[Titanic] Ticket

It was the busiest Christmas Leicester had had in living memory.

He was holding a bottle of wine, sitting foolishly on the sofa, Carl and Catherine were arm in arm and dancing a kind of brisk Scottish dance, Victor was playing the organ - it's hard to imagine that he still has this skill, everyone They are all happy, and people usually like to use words like "ocean of joy" to describe such a scene.

Lester tapped his feet unconsciously, and he felt a little dizzy, so that those scattered and well-hidden things rolled into his mind bit by bit.

Susan's crying.

Dupin Rolland's sneering face.

The endless abuse and humiliation of his brothers and sisters.

The unchanging scenery under the subway, the pale faces on both sides of the railroad tracks retreating rapidly.

This used to be all he had for Christmas, and it sounded pathetic enough to write another Les Miserables.

Someone sat down next to him, the sofa was sunken by a large piece, the body leaned over, the skin under the shirt was hot, and the breath was clean—it was Karl.

Carl took him into his arms, and they were so close together as if they had never been apart, and it felt so good that Lester's soul floating in mid-air slowly returned to where it should be, Frowning, the young capitalist snatched the golden bottle of champagne from his palm and whispered, "You've had too much."

Lester laughed, his lips parted to reveal a set of brilliant teeth, his pretty face was now irreparably sillier, and Carl's look softened enough that he bent down and kissed the young flushed out of the corners of his eyes, muttering: "...the timing is wrong...boy, you're going to make me hard..."

"Carl..." Lester called him in a low voice.

"What?" Carl leaned down, feeling his ears being sucked into two moist and hot lips, which made him swallow unconsciously, and even suspected that the sound was loud enough to overshadow Strauss' organ .

Lester sighed, he was not sure about his original thought of speaking, but the loud music and cheerful laughter seemed to cast a heavy curtain on everything, Lester could clearly hear his own heartbeat, it came from the bone marrow and There was a bang between the muscles, and it loudly shouted in spite of everyone's will: "Today is a good day to confess!"

"No, it's not—I made up my mind not to tell anyone." Lester retorted calmly. He felt that his tone was firm. In fact, if someone really stood in the shadow of his thoughts, he might not Tell him mercilessly that he is all about uncertainty, like a swinging pendulum or someone with one foot on the edge of a cliff.

"Oh, just admit it, you're going crazy. You've also sworn to be a sincere person-although it may only appear on your elementary school essay paper proposition, you shouldn't hide anything, Look at Carl, he's got nothing to confess to you now." The voice babbled at him, it was so eager to reveal everything, and was slammed to the ground - a long overdue slap Or an old punch or something.

Lester thought masochistically, it's hard to tell if he has suffered from some kind of hidden mental illness for a long time, he has been used to pushing himself to a desperate situation-to be honest, sometimes it can be said that he never tires of it.

"Say something." Carl said, his light-colored eyes looked directly at Lester, which made the latter clearly feel that he had seen through everything. After all, you also know that he is a big businessman, and he is good at observing It's the same process as finding fault, but his eyes are unexpectedly tolerant, "If you are not ready, then just say 'I love you'."

"Thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty Hockley." Lester groaned against his forehead, but Karl could feel him visibly relaxing himself, which probably meant that he decided to speak a long—maybe Some or all of those were stories he didn't really like to hear—rather than picking a love language, he felt a tinge of regret, to be honest.

"... where do I start. Well, Titanic, yes, where we both started, I'm sure I remember every detail, including your moping about not getting Miss Bucket's favor. said Lester.

Carl glanced at him: "Now she's a poor Dawson, and she has nothing to do with Hockley. From the moment we met, don't be distracted, boy."

"From the first encounter. When I opened my eyes—that's what you think, when my soul opened its eyes in this body, and God sent me a giant Easter egg. I'm on the Titanic, don't No choice," said Lester, after a pause, "the only possessions I had were an old jacket, a violin, and a ticket that broke me—yes, I knew the ship would sink, two or three God, or sooner, but the worse thing is that I'm only a third class, and God, self-rescue sounds like a luxury, doesn't it. Tell me what you think."

"...then you met me," Carl said, turning Lester's face around to make sure their eyes met so that every detail of that bright gray wouldn't be missed, "a Premeditated—you know about me, about my relationship with Bucket, even—with Dawson," he pointed sharply, in a rather calm voice.

"This may be the most hated part of the 'Lester Roland Survival Documentary'." The young man took a deep breath and paused every word, "Yes, I know you, Bucket, and even Jack— —Okay Dawson, please don't give me such a goddamn detail. I know you all from a movie, my mother loved it, think of housewives watching soap operas— I’m sorry you haven’t read this yet, have you replayed it no less than ten times, and I’ve seen it once or twice, so I have an impression of you.”

"...It sounds like I won't have a likable role in it." Carl twitched the corner of his mouth, speaking insincerely, Lester held his hand, and he squeezed it tightly in a way that would not kill him. Let go of the posture and continue, "I'm fine, they're just filming a part of my life, nothing can deny my existence."

They kissed, and sometimes you really can't imagine the charm of this young capitalist, his almost conceited self-confidence can seem really sexy on certain occasions.

"You will know later. I used you - originally you should be the only one among the three of you who survived, oh, and Mrs. Bucket." Lester sneered, "Okay, ask questions The key point, is there anything I can do for you, Your Majesty?"

"Where are you from? Or when?"

"2012, New York."

"real name?"

"Well, God opened a personal order for me. I used to be better-looking-don't stare at me, my mother is the number one in the red-light district, and the men who want to get her can line up three blocks away."

"One last question." Carl said, he inserted five fingers densely into the gap in the young man's right hand, "...will you leave?"

"No. If I leave, it must be at the time of death." Lester responded gently, with a solemn expression, just like answering those three words in church, but in fact, there is no difference fundamentally, since They'll probably never get married, and they'll never be able to say "I do" out loud to each other in front of hundreds of people.

"Talk about your past." Carl felt the fatigue and soreness left after the adrenaline had receded rapidly, so he lay down on his side obediently, with his legs crossed, his hands resting on the young man's head, posing The expression of prodding a long conversation.

Lester smiled happily. He was very relaxed. After all, he couldn't be unhappy after pouring out everything and getting a better response than expected: "That's not a story worth hearing. My mother A red-light district hooker, my dad was a real estate agent - the kind in NYC that would occasionally have lunch with a senator or something. Big difference - I'm a real one-night stand product, they didn't even want it Me, but you know, it's unpredictable, I was born. Whores with children are always not a good market, even if Susan is beautiful enough, she raised me until I was 16 years old, somehow gave me food and clothing, and then Send me to Roland's doorstep and leave me to fend for myself, Dupin Roland has a son, but he's a backpacker for good dreams - he was in the Alps when I came home at 16, I heard later When I came to the East, he knew that I had such a talent for business, so he took me in. After another ten years, I will be here."

Carl hugged him: "You now have me, Catherine, or my father, and your friends."

Yes, I know, no one knows this better than me, Lester thought vaguely.

He used to look for an exit, a person who could be comforted in a long time, but not Susan, not Dupin Roland, not the men and women he met in the feasting, so that he buried his young self hiding in the room crying Under the champagne, money and lies, Lester spent countless nights cursing God's injustice, but in fact he may also have a good mood because of the holiday, you see, he gave Lester a happy ending, Les Te gave Carl, Jack, and Rose an equally good one, which sounds like a bloody truth!

"I'm with you! God can't separate us!" Lester smiled foolishly, leaned up to kiss him, and the mistletoe spread green on their heads, every leaf was full of snickering and joy .