[Titanic] Ticket

White Cuckoo's morning always starts with a rich and warm breakfast, and the atmosphere at the table today seems to be particularly pleasant-probably because everyone feels relaxed and happy in Mrs. Bucket's absence.

At Catherine's feet was a small basket filled with duck down and silk—two puppies were slowly turning their bodies in it. They looked much better than last night, and they looked full of energy: "Good morning, brother, Good morning, Lester."

"Good morning, Catherine." Carl smiled and sat down opposite her, and carefully opened the chair for Lester, "You don't seem to be in a bad mood."

Catherine crossed her hands under her chin, and said calmly: "A small gift, you know, even a little girl can't refuse this."

Carl snorted softly: "It sounds like I have a cute little sister, don't you, oh, to be honest, I can't believe it - all the young men in New York don't know how to please you. Remember Little Mr Campbell, he was complaining to me the last two days how hard it is to make you smile - please, Lovejoy, ask the kitchen to make me an extra lemon meringue."

"Okay, sir."

Catherine raised her hand and asked for a small cup of fresh milk, and lazily perfunctory while adding sugar to it: "That ignorant eldest son of the baron? God knows how anxious his IQ is. He put all the female creatures in America They are all on the list of wife candidates, for the sake of his friendship with you-when the cookies grow up, I will wash them with my own hands and send them to his bed."

Carl looked at Lester with an expression of "how dare she give such a disgusting name to her dog and behave so unkindly, after all, it's her pet", who was amused by him, Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "Don't be stupid, I told you, I picked the best name."

Catherine took a sip of her own milk, and then asked politely, "Lester, are you going to Macy's later, as usual?"

"Yeah. A little problem, I'm in business with Victor - oh god, don't try to roll your eyes, Carl. You know what I'm up to, control freak." Lestat With a long voice, he satirized Karl, who frowned deeply—he looked like he didn’t know anything—the play was good, the young man smiled, turned his head and replied gently, “What can I do?” Can you help me, girl?"

"I'd like a hat - the newest one from England, Messi hasn't released it yet, but I know you have it."

Lester shrugged: "Even without me, Victor would not want to let down a beauty like you."

"No—come on, Strauss doesn't want to have anything to do with anyone named Hockley—male or female," Catherine commented sharply, which, to be honest, was a bit accurate.

……

"So, we walked all morning, just to come to such a dilapidated low-rise building where I can't see where it would be more appropriate to put my leather shoes and get a cold rejection?" Victor raised his eyebrows, he really It was too tall, and with a broad and strong body, Lester was squeezed into the corner by him, feeling like a whole piece of bacon that had been dried and squashed severely - the culprit had no intention of getting out of the way at all, Even jokingly drove him in again.

The young man tried to put some distance away from him, and threatened aloud: "Your language skills have improved, Victor—don't force me to beat you, there is absolutely no false word."

Victor raised his arms above his head, leaned down and said expressionlessly, "It was your mistake, boy. You promised you would show me something good."

Lester spread his hands: "It's not the time, it's obvious. I should bring Jack."

"Hockley's fiancée's concubine?" Victor raised his eyebrows almost to the side of his hair, he was finally willing to back away a little, and Lester slipped out of his control like a fish—a little Shi who had no plans Mr. Traus obviously misjudged his sensitivity and expressed some regret from the bottom of his heart, "Hey, this is a foul, Lester."

"So? How about we rewind and do it again? Don't even think about it, no way, fuck you."

Lester walked down the stairs. His frame was small, and his figure looked thin and slender. The cotton short sleeves outlined the beautiful and clean lines of his back with the movement of his muscles. His legs wrapped in jeans made it impossible to take his eyes off. , Victor put his hands in his trouser pockets, his eyes greedily described all this.

To be honest, he felt a little tempted—the kind that seriously wishes to spend the rest of his life with someone.

Victor didn't think there was anything wrong with him, and in terms of the overall ranking of New York, he was even slightly ahead of Carl Hockley - besides, Hockley always had endless small problems to solve - such as his The old-fashioned egomaniac father and the uncertainties of not getting the right of inheritance at the age of 30.

As a lover, Lester is almost impeccable, and as a business partner, Victor has no doubt that sooner or later he will make a big name.Judging from this, Hockley seems to have no advantage at all. If they hadn't known each other earlier, it is really unclear who Lester is with now.

Victor clenched his fingers, a sure-fire smile on his face.

Lester has a good memory, and he quickly found Broadway along the way he came. The flexible body draws delicate and powerful arcs one after another in the air—he looks extremely beautiful, with his wide trousers raised slightly, like a bird of paradise with a gorgeous and full tail standing in the water.

"You brought a stranger!" Bell stood in front of Lester vigilantly. He looked very afraid of Victor, with a sullen expression on his face.

Lester leaned lazily on the truck compartment: "Don't say it's the same as you occupying Broadway. Hey, Alex, I bet your dancing level is not even on the stage of a big theater." Not to lose color."

"Thanks for the compliment, man." Alex crossed his feet in an exaggerated and mischievous courtesy, and then kicked Bell hard in the ass. "Three crepes! One only wants vegetables, An extra cheese—what about you, sir? Extra meat, I suppose."

The boy laughed happily, Victor blinked, glanced at the name of the store slowly, and then said as sincerely as possible—although his expression never changed a little—“Excuse me, I like beef More than chicken... Mister Augustus."

Bell stormed into the store to prepare food for them. Alex untied the rubber band that tied his hair, smoothed his sweaty hair with his fingers, and asked leisurely: "Are you going to take the old man today? Turner, Lester? Not necessarily a good idea, if I ask you—and you're taking strangers."

"Vector sounds really unpleasant." Lester chuckled at his statement - Victor rolled his eyes expressionlessly, the young man's fingers pressed slightly in the air - — He occasionally has such small movements, which means that his thinking is getting better, "Anyway, I hope the sooner the better."

Lester frowned slightly. For some reason, he always had a bad premonition recently—it was as if some trouble was coming, and he was eager to develop his career. It will give him a sense of security.

"I guess Jack must have told you the old Turner's story. I don't think he would agree to sell you that painting—it was his life, and I think it's irreplaceable for him." Alex Kex took the crepe from Bell's hand—the latter was a little silent, with a rare complex and tolerant expression on his face, he probably could fully understand the old Turner's thoughts—if one day he Without Alex, the world no longer has any meaning in his eyes.

So few people in this world are willing to give all their love, because it is like placing your fragile and sensitive heart in the air without any defense. The scorching sun may burn it, and the rain and snow may freeze it. Too many things are enough to hurt yourself - until the heart is broken, the heart is pierced, and the blood flows like a river.

Lester smiled, but anyone could see the deep shadow in his eyes: "Anyway, I need to try."

"I wish you success." Alex held up the crepe and gave a goofy smile.

……

Until the evening, Lester and Victor visited Old Turner again—it was Jack who opened the door for them. The big boy seemed a little surprised, but he quickly guessed Lester's purpose, his eyes Complicated: "I should have thought - Lester, to be honest, it didn't make me feel good."

"If possible, I hope you accept my apology." Lester bowed to him gently and sincerely, but his eyes were calm and powerful. "But I thought you already knew me."

Jack let them in, and only said softly when the young man bent over his shoe covers, "But I thought we were friends already."

"On that point, I've never denied it."

When they walked in, Ruth seemed a little emotional - she had just cried, and it was obvious that Old Turner was the calmest of them all. He even looked at Victor carefully, and then asked: " Have you seen her?"

Victor noticed the old man's words, as Alex said, this does not seem to be an easy deal - Old Turner is almost obsessed with his paintings.He nodded cautiously: "Yes, sir. It's a masterpiece, if I ask you."

Old Turner's silver-grey eyes still looked unwavering: "I know why you're here—I won't sell my soul, she's all I have left."

Lester frowned. He didn't expect this matter to be deadlocked from the very beginning. He understood people like Old Turner—they turned their arrogance into flesh and blood, and built their bones with stubbornness, so that they despised this All the material desires and emotions that can be measured by money in the world.The hardships and tribulations he suffered in his early years made him highly guarded against himself, the so-called upper class. If Lester guessed right, he would even prefer to burn this masterpiece before his death rather than wanting it to fall into the hands of a wealthy businessman. Collection library or which auction house.

"I don't think it's any good for you to dust <Angel>." Lester said coldly. Compared with the eager desire that was constantly churning in his mind, his expression seemed too indifferent and cold, and his eyes were as sharp as To pierce old Turner's expression as hard as granite, "She once had her own parents, husband and even children, and you are not the only one who cherishes her for the rest of her life."

"Enough! How dare you say such a thing!" Ruth roared viciously, "They are already pitiful enough, this is the property of Old Turner, you have no right to force him to hand over his lover!"

"Actually I don't, Miss Buckett." Lester chuckled softly. "Just speaking from the heart. What do you think this painting really represents? True love, longing, heartbreaking? Maybe there is, but In my opinion, this can only represent the remorse and embarrassment that a coward will never get over. Please ask yourself, Miss Buckett, if I once made any attack on what you and Jack have done?"

Jack held Ruth's cold palm, and Lester still maintained a gentle smile: "No, isn't it. I admire your courage, and I always believe that if Jack draws such a picture for you, it must be full of sweetness. And admiration - because you have taken this step, in any case, it is worthy of encouragement."

The room fell into a long silence, and Victor looked at Lester seriously—the young man's side face was very delicate, probably because he remembered something, his eyelashes drooped slightly, his expression was soft and warm, he thought of himself Maybe I will never be able to really understand Leicester.

He has the hypocrisy and coldness that a capitalist should have, but at a certain moment, he can be more sincere and warm than anyone else, which is fascinating. Really, it almost makes people want him desperately.

Victor raised the corner of his mouth. He was jealous of Carl Hockley from the bottom of his heart.

The peaceful sound of insects outside the window was suddenly interrupted, and some excited shouts came through the glass. Jack rushed to the edge of the window sill as if his whole body had been electrified, and he roared at the top of his lungs: "Scumbags! You bastards! Keep it! Don't touch Garcia!"

Old Turner rushed downstairs like an extremely angry leopard. Victor stopped Lester who wanted to go down together, looked sideways out of the window, frowned and said: "They smoked too much marijuana , totally irrational, you shouldn't join in the fun."

"No, I'm going to get that painting—and I'm about to succeed, isn't it, a godsend." Lester broke away from his arm, speaking softly, his eyes were surprisingly bright.

"You're crazy." Victor complained helplessly.

Lester smiled sincerely: "I sincerely invite you to be crazy with me, Mr. Strauss."

……

Victor's judgment is obviously accurate and credible. Robert and the others are a group of young drug addicts who apparently took a large amount of hallucinogenic drugs regardless of their own health. The corpse of a cocker spaniel that had just been buried, and it was desperately beating the ground like a madman—everyone was laughing wildly, a group of demons danced wildly, and Lester even saw a few scantily clad girls smirking and splashing blood on their faces Stuffed in the mouth, it is simply disgusting.

Jack punched Robert down, and the tall and strong young man quickly got up and wrestled with him.

The stiff body of the Cocker Spaniel fell on the concrete floor—Ruth could hardly speak from crying, Old Turner staggered over and picked it up, and the young men kicked it as if they had gotten a better toy. Kicked him to the ground, then surrounded him with a smile.

"Hey, old man, can't tell the dog is still your baby--oh, it stinks, Bob, do you smell it?"

"Of course, if you ask me, this smells a hundred times worse than Daisy's panties!"

"Ha, have you heard it?"

"That slut, everyone has slept in her bed." A young man with a picture of big smoke and silver earrings on his ears went to the corner and picked up a piece of red brick left over from the wall. In his hand—the weight is probably right, he grinned with a satisfied smile, "Let go, old man, or I'll let you taste this!"

Old Turner hugged his dog tightly, and spat at him with cold eyes: "Come if you can, you little bastard!"

"Damn it, don't eat the toast—fuck, hand in hand! Tessie, help me!"

Suddenly the young man screamed miserably, Victor grabbed his wrist firmly and twisted it together - it looked like it was about to break, the young boy was out of breath After he took a breath, his face was covered with poor-quality foundation, but his companion took two steps back timidly—Victor held a gun in the other hand—these ghosts money man.

Lester helped Old Turner up, he was still trembling—not because of fear, but because of the anger that filled his body, he raised his slightly cloudy silver-gray eyes, and shouted angrily: " Ruth, call the police!"

"No! Stop her!"

Old Turner's words seemed to have touched some mechanism. Robert kicked Jack like a lunatic and ran over. His speed was so fast that he grabbed Ruth's hair and was about to press it to the ground. Jack grabbed his feet from behind—the two fell hard to the ground.

A girl in a black gothic skirt rushed over and slapped Ruth desperately in the face. Victor raised his hand: "Do you want to save her? Hey, it looks really miserable."

Lester stared at Old Turner expressionlessly: "What do you think, sir?"

The old man's eyes looked desperate and collapsed, and his voice was extremely hoarse: "She is your friend."

"No, to be precise, rival in love." Lester smirked.

Old Turner almost looked like he was going to cry. He put down his dog, and without looking at Lester, he tried to run and save Ruth—but more young men beat him down—they were really afraid of Lester. But it does not mean that such an old bone with loose bones can also crawl on their heads.

"Stubborn," Lester grumbled coldly, and then said loudly, "Let them go, or I'll shoot!"

Everyone's movements stopped, and Robert was pressed under Jack, struggling and shouting: "He dare not! This is illegal!"

"boom--"

"You're wrong, sir. I was in self-defense."

Lester looked at the dumbfounded Robert indifferently—his leg was filled with blood, and the red color was like a basin of cold water pouring over his head, waking up these young people who were intoxicated in hallucinations and violence, and they ran away screaming. Only their leader hugged his leg and screamed and cried like a woman.

Lester looked at Ruth, who was also frightened, with gentle and peaceful eyes: "Now, call an ambulance. I guess this gentleman needs some professional treatment. Then he will be in prison for assaulting young entrepreneurs Have a not-so-great summer—or longer."

"It sounds like you owe me another favor, boy." Victor put away his gun and reminded lazily.