

Dahlia always loved to tell me about her scary witch's cauldron she brought everywhere when I was a child. I was, of course, very gullible back then and believed it. Only when I turned fifteen did she confess it was something from the nursery. To the day she loved teasing me about it.

I chuckled. "That would be most unfortunate. No, just let him in if he ever comes around. And if Father or Mother show up then hide him in my bedroom."

"Very good, sir."

I exited the suite after relieving Dahlia of her regular duties and headed to the top deck. The day was bright and sunny, something I expected since we were out at sea for so long. The heat was bearable, and the occasional spray of mist in my face felt magnificent. Felt refreshing. My headache was decreasing and the nausea was starting to fade.

I examined the people around me on the deck. Most were seated and reading and First Class, while others were playing with their children and had the biggest smiles on their faces. They had to be Third Class. I knew not because of their clothes but because of their smiles. No First Class member would smile that broadly except when around family or spouse.

And yet, it brought me joy to see them so happy. Harry brought me joy when he smiled like they did. He smiled a lot when he was around me. I sat down on a reclined chair facing the sun, the young lad still enraptured in my mind. He intrigued me with his personality and recklessness and general attitude about life.

I never met someone so relaxed and laid-back before. It was an interesting take on life, especially given his trademark "live while we're young" motto. In a way it was good to live life before getting old and the first whisps of gray start showing through.

I wondered what it would be like to live life with Harry. Not exactly with him, but just alongside him. Not getting married but just having a partner to accompany you through the journey of life.

I never got to wonder too much as I drifted off on the deck.

----

A loud bell rang and woke me up. A warped voice sounded in the distance, like a broken recorder. It was indistinguishable until a jarring impact shook me to the core.

"Louis!"

I jumped as the voice screamed my name. I fully awoke and looked around. Harry was standing above me, looking down at me with concern and uncertainty.

"What, what is it Harry?" I said, but my sentence was slurred with sleep.

"Lunch hour is here. You slept through the whole afternoon," he said, helping me to my feet.

I gaped at him but had to close my jaw because of a ripple of pain underneath my skin. I felt at my face but the burning sensation spread down my neck. It felt like my skin was shedding.

"You look sexy with that tan," Harry remarked sensually. "Brings out your eyes."

I sent a scowl in his direction. I knew I was going to be in deep trouble if Mother and Father saw my skin, and I was going to be ridiculed by Madam what's-her-name just like yesterday at dinner. Well, first I was going to be questioned. And I would have no answers.

"I-I have to go, Harry," I mumbled, sidestepping him and avoiding his gaze.

I almost allowed those unwanted thoughts to creep back inside my head. Thoughts about Harry. Thoughts about being alienistic. Thoughts about being shunned. No, those thoughts won't find entrance inside my skull. Nope.

I kept my head hung shamefully as I straightened my tuxedo and sped towards the table where my family was already congregated. Unfortunately I spotted Mr. Guggenheim with his mistress heading towards us just as I took my usual seat. I could almost hear her thoughts about me and to whom they would be spewed out to.

"Welcome, Mr. Guggenheim. Miss Aubert." Father made the usual introduction to the guests at our table. I tuned out the commotion until the servers arrived and lunch was served.

"Louis? Louis, dear?"

I looked up from my plate and put down the utensil pushing around the Norwegian anchovies and tomatoes. Everyone was staring at me intently, for what reason was nothing I could've known.

"Mother?"

"Louis, your skin is scorched. Are you alright, dear?" Mother said uncertainly.

I straightened up and forced a smile. "I'm perfectly fine, Mother. No need to worry so much about me."

I wanted to strike myself right there and take back those very words, especially upon seeing the appalled look on her face. She didn't deserve to hear those cutting words, and neither did anyone who would use them against me.

"I think your boy has been around that lad from the slums of Third Class too much, Mark," the mistress murmured to Father.

I had had enough. I considered storming away in a rage but after my show last night I didn't deem it appropriate to reenact it. "May I be excused to my suite to reflect on my recent behaviour?"

"Go," Father commanded while soothing my Mother with gentle words.

I saw everyone's eyes from the table on me, and could feel everyone's eyes around the dimly lit room glaring into the back of my head. I felt singled out and victimized, felt judged by everyone in the room around me.

I escaped the dining area before I experienced a panic attack. My feet automatically carried themselves to my bedroom, where I was greeted by Dahlia and her worried face.

"Mr. Tomlinson, sir, your skin. Were you taking a bath with the sun?"

"Apparently so, Dahlia."

"May I ask why you are back so soon, sir?"

I hesitated. "I left before I caused another show for their entertainment." I spat out the last words like bile in my mouth.

"Whose, sir?" she asked tentatively.

"Just . . . everyone's," I sighed.

"Ah, I see. I take it your bedtime has arrived, then?"

"Yes, I'm exhausted."

Dahlia already knew the drill. If ever I was alone with the maids I could take care of myself. I told them specifically not to assist me with anything unless Mother or Father were around. Then they could look to be doing their job. But when it was just me they could relax.

I decided to sleep naked that night while staring out at the stars through the circular window. It felt odd sleeping without any garments on, but freeing at the same time. It felt more comfortable.

Damn you, Harry, I thought before I slipped into sleep.

[text_hash] => 28b774ad
)