Musings of a Constant Dreamer

This is part three of a three-part alternate-ending fanfiction that revolves around the characters of Adele Carrem, Matteo Vasari, and Charlie Stoke, of Fogbank Entertainment’s Storyscape Titanic novella.

Author’s Note: This story begins in the boiler room, drawing from the diamond scene between Adele and Charlie. Thereafter, the storyline diverges.

Part 1 | Part 2

Part 3: Fate, Everlasting

This is part two of a three-part alternate-ending fanfiction that revolves around the characters of Adele Carrem, Matteo Vasari, and Charlie Stoke, of Fogbank Entertainment’s Storyscape Titanic novella.

Author’s Note: This story begins in the boiler room, drawing from the diamond scene between Adele and Charlie. Thereafter, the storyline diverges.

Part 1 | Part 3

Part 2: Absolution

Feeling a warmth on my face, I begin to stir. Slowly opening my eyes, I find my stateroom bathed in a golden glow not unlike that of a spring sunrise. I sit up in bed with a gasp, breathless, realizing I’m still wearing my gloves and Maison Lucile gown from Zetta’s party. I’m confused, and in trying to remember the events of the night before, I find it difficult to discern between dream and reality. I remembered Matteo spiriting me away from the party, the two of us drinking wine in the exercise room. Perhaps I imbibed too much, and he brought me back to my room. But, the sinking…My heart still feels like it’s in my throat, the terror still so fresh in my mind, had it only been a nightmare? It was so terrifyingly vivid, but even so, where did reality stop, and the nightmare begin? No, I think to myself, something’s still not right. Something doesn’t feel right. Looking around my unusually quiet stateroom, I realize that none of Lena’s belongings are there; no suitcases, no gowns or shoes strewn about, no posters or newspaper clippings on the wall. I feel my heartbeat and breathing hasten as I jump out of bed, the sound of my own voice nearly startling me, “Something’s wrong. I need to get to Hileni.”

I swing my door open, immediately dashing down the hall toward the staircase. I’m relieved when I see other passengers, though I don’t stop to inquire, focused only on getting to my sister. I quickly apologize as I clumsily bump into people in the corridors, tripping over my gown, wishing briefly that I’d changed into my split skirts, though my need to find Hileni supersedes all else. I make my way down to the gate that separates third class and crews’ quarters from first and second class, where surprisingly, I find the gate wide open and without a steward nearby. Counting my blessings, I descend the stairs to F Deck, hurrying down the corridors to Hileni’s room, where I knock quickly on the door. “Hileni? Hileni! Are you in there, habibti?!”

The door opens then, and I’m relieved to see Mrs. Rouhana, though her eyes are red-rimmed and swollen as she offers me a gentle smile. “Adal.”

I’m caught off-guard by the look on her face, and speaking in Arabic, I ask, “Leila, what happened?” Looking around the room, my breath catches in my throat when I see none of Hileni’s, Rina’s, or Samara’s belongings, nor any of the three girls. Before Mrs. Rouhana can respond, the questions start coming. “Where are they? Where are their things? What’s going on?” I feel my hands starting to shake, my heartbeat drumming loudly in my ears.

Mrs. Rouhana gently guides me to sit down on one of the bunk beds, taking my hands in hers. “Adal, it was God’s plan.”

“W-what?” I stutter, feeling my emotions well up inside, not unlike the water flooding into the boiler room in what I thought had been a terrible dream.

She gently squeezes my hands, tears in her eyes as she speaks, “We prayed Adal. We prayed for clarity, for ourselves, for you and your companions, and everyone on this ship. Your sister, and my Rina and Samara, God’s plan was different for them than for us. They weren’t meant to stay here. They were blessed.”

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, tears welling up in my eyes. I realize the horrible truth that deep down, I already knew. The sinking hadn’t been a nightmare. The iceberg, the boiler room, the frigid water, the unimaginable terror - everything about the sinking was reality. And, where I am now, must be somewhere between Heaven and the absolute hell that we all suffered.

Mrs. Rouhana, undoubtedly understanding how I feel, squeezes my hands again. “Do not despair, Adal. His plan for you was to help, you and your companions saved many, many people.”

I look down at our hands, tears starting to roll down my cheeks. I recall rallying the first-class passengers on the Grand Staircase, the throng of third-class passengers Charlie, Matteo, and I helped through the gate, and the passengers we roused in steerage when we went door to door after leaving Hileni behind. Finally, the boiler room - I lost track of how much coal we shoveled. Wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow, seemingly an endless supply, trying to keep the pumps working for as long as possible.

“Rina, Samara, and Hileni,” she begins. “They made it to the lifeboats, Adal. You survive through your sister. She’s strong because of you.”

I’m still unable to speak, my mind having trouble coming to terms with the truth of my new reality, my heart breaking from the anguish of knowing that Hileni is no longer with me. Mrs. Rouhana wraps me into a hug, and as I cry into her shawl, I can only attempt to imagine all Hileni, Rina, and Samara had to endure in order to safely make it to the lifeboats. The feeling of anguish is then partially replaced by gratitude; gratitude that Hileni survived, and that she will be able to live a full life in America. But, after all we’d been through together, I never expected not to be by her side. After a moment, Mrs. Rouhana lets me go, and glances over my shoulder toward the door. “Adal, someone is here for you.”

I sit up and turn, looking over my shoulder. A sob escapes my throat when I see Charlie standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable, though his brown eyes are filled with emotion, shining with tears. He’s once again wearing his white Stewards’ jacket with gleaming gold buttons, the same uniform he wore the day we met, which now feels like a lifetime ago. I immediately leap up from the bed and run into his arms. Sobbing against his chest, I finally find my voice, “Charlie, Hileni’s gone. She’s gone…”

He wraps his arms tightly around me, leaning down to kiss the top of my head, his voice cracking, “She survived Adal, you saved her.” I realize then that he already knows the truth.

I will myself to stop sobbing and look up at Charlie, my breathing broken and uneven. His eyes are still tear-filled, though he smiles softly as he gently wipes my tears away with his thumb. “You saved her,” he repeats quietly. “You trusted her, you believed in her, and because you did, she survived.”

“I’m an awful person, Charlie…” I clear my throat, suppressing another sob as he looks into my eyes, his expression one of sadness and concern. “I’m so thankful she survived, that she didn’t have to suffer…But yet, I wish she was here, I want her to be here.” I feel my chin quiver, tears streaming down my cheeks anew.

“Dear Adal, don’t say such things,” Mrs. Rouhana begins in her heavily accented English, having joined Charlie and me in the doorway upon hearing my words. “You love your sister very much, and she’s still with you, and you with her, in your hearts. One day, you’ll see her again.”

“But I promised to keep her safe before we embarked. She was nervous about the ocean, and I assured her that on an unsinkable ship, a floating hotel for businessmen and multimillionaires, there was nothing for her to worry about. When we were separated, I told her I’d keep her safe,” I find myself starting to ramble, my thoughts a jumbled mess, not used to feeling so powerless and adrift.

Charlie gently rubs my back, his arms still around me as he looks into my eyes, “You kept her safe, Adal. There was no way of knowing what would happen, none of us knew. Not Captain Smith, not Mister Andrews, none of us.”

Mrs. Rouhana nods in agreement, “You kept her safe by giving her a chance to survive. She learned of strength from you, and because of that, she was able to lead my daughters to safety. You’ve prepared her to stand on her own. You saved her, in every way you could.” She pauses then, “and in turn, saved my Rina and Samara, too.”

I turn to Mrs. Rouhana then, her words striking a chord. I blink away my tears, nodding slowly as I take a deep, shaky breath, “I always tried to make her aware of her strength, to help her see, but she never seemed to believe me,” I shake my head and chuckle softly, sadly. Charlie releases me from his arms, and I embrace Mrs. Rouhana, “Thank you, Leila. Thank you for taking care of Hileni when I couldn’t. She survived because of you, too.”

Mrs. Rouhana returns the hug warmly, and smiles. “I did what any mother would.” She glances at Charlie then, and speaks in Arabic, “Now, go on, Adal. Your friend is waiting for you”. Her emphasis on the word “friend” no doubt refers to our picnic, when she asked who Charlie was to me.

I’m caught off-guard by her statement, remembering how conflicted I was to answer her question, as I was torn between whether Charlie was a close friend, or perhaps something more. But now I know what Mrs. Rouhana always knew, what took my entire world shattering for me to finally acknowledge. I nod, smiling softly, “Not just a friend, he has my heart. Thank you, Leila.”

She returns the smile warmly and nods, speaking in heavily accented English once more, “I feel like I should rest, I hope to see you both again soon.”

“You will, Mrs. Rouhana,” Charlie smiles softly, as he holds his arm out to me.

I take Charlie’s arm, and briefly wipe my eyes before nodding in agreement, “Thank you again, for everything.” Mrs. Rouhana nods and smiles, gently closing the door behind us.

When Charlie and I find ourselves in the hall, we notice other passengers exiting their rooms, many obviously confused, not yet understanding the enormity of what had happened. “Do we tell them?” I ask quietly, even as I’m still coming to terms with the truth myself.

Charlie thinks for a moment, and shakes his head as we start walking together down the corridor. “No, everyone will learn in time. For now, we need to…”

“Matteo!” I gasp, finishing his statement for him, having been entirely focused on Hileni until now. “I pray he found a way to survive…”

“Me, too. But, if not,” Charlie pauses then, “he’s here somewhere, and we need to find him.”

I’m momentarily taken aback by Charlie’s openness to Matteo, especially given the competitive animosity, and at times, outright disdain, that governed most all of their prior interactions. Though, I suppose everything we went through would change anyone, not only those who survived. Grateful, I hold onto Charlie’s arm, and with my other hand, hold up my dress so I don’t trip as we hurriedly move through the corridors in steerage. “Should we take the lift, or the stairs?”

“Stairs,” he nods without hesitation as he leads me to the forward part of the ship, where the Grand Staircase awaits. We walk at a brisk pace for several minutes, before Charlie slows to a stop nearby the Turkish Bath, not far from the stairs to E Deck. I stop and look up at him, finding his gaze on me, his eyes soft, but haunted. “Adal, I…” he hesitates, closing his eyes momentarily before taking a deep breath. “Before we go any further, I need to thank you - thank you for everything.” I look at him quizzically, and he continues, “Not just last night, but for every moment since the first day I met you at the gate. You helped me to see everything in a new light. It was brighter, warmer…” He pauses again, and I feel warmth rising into my cheeks. “You’re the bravest woman…Person…I’ve ever had the honor of knowing. I’m in awe of you, Adal; of your strength, your conviction, your dedication to your fight, your beauty.” His expression changes then, “But when you came back to the boilers, I’d never been so furious with anyone my entire life.” He chuckles sadly, shaking his head, “But, I knew I had to respect your decision, just as you’d respected mine. Having you there… It changed everything…” He trails off then, looking at me searchingly.

I feel tears welling up in my eyes at his words, my face warm with blush. “Charlie, I…”

He shakes his head again, “I’m just so, so sorry,” his voice cracks on the last word, betraying his feelings. “I’m so sorry I failed you. I couldn’t hold on; I couldn’t reach you. I tried Adal, damn it, I tried. I tried until I had nothing left. I couldn’t bear the thought that…” Hesitating, he takes a deep breath, “I couldn’t bear the thought that I was losing the woman I’d been waiting for my entire life.”

I’m speechless as I look up at him, my heart pounding. He sighs, glancing down at Matteo’s brooch, still pinned on my gown over my heart. “But I understand that these things are never simple. And, that we can’t control how, or what, we feel about someone.”

“Charlie,” I begin, my voice shaky as I take his hands in mine. “You didn’t fail me. I know you tried, and I tried too. I tried so hard to get back to you, and you…” I sigh, closing my eyes briefly at the memory, “You were the last thing in my mind before… Well, before all this.” I pause, realizing he’s moved closer to me, our bodies nearly touching, his hands resting gently at my waist. I’m silent for a moment, my eyes locked on his, “I came back for you, Charlie. I came back for you because I believe in you, and I wanted to fight with you. I wanted to fight for you.” I take a deep breath, my heart racing, “I came back because when I stepped into the engine room, I realized that while I could survive without you, I couldn’t truly live without you… Nor, would I want to.”

Charlie’s expression softens as he reaches up, gently brushing his fingertips along my jawline, “Adal, are you…?”

I nod, tears stinging my eyes as I finally speak the truth that I’ve long known deep down, “I love you, Charlie.”

A warm smile spreads across Charlie’s face as he gently pulls me to him, leans in, and presses his lips to mine. I return the kiss warmly and passionately, relishing the sensation that I was certain I’d never get to feel again. This kiss, though, feels different than any other we’ve shared. I’m unsure whether it’s due to what we’d been through, or simply because I was finally honest with myself, and allowed my heart to take the lead. I brush the thoughts aside, and choose instead to simply enjoy the kiss, to revel in its warmth, and to feel fully the connection between the two of us; a connection that could not, and would not, ever be severed.

After a long moment, Charlie slowly breaks the kiss, gently running his thumb over my cheekbone as he looks into my eyes, “And I love you, Adal.”

At his words, I hug him tightly, feeling safe in his warm embrace. Glancing up at him, I smile, “You’re never going to lose me, Charlie.”

He smiles warmly at that, and as we part and walk together around the corner to the stairs that will take us to E Deck, he chuckles softly. “Well, I don’t think I’d lose you, Adal. After all, there’s only so many places you could go on a ship. Not to mention, one that I know like the back of my hand.” He fixes me with a serious look before breaking into an impish grin, making me laugh for the first time since before Zetta’s party. I shake my head as we ascend the flight of stairs, though Charlie’s smile fades when we reach the landing on E Deck, sadness overcoming his features as he looks around. “It’s hard to believe all of this is gone.”

I raise my gaze, looking up through the flights of stairs, the gilt-edged oak banisters and railings gleaming, bathed in the same warm golden glow of my stateroom and the corridors, that only seems to be enhanced by the wrought iron and glass dome above A Deck. I sigh in quiet agreement, “There’s a lot I’m having trouble believing right now.” I find myself reminiscing, though my attention is quickly grabbed by a woman running down the stairs from D Deck, rushing past us, and down the flight to F Deck. Tears are streaming down her cheeks, and I feel a pang in my heart, knowing exactly the pain she feels. I watch after her, as if entranced, until Charlie gently rests his hand at my lower back, guiding me toward the stairs to D Deck.

“Come on, Adal. Let’s go find Matteo,” his tone is that of remorse, and resignation. Resignation likely due to the fact that there are passengers who are in clear need of help, but in this case, the help they need, Charlie cannot provide.

As we ascend the stairs, we begin to hear what sounds like the din of conversation, of a large crowd. Upon reaching the landing at D Deck, we’re both taken aback. “I never thought I’d see it…” Charlie begins, trailing off. We both look around the first-class reception area and into the first-class dining saloon, both absolutely filled with passengers – but not only those from first class. There are first class passengers, second class, steerage, members of the crew, men, women, children of all ages, conversing, some crying together, others searching for friends or loved ones, and many still seemingly in varying states of confusion or shock.

“Everyone’s together,” I begin as I look through the crowd, the entire room illuminated by the same ethereal golden glow through the large windows on either side of the ship. “It looks as though this has become the gathering place for those of us who…” I don’t want to complete my thought, still struggling to come to terms with all that we’d been through.

Charlie nods in agreement, his voice barely above a whisper, “The heart of Titanic herself.”

I strain and stretch to see over the masses, seeking Matteo, Zetta, Sabine, James, Lena, or anyone else I’d met while on the ship. I look up at Charlie, who is doing the same. “Charlie, do you…” I’m cut short when I hear a shout ring out over the crowd.

“Adele!”

I turn around, my heart leaping into my throat when I see Matteo at the bottom of the stairway leading from C Deck. “Matteo!” I grab Charlie’s shoulder, turning him around and pointing toward Matteo. “There he is, Charlie!”

When Charlie notices Matteo, he holds up his arm and calls, “Matteo! Over here!” He then grabs a hold of my hand as we start making our way through the throng of people, while Matteo tries to get to us.

I feel tears stinging my eyes, and when we finally reach each other, Charlie lets go of my hand as Matteo wraps me into a hug. I wrap my arms tightly around him, unable to hold back my tears as I settle into his hold. “Teo…”

“Adele, my dear Adele,” Matteo murmurs against my hair as he holds me to him. I feel a quiver in his chest as he attempts to hold back his emotions, before he slowly releases me from his embrace. I look up at him, finding him back in his waistcoat, tie, and jacket, his hair again perfectly coiffed, the familiar smell of his pomade relaxing me fully. He smiles warmly at me, his hazel eyes soft as he holds my gaze before turning to Charlie. “Charlie…” He begins, holding out his hand.

Charlie nods, offering a smile as he takes Matteo’s hand, shaking it firmly. “Matteo, I’m glad we were able to find you.”

Matteo nods then, returning the handshake with a smile, “Me too, Charlie. Me too…” He looks around, then, his smile fading when he turns his attention to me. “Hileni? Did you find her?”

I blink away tears, and shake my head, “No, she’s not here, Teo.” He nods, a sympathetic expression on his face. “What about Zetta, Sabine, and James?”

He shakes his head, his hazel eyes downcast. “No. Their staterooms are empty as well, as if they were never here…” He trails off then, and looks between Charlie and me. “I suppose that means they made it to their boat, doesn’t it? If I’m correct, that’s how this seems to work…” He glances downward briefly, before looking back to the two of us.

I glance at Charlie, and he nods. “It must. Everyone here,” he hesitates, searching for the right words, “everyone here wasn’t so fortunate.”

Matteo sighs, a sad smirk tugging at his lips as he shakes his head. “Fate puts us on a doomed ship, where we go through absolute hell, only to wind up right back on the ship again. It feels as though whatever deities everyone puts their faith in are simply using us for their amusement.” He pauses before looking between Charlie and me again, a sincerity in his eyes, “But, what I said, I meant. If this was to happen, I feel fortunate that I was with the two of you. You both treated me as an equal, never less than. You also didn’t judge me for James’ transgressions, and I thank you for that.” Charlie nods, but Matteo frowns slightly then, shaking his head with a bitter chuckle, “This is all absurd. Look around us,” his eyes scan the crowd of people that only seems to continue to grow, and Charlie and I follow his gaze. “All it took was our world as we knew it coming to an end for these people to finally realize that we all drown the same.”

We look through the crowd, and I see a few familiar faces. First, I see Mister Thomas Andrews, the man who designed the Titanic. He’s sitting on a green upholstered chaise, conversing with several men from steerage. I realize that while his expression is still haunted and full of remorse, he seems more at ease than when we met him the night before on our way to Hileni. Everyone is in various stages of dress, some in their finest evening gowns and tuxedos, others in dressing gowns and heavy coats, some even in pajamas, though nobody seems to notice, nor mind. I see Captain Smith, as well as the kindly stewardess who assisted me when I embarked, and who delivered my Marconi correspondences with Richard King. My gaze stops on a man I’m certain I recognize from dinner in first class. “Matteo, is that…?” I point the mustachioed man out, wearing a fine tuxedo and overcoat while he sits on a chair, bouncing a small girl from steerage, no more than 4 or 5 years old, on his knee. The girl is smiling and laughing, while the man, a sadness in his eyes, tells her she reminds him of his own daughter when she was young.

Matteo notices the man, and shakes his head, “John Jacob Astor, the wealthiest man on Titanic… If anyone had managed to get onto a lifeboat, I would have assumed it to be him.”

Charlie sighs sadly, “Money doesn’t mean a thing, especially not now.” He glances around the room again, before shaking his head, “So many still here, so many didn’t even have a chance.”

“No, but some still survived,” I pause, tears once again stinging my eyes, “Hileni, Zetta, Sabine, James, Lena, they survived. Perhaps they and others will use their experiences, their stories, to help prevent something like this from happening again… So, all of this, all of us, aren’t in vain.” Matteo and Charlie nod wordlessly, their expressions that of sadness and resignation, mirroring my own.

Just then, we hear a familiar voice ring out across the reception room. “Charlie Stoke!” It’s John, and several other members of the Black Gang, making their way through the crowd toward us. Charlie turns, his face lighting up to see his friends, his brothers, who had bravely remained in the boiler room until the bitter end. For a fleeting moment, I wonder what they’re doing up here, before I remember that the Titanic we’re on now has no need for them belowdecks. When John reaches Charlie, the two men embrace in a hug, patting each other on the back. John looks around at the finery of the reception area, and raises a brow, gesturing toward Charlie’s gleaming white jacket, “So, all this pomp was preferable to running coal, eh Stoke?”

Charlie laughs, shaking his head, “Well, it certainly was a little more relaxing.” He turns to Matteo and me then, “You remember Adal and Matteo, I’m sure.”

John nods, shaking Matteo’s hand firmly, “I do, and thank you for what you both did. You may not feel like it was much, but we needed all the help we could get down there.”

Matteo returns the handshake with a nod, “I’m glad to have helped, in any capacity. I just followed Charlie’s lead, and hope that it truly made a difference.”

John nods at Matteo, “It certainly did, without a doubt.” He turns to me then, a smile spreading across his face, “And, if it isn’t the only woman I’ve ever met who could hold her own alongside any member of the Black Gang! Ma'am, it was a pleasure.”

I laugh softly at his enthusiasm, “It certainly gave me an appreciation for all you do. I had no idea the backbreaking work that went into keeping a ship like this functioning.”

“Well,” John begins with a grin, “You’d be welcome in the crew anytime.” His smile fades at that, his gaze briefly shifting to his feet, before he turns back to Charlie with a smile, patting him on the back. “You’ve found a good one here, Stoke!”

Charlie laughs, shaking his head, though he glances at me, his brown eyes sparkling. I catch his glance, smiling warmly as he turns to greet the other trimmers and firemen that came up with John.

I shake my head in disbelief as they turn away, and murmur, “How can he be in such good spirits, in spite of all that’s happened?”

Matteo shrugs, speaking softly, “I suppose everyone has different ways of adjusting and coping with tragedy…” he trails off, and when I look up at him, I find his hazel eyes locked on me, an emotion there I can’t quite place.

“Teo, how are you?” I pause, my eyes searching his features, “How are you, really?”

He smiles softly, sadly, “I’m alright, Adele. Or, I will be. But,” he glances around the room again, before he shakes his head, “I need to get away from all of this, just for a moment. Join me, if you can?” His eyes are hopeful, and when I nod, his expression softens and he smiles more genuinely, “Meet me upstairs.” He turns then, heading back toward the staircase to C deck, looking over his shoulder briefly before disappearing past the landing.

I watch after Matteo for a moment, and then turn to Charlie, gently touching his shoulder to get his attention. “I’ll be right back; I’ll only be a moment.”

He raises his eyebrows, and noting Matteo’s absence, he nods. “Is everything alright?”

I sigh, nodding, “I think so. Matteo is still trying to come to terms with all of this, just like we are. I’m going to go talk to him.” I offer a smile then, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. And, like you said, it’s a ship, there’s only so many places I can go.”

This is a three-part alternate-ending fanfiction that revolves around the characters of Adele Carrem, Matteo Vasari, and Charlie Stoke, of Fogbank Entertainment’s Storyscape Titanic novella. 

Author’s Note: This story begins in the boiler room, drawing from the diamond scene between Adele and Charlie. Thereafter, the storyline diverges.

Part 2 | Part 3

Part 1: The Ill-Fated Night

My heart is pounding in my ears as sweat drips from my brow, the heat and steam combining with the soot from the boilers to permeate my every pore. My back aches, every muscle in my body protesting as I keep feeding the fires. I glance over at Charlie beside me, meeting his gaze as we weave between one another, his brown eyes twinkling despite the reality of what’s about to happen to us, to the rest of the Black Gang, and to everyone that won’t be fortunate to escape on one of the few lifeboats. My breath is becoming ragged and I know time is running out, the water in the boiler room inching higher with each passing minute. I finally stop, glancing down at my soft leather gloves, once white, now stained with soot nearly to my elbows. Charlie leans on his shovel beside me, his own breathing labored, his face and hair covered with sweat and grime. Despite the noise of men shouting, the clanging and scraping of shovels, and the unnerving sound of rushing water, it feels like we’re the only two in the world.

“Adal,” he begins. “It’s time for you to go.” He smiles softly, though it barely reaches his eyes. His beautiful brown eyes, normally warm and full of life, are now tired and conflicted, no doubt a mirror of my own.

My mind turns to Matteo, waiting for me in the engine room so we can make our harrowing trek through the ventilation shaft. Matteo, I sigh to myself. Despite everything we’ve been through, and everything that happened between he and Charlie, he understood and respected why I needed to stay behind to say goodbye. My heart is still torn between the two, Matteo’s jade and gold brooch shining on my chest a reminder of that fact. But now, I’m even more torn. Part of me wants to go, another part can’t bear to leave Charlie. Not now. Not like this. Against my own better judgment, my heart begins to speak, rather than my brain. “I don’t have to go.”

Charlie shakes his head sadly, “Yes, you do. This isn’t your time. Matteo is waiting for you.” I know he’s right. I avert my eyes briefly, and glance back up as he continues, “Find a way to survive, Adal. Live your life. Do great and amazing things. Make the world a better place.” He picks up his jacket, draping it over my shoulders, his hands brushing over my bare skin as he leans in to give me one final kiss. When his lips touch mine, I return the kiss with as much passion as I can muster. I couldn’t tell if the kiss lasted seconds, or minutes, as everything had started to run together. When we slowly part, Charlie smiles gently, “And, from time to time, spare an occasional thought for a poor English boy who loved ships. Do that, and I’ll be happy.”

My heart and stomach are in knots, unable to put the emotions I feel into words as I lock eyes with him for what is likely the last time. I wrap my arms around him and lean in, pressing my lips to his. I taste the soot and sweat on his lips, and attempt to convey everything I feel, everything I hope, and everything I wish I could say into that one kiss. It’s anxious and hurried and passionate, as if we’re both fitting a lifetime of need into a moment. We slowly break the kiss, my eyes fluttering open when Charlie gently brushes his hand over my cheek. He looks into my eyes for a long moment before wordlessly turning to rejoin the rest of the trimmers and firemen, while I turn toward the engine room where Matteo waits.

My heart and my brain are at war. I know I daren’t look back, my brain screaming at me to go, while my heart aches, tugging me in the opposite direction, back to Charlie. I take a few more steps, and despite my brain’s protests, I slow to a stop, looking behind me into the boiler room where Charlie, John, and the rest of the Black Gang toil in the rising water, the steam, and the soot, to afford the rest of us a better chance for survival. I watch Charlie for a moment, his form barely identifiable through the thick steam, and it’s then that I know. I don’t simply want to survive; I want to live. And, though I haven’t even known Charlie for a week, I can’t imagine a life without him, not now; Not after seeing a glimmer of what life could be with him.

Unable to turn away from the boiler room, I feel tears beginning to sting my eyes, and as if of their own accord, my feet start moving me back into the chaos. None of the men stoking the boilers seem to notice my presence, all focused on the immediacy of the task at hand. I return to Charlie’s side, replacing his jacket over the railing, and pick up my shovel. As he turns to heft another shovelful of coal, his eyes widen in disbelief, “Adal! You can’t be here! You need to go!”

I shake my head, defiant, tears welling up and threatening to roll down my cheeks. I yell loudly, ensuring he can hear me over the din, the same tone I used in first class to rally the passengers on the Grand Staircase, “I can’t go Charlie! I won’t go…And I’ve made up my mind.”

“But you have to go! You aren’t meant to be here, and you aren’t meant to stay down here. This isn’t how it ends for you, not here, not like this!” Charlie gestures with his arms as he speaks, incredulous, upset, though the emotion I see in his eyes betrays his feelings.

“Now Mister Stoke, you know that I’m a woman of conviction, and I’ll fight for what I believe in,” I pause, offering him the best smile I can. “I believe in you. I’ll fight for you, and I won’t leave you.”

Charlie’s expression softens then, realizing that I’ve made my choice, and nothing he says will make me change my mind. He shakes his head slowly, “There really is no arguing with you, is there, Miss Carrem?”

I shake my head solemnly, blinking away my tears, and in effort to suppress how I feel, I dig my shovel into the coal. “Now, let’s get back to work, these boilers aren’t going to stoke themselves, are they?” I offer him a smile, and am relieved to see a smile, albeit a sad one, spread across Charlie’s face.

He shakes his head, digging his own shovel in next to mine, “No, I suppose they aren’t.” He pauses once more, locking his eyes with mine, “You’re an incredible woman, Adal.”

I smile at his words, and quickly, we begin weaving between one another again, developing a rhythm as we work together with the rest of the men to keep the boilers going, the pumps working, the lights lit, and the wireless functioning for as long as possible. My brain continues to scream at me, worried about my survival, my heart torn, even still, between Charlie and Matteo. Despite it all, deep down, I feel that in this moment I’m exactly where I need to be. Exactly where I’m meant to be.

In the minutes that pass, we don’t even notice the frigid water nearing our knees. I briefly slow, standing up and stretching my back as I wipe the sweat from my brow with my gloved forearm. I feel a presence behind me, and when I turn, my heart leaps into my throat when see Matteo. His jacket and waistcoat have already joined Charlie’s over the railing, his tie is loosened, and a sheen of sweat is already visible on his brown skin. It takes me a moment to find my voice. “Matteo?!” I shout over the clamor, over the sound of rushing water that only seems to have gotten louder.

“Well, I couldn’t let you and Charlie have all the fun, now could I?” Matteo smirks, his eyebrow raised.

“Matteo, what are you doing here?” Charlie’s chest is rising and falling with each deep breath, the look on his face a mix of disbelief, curiosity, and suspicion. He shakes his head, gesturing toward the engine room, exasperated. “I showed you the way out, don’t you understand? It’s your only chance, and there’s no more time. Boiler room 5 has flooded, and there’s no other way back to the upper decks, much less the lifeboats!”

Matteo shrugs dismissively, “I’ve never been much for heights. Now, high society, perhaps…” He pauses briefly, glancing around the boiler room before returning his attention to Charlie, “But climbing out of a funnel sounds…unpleasant. It’s also a bit warmer in here than out there, isn’t it?” I catch myself smiling slightly at his dry, sarcastic wit, though it does little to mask the underlying nervousness clouding his features.

Neither man speaks for a long moment, and I feel the tension between them start to build. Just as I’m about to say something, Charlie finally sighs, shaking his head. “You’re both…” He pauses, and half-smiles as he wipes the sweat from his forehead, “Thank you.”

Matteo nods respectfully as Charlie quickly returns to work, and when we both lean down with our shovels, he speaks softly, “I had to come back for you. I waited…”

I look into his hazel eyes when he trails off, seeing a vulnerability there that prior, I’d only seen in fleeting glimpses. “Matteo, you should’ve gone ahead…”

He shakes his head as a lopsided grin tugs at one corner of his mouth, “Gone ahead and what? Shivered in the cold, sharing an intimate lifeboat with James, with only one another to keep warm? Pardon my saying, but that sounds utterly dreadful.” He smiles sincerely then, “I’d rather stay with you, Adele. No matter the circumstance.”

I feel the color rise into my cheeks and I’m unable to hide my smile, though the sound of rushing water seems to grow louder, reminding us both the reality of what we’re about to face. I quickly press a kiss to Matteo’s cheek, lingering there for several seconds before I return to shoveling. The three of us quickly find our pace, working in unison to give everyone else still on the ship their best chance for survival.

Minutes pass, but they feel like hours. My body aches, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I struggle to keep pace with Charlie and Matteo. The noise in the boiler room has reached a crescendo, a cacophony of laboring, shouting men, clanging and scraping shovels, roaring furnaces, and rushing water now pouring in through the orlop deck above. I glance at Charlie and Matteo at my side, both men soaked with sweat, covered in grime and soot. Matteo’s normally perfectly coiffed hair is now hanging wetly over his forehead into his eyes, his tie long gone, and his shirt filthy and soaked through; A disheveled state I’d never seen him in before. Charlie keeps up his stiff pace, stoking the boiler as only a professional could, stone-faced, with unwavering commitment to his friends, his passengers, and their safety above all else, even above himself. I steel myself, pushing harder to keep shoveling, willing my mind to go anywhere but here, anywhere but the chaotic boiler room on a doomed ship.

Hileni.

No matter where I will my thoughts, they return to her. My baby sister. She’s grown up so much on this voyage, but still I wonder if it’s the events of the past few days that have changed her, or if it’s a change that’s been happening over time that has simply gone unnoticed. Unnoticed, perhaps due to our daily familiarity, or due to our long hours at the factory and my activism that kept me in prison, seemingly more often than not over the past several months. I feel a prickle of shame that I hadn’t been there for her, that I’d somehow let her down after mother and father died. She always understood, or seemed to. She understood that I was fighting not only for myself, but for her, and all other women to have the same rights as men, fighting for a better life for everyone.

I think of her face, the feel of her small form in my arms when I hugged her the last time before leaving her behind with the Rouhanas. She believed so strongly that God would have a plan for them, and for Matteo, Charlie, myself, and everyone else on this ship. And, any questions about these plans were best answered in quiet prayer. It all seemed so silly at the time, but who am I to question what she believes? I can’t help but wonder how things would be different had she come with us. Would I have chosen to stay with Charlie if it was Hileni and Matteo waiting, rather than just Matteo? Would Hileni have wanted to stay? Would we have even been able to make it up the ventilation shaft, and if so, are Zetta and Sabine still on board, saving us spots on a boat? Would it all be for naught, our best efforts wasted, despite doing everything we were supposed to do? Should I have forced Hileni to come with us? Did I make a mistake leaving her behind, dooming her to a terrible fate? I promised I would keep her safe; had I failed her?

My mind is swirling with questions, and I don’t even realize I’ve stopped shoveling until I feel Matteo’s gentle hand at my lower back, seemingly jolting me back to reality. My eyes focus, Matteo and Charlie both at my side, their faces awash with concern, and only then do I realize I’ve been weeping. “Oh, Adele,” Matteo says softly, moving his hand in slow circles over my back in effort to comfort me.

I attempt to calm my nerves and clear my throat, ready to start shoveling again, when Charlie gently places his hands over mine on the shovel. “Adal,” he pauses, looking at me with a sadness in his eyes, “It’s done.”

“Done?” I look between he and Matteo, incredulous, not understanding what he means, nor how we could possibly be ‘done’. “We need to keep going, we need to make sure Hileni and Zetta can make it off the ship, it’s not done yet! There’s still time!” As I move to shovel more coal, I realize then that the water has risen above our knees, now dangerously close to flowing into the boilers themselves, the deck beneath our feet noticeably slanted as Titanic lists to port. I stop, the shovel slipping from my hands and landing in the water with a splash, Charlie’s hands gently leaving mine. I watch the shovel sink, taking notice of my gloves and my blue bejeweled Maison Lucile gown, soaked with a mixture of sweat and water, stained with soot, realizing then that none of it mattered. Not the finery, not the pomp, it didn’t matter what ticket we held, what we wore, or what dining room we were served in. Fate doesn’t discriminate. Scanning the boiler room, I see the other trimmers and firemen slowing their efforts as they come to the same realization Charlie had only moments before. My gaze returns to the water where my shovel now rests, my mind struggling with the absolution of what was about to come.

“Stoke!” A shout rings out behind us, and we turn to see Charlie’s friend John wading through the water. “The water’s rising too fast!” His expression changes then, almost to a look of horror, when he sees myself and Matteo. “No, no, no! You aren’t supposed to be down here!”

Charlie chuckles sadly, shaking his head, “That’s what I tried to tell them, and you see how well that worked.” He pauses, nodding to Matteo before looking back to his friend, “They helped us, John. Some of the other firemen evacuated to the boats, but they stayed. They made a difference.”

John nods appreciatively, but then looks back over his shoulder, our gaze following his to one of the watertight doors, where water is starting to leak in around all sides, the sound of metal grating and groaning beginning to sound more like the death throes of an otherworldly beast than anything a ship could produce. He turns back to us and nods again, “I won’t say it was a wise decision, but thank you, both.”

Matteo and I can only nod, when Charlie begins to speak. “Well, this is it, John,” he pauses then, glancing around the boiler room. “It’s been an honor. Fair winds and following seas, my friend.” John bows his head momentarily, before wading off toward another stoker who’d called for help across the boiler room, leaving the three of us where we stood, the water now rising faster than before, and the slant of the deck becoming harder to withstand.

We stand in silence taking in the scene around us, overwhelmed by the enormity of what’s happening. I adjust my footing, and suddenly slip on the slanted deck, falling to my knees in the water. The frigid water shocks my body, as I only now feel how cold the water truly is, having stopped shoveling coal and feeding the boiler. “Adal!” I hear Charlie’s shout over the noise, he and Matteo both reaching down to grab my hands and help me up.

I sputter to my feet, shivering, as Charlie hurriedly grabs Matteo’s jacket from the railing, wrapping it around my shoulders. I curl into the jacket with a quiet “thank you”, but nearly lose my footing again, feeling as though the ship is moving beneath us. I know Matteo and Charlie can feel it too, their eyes widening as we all reach out and grab onto the railing to steady ourselves.

Matteo still has a firm hold of my hand, his other gripping the railing tightly, leaning into it to keep from slipping himself. He chuckles dryly, his tone conveying considerable animus, “So much for 'unsinkable’.” He shakes his head then, looking back over his shoulder at the enormous steel door, leaking around all sides, “And, 'watertight’”.

Charlie frowns, his eyes flashing, “You have no idea, do you?” he shakes his head curtly. “This ship is engineered beyond any that has ever existed, any other ship in this position would have already gone under. Even the greatest engineers are unable to plan for every possible eventuality.” His tone is sharp and defensive, “And that includes gigantic icebergs that come out of nowhere in the middle of the North Atlantic.” He holds into the railing with one hand, his other arm wrapped around my shoulders, where I shiver still.

I grimace at Charlie’s tone, and looking between the two men, I note the change in Matteo’s expression, knowing full well he’s preparing a repartee. I feel anger welling up from the pit of my stomach, and with my teeth chattering, I snap, “Is this necessary?! Bickering now won’t change anything. The time to change anything was before we left port. All we can do now is pray that Hileni, Lena, Zetta, and Sabine made it safely to the lifeboats. Pray that all our work, everything we’ve done, somehow made a difference… No matter how small. So please, both of you, just stop.” I sigh heavily and adjust my grip on the railing, leaning into Matteo’s comfortable form as Charlie’s arm reflexively tightens further around my shoulders, my eyes still flashing between both of them.

Matteo and Charlie sheepishly exchange sidelong glances, a current of understanding passing between the two men. After a long moment, Matteo finally breaks the silence, “…And James. Hileni, Lena, Zetta, Sabine, and James.”

I gaze downward at the mention of James, but nod. “Yes, and James. This is going to change everyone, whether we live or die. Nobody on this ship will be the same after tonight, including him.”

Charlie nods in agreement after a moment, though his tone reflects his lingering animosity, “Hopefully for his sake, and that of his aunt, it’s a change for the better.”

Just then, the deafening sound of grinding metal, splintering wood, and what sounds like explosions begin to ring out all around us, seemingly from all directions. My heart leaps into my throat as we huddle together, bracing ourselves for what’s to come. My body overcome by fear, I scream. “What’s happening?!”

“I don’t know, but hold on!” Charlie yells, though he can barely be heard over the ear-splitting noise.

Matteo’s eyes dart around the room, trying to discern where the loudest of the sounds are coming from. He ducks in closer to Charlie and me, shouting to be heard, “No matter what happens, we hold on, we stay together!”

The noise becomes deafening, and suddenly, water rushes in from all sides, snuffing out the fires in the boilers, the room plunging into chaotic darkness save for periodic flashes from exposed electrical wires. The water comes up so rapidly that within seconds, we’re clinging to one another along the gangway above the boilers, the icy water stinging my body with the pain of a thousand knives. I feel Matteo tighten his hand around mine, Charlie now holding tightly to my opposite arm as I grip the railing along the gangway, the three of us trying to keep our heads above water as the tumultuous ocean seems to be rising up to swallow us - and the Titanic - whole. Terror grips my heart, and briefly, I wonder if I’d made the wrong choice to stay behind. As quickly as the thought entered my mind, it was gone, and in the split-second brightness of an electrical flash, I see Charlie’s and Matteo’s expressions, conflicted and terror-filled, no doubt a mirror of my own. The water is rising faster, and I kick my legs, straining to keep my head above water, gasping with a scream, “Charlie! Teo!”

“Hold on Adal, we have you!” Charlie shouts, attempting to reassure me as he grips my arm tighter.

“We won’t let you go!” Matteo yells as he adjusts his hold on the gangway with one arm, attempting to lift himself higher out of the water, his other hand still squeezing mine tightly in attempt to pull me up with him. The water continuing to rise, Matteo coughs as the water splashes into his face. Between gasping breaths, he shouts, “If this is how it ends, I’m glad I’m with you, Adele… And you too, Charlie. You’re a good man.”

Just as Charlie is about to respond, I feel my grip on the gangway starting to slip as a vacuum pulls me downward into the swirling water. I hurriedly look around, and to my horror, I see some of the other men disappearing under the tumultuous surface; anyone who didn’t have a tight hold on a railing, pipe, or part of the gangway was being pulled down. I attempt to adjust my grip on the gangway but instead, lose it entirely, my arm twisting from Charlie’s grasp. I scream and grab for him, thankfully catching his hand, Matteo still holding tightly to my other, both men struggling against their own exhaustion and the frigid, rising water to pull me up against the current. I try screaming for help, but am cut short when water floods my mouth, momentarily taking my breath away.

I cough, sputtering, and attempt to take a deep breath, catching a glimpse of the chaotic scene in the boiler room. Men yelling as the water continues to rise, its surface undulating and angry, a far cry from the tranquil, mirrored surface I admired only hours before. The air is thick with steam and smoke from the snuffed furnaces, the darkness only briefly interrupted by electrical flashes, the entire scene worse than any nightmare I could ever imagine. Still struggling, I squeeze Matteo and Charlie’s hands tightly, kicking my legs, attempting to pull myself higher out of the water. Despite my efforts, I’m unable to keep my head above the surface, and straining, I look up, seeing Charlie and Matteo shouting as they look in after me, though I’m unable to hear them. My grasp on Matteo’s hand starts to falter, and as my hand falls from his, his eyes widen with terror and he frantically reaches down after me, another electrical flash briefly glinting off of his grandfather’s wristwatch, now submerged beneath the ocean’s surface. I struggle to pull myself up using Charlie’s arm, and stretch for Matteo, though his outstretched hand remains just beyond my reach. The current, then proving too strong for Charlie alone, pulls my hand from his. Another wave of terror washes over me when I lose touch with Charlie, and as I feel myself being dragged down, I scream. The merciless ocean mutes my screams, nobody can hear me, the only evidence the flurry of bubbles rising through the water toward the surface. I see Charlie and Matteo let go of the gangway and dive in after me, and kicking my legs, my arms outstretched, I desperately reach for them. For a moment, their faces are briefly illuminated by another electrical flash, and I see on them expressions of horror I’ve never seen before, and I know I’ll never see again. No matter what I do, and no matter how they try, the ocean ensures they remain just out of reach.

This isn’t my first foray into the Tumblr-verse, but I am returning from a break that’s lasted for quite a few years. My old Tumblr doesn’t really feel like “me” anymore, so I thought I’d start over.  I used to love to write (all the time), but life happened and my writing was put on the back burner for quite awhile. I participated in roleplaying, wrote fan fiction, and wrote my own original fiction. As for the fandoms I was a part of? Well, that’s on a need to know basis :)

I’m a constant reader of all things fiction, from bestselling authors to fan fiction to choose-your-own-adventure type apps on my phone. The latter is what brought me back here. I came across an ad for an app called Storyscape, the ad highlighting a Titanic story, which immediately piqued my interest. Learning about the Titanic has been a passion of mine since before the movie was even released. Naturally, I jumped at the chance to experience a new story on the Titanic, and I wasn’t disappointed! The writing drew me in, the character development and artwork were phenomenal, and it was refreshing to find an app like that with a real story focus other than typical high school drama. 

So, that brings me to this blog. Reading Storyscape’s Titanic reignited my passion for writing through its compelling storyline and subject matter. Thus, my first post here (well, after this one), will mark my return to writing, and I just hope others enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed imagining and writing it.

And, on the subject of Storyscape’s Titanic, and in the spirit of full disclosure, I’m 100% Matteo x Adele and Charlie x Adele. Making me choose would be like Sophie’s Choice. (So pleeeease don’t make me choose! T_T)