[Titanic] Ticket

Lester's father once said that life begins by accident.

Lester stared viciously at the pale ceiling, as if he wanted to pick out a silhouette of the damned old man from it, and after a while he wriggled his lips and whispered, "This is a son of a bitch accident."

"Hey, Roland, don't lie down, the scenery outside—I mean the beauty from the first-class cabin, it's rare to see in a century!" A young man with brown eyes wearing a bonnet whistled from the side of the room While jumping to his bedside in three steps or two steps, winking - with a kind of frivolity that all men understand.

Lester turned over and faced the wall: "Leave me alone."

"Tch, you british bastard!" The young man rolled his lips, obviously disgusted by the lukewarm response, and walked out of the room with his hands in his trouser pockets, surrounded by several young men around his age. .

"how is it going?"

The young man muttered, spread his hands and said, "I told you earlier, that British guy hasn't talked to us much since he got on the boat. You have to rely on him to pick up girls, and wait until the next life! Let me see, he will Just relying on that face, who knows how the ticket came from?"

The young man squeezed his eyebrows, made a circle with his right thumb and index finger, and poked his left middle finger inward. The young men immediately laughed knowingly, and echoed: "Ryan is right, hey, those British guys—— "

The noise outside the room gradually faded away. Lester turned over and sat up, with his long legs resting on the cold railing of the upper and lower beds. The old, mottled skin flakes stuck to Lester's fingers—this made him frown in discomfort.

Lester opened the violin case, and there was a violin of the same age wrapped in red velvet. The tan violin body had a beautiful dark light from long-term use. Lester's eyes softened a little, and he lightly Touch the body and panel lightly.

This is not a good piano, and its sound is not accurate because of the poverty and long-term use of the owner's family, but it is a piano with a story, and its owner cherishes it-there is no doubt about it.

Lester picked up the violin, and took out a pressed, perfectly flat sheet of paper from the velvet interlayer.

"...which charge to account of S.S. Titanic..."

When these expected English words rushed into Lester's mind, he felt that the heavy piece of iron against his throat finally fell into his stomach, and his limbs seemed to be filled with cement, so stiff that he couldn't move.

Dupin Rolland was right in another saying.

God is a son of a bitch, don't expect him to offer you kindness.

Lester swallowed, his stubborn and rude father probably never expected that the son who seemed never to give him a good face would think of him frequently in just an hour.

If it weren't for the crisis, even Lester himself couldn't help but applaud him.

"God, I need a glass of brandy..." Lester covered his forehead, his palms were so cold that his heart seemed to freeze.

No one in this world can welcome another one as if nothing happened after experiencing one painful death.

The tactile sensation of the tongue of fire licking the flesh is still very vivid-hot, like the pain of magma gushing from the inside of his body, but at this moment he is in the North Atlantic Ocean, covered only by a torn jacket and a thin cotton quilt, the cold Moisture penetrated through the steel cabin and penetrated into the crevices of his bones-this taste was really uncomfortable.

"Lester, you don't look well, you'd better have a glass of vodka." A young man with a baby face poked his head out from the lower bunk, almost startled by Lester's pale face, he quickly He climbed up the stairs quickly, touched his forehead, and was relieved to confirm that he didn't have a fever, "Thank God, I thought you were sick. You know, no doctor in our third-class cabin wants to come."

Lester half stood up, squinted at him for a while, and then opened his mouth uncertainly: "...Ash?"

"It's me." The baby-faced young man scratched his cheek, still worried, "Are you sure you're okay?"

Lester waved his hand: "I'm fine, I just had a nightmare. Come with me outside to blow some air, you know, I haven't looked at this ship properly yet."

Ash looked happy, his green eyes were like two shining gems: "Oh, my God, I really didn't expect, Lester, you are willing to go out! Oh, my God, such good luck , maybe there is a nobleman who will give us a glass of cherry brandy, I know you love it!"

Seeing his back jumping happily like a rabbit, Lester pursed the corners of his mouth, slightly dispelling some of the haze that shrouded his heart.

Lester half leaned on the iron railing of the sampan, staring at the sky quietly and distantly.

It was dusk at this time, and the deep purple, faint blue, and rose-red sunset clouds shrouded the North Atlantic layer by layer. The evening sun reflected the light of kumquats behind the heavy clouds, and the Titanic was walking in the shadow of the backlight. Like a graceful mermaid, full of power and fantasy.

However, in Leicester's eyes, this incomparably majestic giant wheel undoubtedly has a touch of tragedy—as if the swan song of the doomsday of the gods, it is approaching death step by step.

"Hey, Lester, look what I got! A glass of fine cherry brandy!" Ash waved excitedly not far away, standing beside him was a tall young man whose appearance was not clear , but his eyes were sharp and shrewd, and he was looking at himself with interest at this time.

Lester pinned his blond hair that was blown by the sea breeze behind his ears, and walked calmly towards the rich first-class cabin with his piano case in his hands. The poor boy is full of curiosity and malice, but in Lester's eyes, this doesn't seem to be a big deal.

Lester gradually saw the man's appearance clearly.

This man is very good-looking, with brown hair, slightly lighter eyeballs, red lips, and a dark honey-colored skin that is rarely seen nowadays.However, his tough aura weakened the advantages of his facial features, making his whole body look like a tense bowstring, looking extremely dangerous. I don't know how Ash got a glass of brandy from him.

Lester stretched out his hand first, and said gently, "Lester Roland, the third-class violinist."

The man pursed his lips, raised his chin arrogantly, and said with disdain, "Karl Hockley, a wealthy businessman in first class."

In recognition of the vengeful character of the classic supporting actor on the Titanic, Lester chuckled lightly, and stretched out his arm in front of Ash's eyes without bluntness. He turned his head, looking extremely aggrieved.

Leicester didn't expect the brandy to be so good at this time, but the pure golden liquid in the goblet was unexpectedly pure and fragrant - it seems that being a nobleman is not useless, the young man smiled lightly, Shaking the glass lightly, he drank the whole glass of brandy in one gulp.

Carl Hockley stared sullenly at the unrestrained young man in front of him, his anger at Ruth's gaffe at the dinner table growing hotter.

"This is the wine your friend asked me for! How dare you drink it all up!"

Lester wiped the wet water marks from the corners of his mouth with his thumb, put the goblet on the tray of the waiter, and gave him a slightly surprised look—in his cognition, this is not a person who is willing to serve the third class. Cabin poor talker.

Whatever the reason, Lester was still grateful for the brandy that warmed him up, and explained in a good-natured way: "Ash is allergic to alcohol, and a strong drink like this would kill him. "

Carl Hockley was choking so hard that his lungs ached, and he heard Ash shout excitedly: "Look, look, she's beautiful! God, I've never seen a more beautiful woman than this!"

Lester raised his head slightly towards the direction of his finger, the girl's green lace-studded skirt was gently fluttering in the sea breeze - she had beautiful red hair, a plump and strong figure, like a woman bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun. Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty, it is no wonder that Ash lost his mind for her, this is really a rare beauty.

Cal Hockley's cold eyes could almost eat people, Lester chuckled lightly: "Mr. Hockley, in order to thank you for your brandy, would you please listen to me play a song?"

"Oh, my God, pull that! Pull that! Please, Lester!" Ash's attention was drawn back, bouncing around Lester—he didn't have a moment. Can calm down.

"No." Lester smiled slyly. "It is obvious that our Mr. Hockley needs a more suitable tune."

The young man with blond hair elegantly took out the very old violin from the violin case, put it on his shoulder, held the bow loosely in his right hand, and half-closed his eyes, feeling the moist sea breeze blowing gently on his cheeks. Flicked over.

When the bow touches the strings, a soft and sweet melody pours out from it, like apple saplings sprouting in midsummer night, or green mistletoe drooping down at Christmas, full of sourness A sweet mood, yet utterly satisfying and fluid because of the lover's proximity.

"To Alice" is a piano piece, playing it on the violin would be monotonous and boring, but fortunately, the current occasion does not require exquisite playing skills, chasing girls, flowers, music and candlelight dinner, as long as the atmosphere is here, there will be no one else Whether your steak is medium rare or not, is the violinist professional?

Carl Hockley was ecstatic. He almost gave Leicester an appreciative glance, then quickly walked up the steps and came to Ruth. When he arrived, he only turned slightly to the side, and did not leave without saying a word like before.

"Ruth, I apologize to you." Carl Hockley held the girl's hand and said sincerely.

However, Ruth came back suddenly as if she was offended, the fluttering red hair almost slammed into Carl's face with such force, she said with a sneer on her face: "You are trying not to let me finish listening to this piece? What's wrong with you, Mr Hockley? You men—ha—"