[Titanic] Ticket

"I'm in love with her."

This was the first sentence Jack said after the two stood still in the silent corridor.

"...As expected." Lester leaned back against the cold iron sheet, feeling a deeper level of fatigue enveloped him.

He shouldn't have meddled in this, admit it, no one else, they were meant to be in love.

There were mocking whispers in the silence, and the cold laughter caused Lester's nerve endings to throb with pain.

Jack took a step forward with some concern: "Are you okay?"

"It's okay——" Lester waved his hand, "Tell me, Jack, are you serious?"

The boy laughed enthusiastically, his bright blue eyes were burning like shooting stars: "Of course! You will never find a cuter girl than her, I love her, it is inevitable! !"

"Actually, she's an aristocrat...Jack, you know what I mean, her mother is not to be trifled with, and even Karl—I mean Mr. Hockley keeps her at arm's length." Lester tried to persuade him, he Knowing it was mostly futile, but even actually tearing the lovers apart was nothing to him compared to the pain a best friend might experience.

Lester Rolland was not a nice guy.

Never.

Jack was still smiling, his eyes were firm and steady—but Lester keenly saw a kind of vicissitudes that did not belong to his age. For a moment, the big boy seemed to turn back the time in the corridor and turned into a The knight of the sword, fearless, resolute and resolute: "I love her, if her mother is willing, then we can live together. If Mrs. Bucket is not willing, I will not change my position for her. I love her—— Swear on my life."

"Exquisite, Mr. Dawson." Lester smiled awkwardly. He should have known that the protagonist is not a simple character. The life of wandering and wandering has given him too much training, and at the same time he has gained a lot. Something precious and interesting, Lester was silent for a long time before slowly opening his mouth, "I don't want to see Carl get hurt, but it seems inevitable at the moment. Jack, you are smart enough, you have to understand What a Hockley can do on this boat. You love her, but you don't necessarily get her."

Jack spread his hands: "Lester, where do you stand to say this? Karl's friend—or a hypocrite who flatters the powerful?"

Lester rubbed his hair, a little irritated: "You can understand. You just need to..."

"Get away from Ruth?" A woman's strange and sharp voice came from not far away, and Ruth walked over aggressively with her skirt on—she didn't even wear shoes—and her expression looked like she wanted to imitate Lai. A slap across the face.

"God, Ruth? I thought you should have returned to the warm bed in the first class!" Jack yelled and walked over to hug her, "God, you are cold as ice, put on my coat, You disobedient girl!"

"Thank you, Jack." Ruth held Jack's hand, her eyes were gentle and bright.

Carl is obsessed with her for a reason, and if she opens up to you, you've got a whole rose garden.

Lester took a step back and looked at them with complicated eyes. Look, it's all a hodgepodge. It's a pity that Karl is still talking about the boring economy with those gentlemen.

As I've mentioned before, Lester doesn't believe in love at all, but this pair of lovers are glued together and sweet, like no one in the world can stop them-not a good sign, at least for Carl. For Hockley, absolutely not.

"You——Lester Roland, I know you, you live in my fiancé's room, and he obviously values ​​you more than me!"

The girl folded her arms around her chest—this was a subconscious defensive action. Ruth Bukett was an outlier among the nobles, and she used the most violent means to protect herself—leave aside the damn crying and swearing, but Use sharp words to turn them into sharp swords that attack and annihilate, and pierce the enemy's heart.

Lester said dryly: "You're mistaken, Miss Buckett. Karl just—"

"Just what? Pity, sympathy? Mr. Roland, ask yourself, do you believe this?" Ruth curled up her lips, with a loose mocking smile on her face. Although she was rebellious, she was really smart and shrewd , she had already seen the essence of Carl, and this question was almost impossible for Lester to refute.

Lester clenched his fists, he felt the cold air rushing against his flesh and blood, and his headache was about to burst.

Ruth's mocking smile made him understand a fact.

Some things are destined to be good after all, and what he has done and hoped for is just a dream and a futile effort.

The black shadows at the end of the corridor suddenly swept over like a heavy French velvet curtain on the stage, and Lester felt himself being forced to back away, sinking, until he lay stiff in blood.

Someone sealed Dracula's coffin and celebrated his death.

……

Lester didn't know how he got back to the room—his own room, the glass was damp and thin, he was shivering with his arms around his shoulders, and his teeth were chattering from the cold.

This is not right, this is very wrong.

Lester thought sadly, he knew he had a problem, but there was nothing he could do, nothing at all.

He died, and now he's dying again.

He couldn't escape them—like the endless nightmares and shadows and screams that followed his mother's death.

A brandy, or a psychiatrist, whoever, someone to help him!

Lester closed his eyes tightly, not daring to sleep, but the pale, steaming ceiling made him despair.

"God, he has a fever! How do you think about him!" Carl climbed the stairs to and from the bed in an inelegant posture, with pity in his eyes and an angry expression, as if he could conjure a lightning bolt to destroy the world anytime and anywhere.

Ash shrank his neck, he dared to guarantee that if he said a wrong sentence at this moment, this rich man would eat him alive in a second!

But is it his fault?

Curse Satan, Lester was fine just now!

Lovejoy winked at Ash, and then said with concern: "Master, we must find a doctor for Lester, it may cause pneumonia."

Carl "hissed" gasped, God knows that word almost made his heart twist, he quickly picked up Lester and stuffed him into his coat, then hurried out of the room door towards the first-class cabin Go—he didn't think third class was going to offer what the doctor wanted—it's all about the damn place.

Fuck!

Lovejoy looked worriedly at Carl's back, then took out ten yuan from his pocket and stuffed it into Ash's hand: "Ask around, someone will know what happened just now."

……

The doctor was quickly called, prescribed medicine for Lester, gave some general advice, and walked away.

Carl thought that everything would be safe, but in the middle of the night, Lester began to cry without warning. He opened a pair of dull gray eyes, and let the tears flow down from the corners of his eyes like seawater bursting. He was not awake, curled up in the white sheets like a lifeless puppet.

"Fuck! Lovejoy, the doctor hasn't been found yet! How the hell did he see the disease!" Carl leaned on the bedside and hugged Lester tightly, wiping him all the time Cheeks—but it didn't help at all, the young man was still crying silently, and it seemed that all the water in his body was drained out through the lacrimal glands first.

"I brought him here, Doctor York, please forgive the young master's rudeness, he just cares about it and makes trouble."

Some elderly doctors looked at Carl and Lester who were embracing each other on the bed, and said softly: "I know, a couple—their relationship looks good."

Lovejoy touched his nose, a little unsure how to answer this sentence.

"Show him quickly!" Carl grabbed Dr. York - fortunately, his sanity hadn't run away from home, otherwise the old doctor would be dislocated by his ignorance.

Dr. York looked carefully at Lester's pupils by the light, took out the stethoscope and pressed it on his chest, frowning and said: "The situation is not very good. Mr. Roland has a serious mental problem. fantasies of death and fear—very likely—”

"I don't want to hear about that possibility! Fix him, now, right now!" Carl yelled petulantly, looking so out of control that Lovejoy had to clip his arm backwards to prevent the poor old doctor from being directly Beat to the grave.

Doctor York clasped his hands, and his gentle and wise eyes came through the lens: "I'm sorry, Mr. Hockley. I'm not good at this, I can only give you some suggestions. It seems that this is not the first time that Mr. Roland has appeared like this The problem, he has a medical history - I'm afraid that's not a fleeting, wonderful memory, and if he can't rely on himself, we have to rely on external forces."

Cal calmed down, he broke away from Lovejoy, and turned around twice: "Go on."

"Find his friends or relatives. You should understand that only these can give Mr. Roland a sense of security. You have to give him something warm—either words, or touching and kissing, so that he can fly away from the illusion."

Carl was silent for a moment before he said softly, "I see, Lovejoy, send the doctor out."

……

Carl turned off all the light sources in the room, and only placed a candle on the bedside table—the kind with aromatherapy, the cold fragrance wafting in the night makes people feel at ease.

He changed into soft and comfortable silk pajamas and lay down next to Lester, holding him in his arms and patting him lightly.

"He can see it." Carl seemed to smile, his light brown eyes were extremely gentle, "My father is right, a bystander can tell, but I'm not stupid, don't you think, Lester?"

"I didn't like you very much at first, bad boy. I knew the second I saw your eyes that you were a wily, worldly scum--that's never very nice, but you grew up You have a good-looking picture and know-how, which adds points to you. It just so happens that I am in a state of desperation about Ruth, and you can’t be more cunning in picking this time to appear.” Carl was still smiling, and he was in a good mood Extremely.

At the moment when he was most infatuated with Ruth, Lovejoy once poured cold water on him mercilessly: "Young master, love at first sight is the most unreliable thing in the world, how fast you fall in love, you can change your heart .”

How he answered at that time, oh, remember, he said: "This is absolutely impossible."

The arrogance of the Hockley family's endless life and galloping, ha!

But Karl didn't feel sad or anything else at all, he changed his mind - not because of anything else, but because he recognized the difference between obsession and love. He lost his temperature in an instant, but the latter was mellow fine wine, flowing moistly in his throat, making him warm and comfortable from the inside out.

"I don't love her, or my love for her can't compete with time." Carl realized clearly, and then understood the reason why Ruth resisted him so much, that smart girl had already seen his Nature and attitude—he needs a wife, a woman who can support the appearance, preferably beautiful and easy to handle.

It didn't have to be Ruth, it was just that she happened to have a face that Karl liked and a rebellious temper that was new to him.

Carl brushed the bangs on Lester's forehead—he stopped crying, and the rich man smiled softly: "Wake up, Lester, I still have something to say to you. Later we are How did you get acquainted, huh? Your empathy and deliberate pleasing? Anyway, as long as you want, no one will not like you, Lester."

The young man blinked his eyes slowly, as if he didn't like hearing this.

Carl lowered his eyelashes and looked at him intently: "I'm serious, boy. Think if I hadn't been on that deck in the first place, and given your friend a glass of brandy in a heartless fit, you might have thrown yourself into someone's arms - it must never Happened, Lester, I'm going crazy just thinking about it."

There was silence in the room, and Carl sighed after a long time: "I know you don't believe this, boy, your vigilance is thicker than the walls of the White House. I have to tell you, no matter what, you will never die --Never will."

This sentence was like a switch, Lester quickly closed his eyes, Carl kissed his forehead deeply, repeating this sentence over and over again until the candle light faded out.

……

When Ruth woke up, Mary came to inform her that Karl had prepared breakfast for her to enjoy on the terrace.

Ruth hadn't recovered from the exciting and exciting dance last night, and the mental excitement made her extremely tired. The word Cal Hockley sounded like a piece of dull black bread in her mouth, calling her Some instinctive discomfort and boredom.

She found a loose green lace dress from the box, tied up her hair casually, and followed Mary to the terrace.

Karl was half reclining in his chair, holding a book in his hand—he was engrossed in it, as serious as if he was dealing with some important matter of life and death.

Ruth was a little taken aback. She had never seen Carl read a book—he usually preferred newspapers—to gauge market prospects and get something to talk about, and Ruth was sick of it.

"You're reading, whose?"

Carl raised his head, the morning sun was bright enough, his full forehead was divided into distinct light and shadows - it was a more vivid scene than Jack's works.

Carl is handsome, just as handsome as Jack, Ruth thought quietly, turning sideways so that the maid could refill her coffee.

"Why didn't you come back last night? Half a piece of candy, I don't like sweet things." Carl frowned, put down his glass and refused to take another sip.

God damn rich!

Ruth lowered her eyes: "I'm so tired."

"Because of what? I was exhausted from dancing with a poor boy in the third class?" Carl smiled coldly, "Or did something else add to the fun?"

Ruth suddenly felt as stiff as a corpse, and Carl approached her face, caressing her plump cheeks with his fingers in the air: "Let me remind you, my dear Miss Buckett, you are still my fiancee now, Even those things that are not on the table, please restrain yourself, the reputation of the Hockley family is worth more than a thousand pieces of gold!"

Carl stood upright, the sun fell behind him from the zenith, and Ruth could see his eyes clearly—the transparent pupils made her think of some cold, terrible creatures, like poisonous snakes or something, she hugged Her shoulders began to tremble uncontrollably, she had never seen Karl in such a terrible way.

"The last sentence, don't offend Lester again, you won't want to know the consequences."

……

Carl returned to the room with "The Interpretation of Dreams" that belonged to Miss Ruth but was temporarily confiscated by him, and threw it on the sofa.

Curse Satan, he's had enough of Freud's shit about the soul, the dream world, it's more disturbing than the endless deficits in the reports.

"Okay, Lester, for you." Carl sighed, picked up the book and put it on the table, it's no big deal, he just needs more patience, more.

"Master, Lester is awake!" Lovejoy walked briskly out of the room. "I have to prepare something for him. There is fresh fish porridge in the kitchen, I guess."

"Prepare some for me too." Carl was overjoyed, and rushed into the bedroom without thinking.

Lovejoy smiled mildly and thoughtfully closed the door behind them.

"Lester, how do you feel? Is there any other discomfort?" Carl walked quickly to the bed, held the palm of the young man sticking out of the quilt, and asked worriedly.

Lester averted his eyes and tried to pull his hand away—obviously he failed: "Fine, just...a low-grade fever, it's not a big deal."

Carl hung his head and pressed his forehead unexpectedly: "I have to call Dr. York to show you again, it's not safe."

Lester was almost frightened. He stepped back suddenly, and his head hit the head of the bed without accident. He held his head and "hissed" inhaling: "God, Carl, it's all your fault."

"Forgive me." Carl apologized without sincerity, and stretched out his hand to gently press the back of his head for him. The texture of the blond hair under his palm was so good that Carl couldn't put it down.

Lester lowered his head, and after a while he said unwillingly: "Is there anything you want to ask me?"

"You know, Lester, my boy, you're smart enough." Carl meant something, with a malicious smile on his lips.

He was a veritable businessman, and he was a master of coercion, Lester made it all too obvious.

Like what, a lovely virgin?

For this wonderful assumption, Carl shrugged his shoulders and chuckled: "I won't force you, Lester. You belong to me after all, willingly."

Lester rolled his lips harshly: "What's this saying, huh? The damn self-confidence of rich people? I need to find an umbrella for myself. Some people's cowhide is almost blown out!"

The embarrassment and discomfort of just waking up dissipated, Lester touched his chest, he didn't know what to say, he didn't hate Carl, of course he didn't.

But it's too early to say love.

Carl Hockley is not profitable, and he is not the type who can fight for love. No one can say where they will go.

But it is undeniable that Carl's thoughtfulness and meticulousness made him feel warm, the feeling of being truly valued and taken to heart.

Carl and Lester had breakfast together, and the rich seemed to completely ignore the due worship and banquets, and kept lying on the bedside. Lester folded his hands and mocked: "Dear Mr. Hockley, you Would you like to tell me a goodnight story?"

"If you like. How about Freud?" Carl said provocatively, holding the book.

Lester rolled his eyes unbearably: "What the hell is that? Do you believe the nonsense made up by an old man who is full and has nothing to do?"

"No." Carl chuckled, "I thought artists always had unique tastes?"

"Obviously not including me." Lester looked bored, "I love money, power, and fine wine. I am a layman."

"Boy, don't say that. Everyone—at least most of them." Carlton paused, obviously thinking of his maverick fiancee. "Want to see the heart of the ocean? I bet You're going to love it."

Lester frowned: "Hello, I'm 21 years old Carl, not a baby who is babbling, don't call me a boy, I'm going to throw up, sweetie."

Carl avoided the important point and said lightly: "Put on a piece of clothing, and I will show it to you."

Lester just looked at this rare treasure in his hand—he had never seen a more beautiful diamond than this one, and most things in the world would be eclipsed by it, and the deep blue flowed between his fingers , so glamorous that it was almost compelling, Lester pinched his fingers white, and said softly: "This is the treasure that Mrs. Bucket asked to match her daughter?"

"In fact, it will never have a mistress." Carl smirked, "It will become one of the Hockley family's precious collections."

"No, Karl, no, it's ominous, you can't keep it. Think of Louis XIV and his hapless successors, it's a bloody diamond." Lester put the diamond back In the box, the heart of the ocean has long suffered a bad reputation. None of the several owners it has experienced before and after have come to a good end. It was also blamed for the sinking of the Titanic. Lester does not believe that a diamond can have such a good reputation. Magic power, but he does have fear.

Carl frowned: "I spent a lot of money to buy it, and I can't sink it in the sea."

"Isn't John Astor on board? No woman can refuse it, Karl, or are you going to keep it for the future Mrs. Hockley?" Lester raised his eyebrows, surprised at Karl's reaction—he It seemed that he really didn't care, as soon as he said it, he agreed...

For some reason, some subtle sweetness faintly appeared in Lester's throat.

Carl grumbled and complained: "You British people always like to think too much, come on, I'll talk to Astor in a while, you know how much I don't like him-a disgrace among the nobles. Seriously , you really don't want to—"

"No way! Don't even think about it! I'm not going to wear this thing like a woman so that I can strangle my fragile neck!" Lester yelled viciously, and his whole body seemed to be thrown from the bed. Jump up and bite him, "Cal Hockley, don't drive me crazy!"

……

Carl was in a good mood, and Lester insisted on going for a walk on the deck, oh, forget it, who can refuse the boy's little face of "I'm going to be bored to death, I'm going to be moldy, have mercy, take me out!" And the expression - he likes him more than he imagined.

But this good mood can only be maintained until he collides head-on with Ruth and his party.

"Oh God, Carl, are you coming to see the Titanic with us? That's so sweet, what do you think, Ruth?" Mrs. Bucket stepped forward enthusiastically, looking desperate for a kiss. A kiss was offered to show intimacy, but Carl politely refused-the reason was that he had to support Lester, who was recovering from a serious illness.

God, Lestat swears that Bucket looks like he's trying to drown him in the ocean.

"Mr. Andrews, your boat design is very good-I mean, unparalleled, amazing!" Lester said sincerely, acting like a big boy of his age, enthusiastic and pure All things are kept alive with curiosity.

Andrews responded mildly: "Thank you for your compliment, Mr. Roland. You look a little out of place?"