Who: Rose & Jack What: Showing her around, Jack tells her a story about two people on a damn boat. When: Recent~ Where: Beach area, PLACES. Rating/Warnings: Relatively low Status: Complete!
Visiting Florida once had gotten him hooked on Cuban sandwiches. They were cheap, anyway, no crazy extravagant gourmet ingredient was expensively purchased when making these. The bread was the main thing, uniquely made. But anyway, this food truck was one he hunted down on a constant basis because they made it the best, along with a few other Latin delicacies. He’d taken Rose there, as promised from their original conversation, even had a few bucs to spare to buy it for her because, uh, reasons. And Jack had some cash flow coming in with his odd jobs and art so he wasn’t entirely walking around with metaphorical holes in his pockets.
Literal ones, though…
“So, art history, huh?” He asked after a mouthful, chewing and swallowing, a little messy with the crumbs on his face but he used his sleeve to wipe his mouth. The parallel was kind of funny; she had loved his art, in the dreams. Even to the point where she asked him to draw her like ‘one of his French girls.’ “You always been a fan? You know, I always hear some families giving people crap about a career in anything art - there’s a reason why the whole ‘starving artist’ stereotype exists, but…” Another bite, a chew, swallow, a shrug. “Whatever makes you happy, you know?”
He’d only mention it because he knew Rose’s mother. On the Titanic, anyway, and she was kind of a bitch. Always looked at him like he was some dirty street rat she wanted to smash with those pointy shoes of her. Which was probably what the exact sentiment was.
Rose couldn’t believe how easy talking to Jack felt. She had only just met him, and already talking to him felt more natural than talking with most of the people she had known back home.
“This is quite good,” she said in reference to the sandwich, and she took another polite bite. “I have always been a fan of art. There aren’t very many mediums that allow you to see the world through someone else’s eyes. My mother certainly doesn’t approve.” Or at least, wouldn’t have approved if Rose had told her her plans beforehand. Her mother and Cal, had, of course, planned out the rest of Rose’s life. Go to some expensive University somewhere until she started pumping out little Hockley’s, and then stay at home to keep house. Not that there would be much housekeeping to do, as they would undoubtedly pay someone to do all of that work for them. “But I believe I’m capable of making my own decisions. What about you, Jack? Does your family approve of your travelling around the countryside, selling art?”
Jack wasn’t sure what to expect when it came to, uh, meeting Rose here, but the parallels? The parallels caused him to smile, fondly, but he’d done it while staring at his sandwich, otherwise it’d be weird if he’d been staring at her. Maybe she would dream, maybe he wouldn’t - he wasn’t sure. Coincidences didn’t exist anymore to him. Just fate, and fate was a damn joker.
She still had her mannerisms, that air of sophistication with the undercurrent of I want to scream. And a disapproving mother, apparently. Some things don’t change, do they? “Well, you’re here despite everything, aren’t you? So that’s something. Good for you.”
Rose had been unhappy, when he met her. So to know that she was trying to tear away from that traditional mold her family had attempted to impose on her - he was actually a little proud. “Don’t really got one. Was in the foster system for awhile, but…” A piece of the sandwich was torn off as he shrugged, then he just popped it in his mouth. “Ain’t got nobody to answer to, which is nice. I might not live the life most people would, but I’m actually happy. And there’s not a lot of people who can genuinely say that, I think.”
She was here. And that was something. Though, it hadn’t been as though she had done anything as difficult as standing up to her mother to get her way. She wrestled with the idea of telling Jack that she had more or less just run away, and listened to him talk about his family - or lack thereof. She very briefly, felt sorry for his growing up in the foster system, but he did seem genuinely happy, and that was more important. She may have grown up with her family, but she had never been genuinely happy with her life. Not like Jack claimed. “No, there’s not a lot of people who can, I suspect. You’ll have to tell me your secret.” The second sentence had just slipped out, and she worried that she would seem like a bit of a wet blanket. Though, Jack didn’t seem like the type of man who would be too put out. “May I be completely honest with you, Jack?”
Did he have a secret? Maybe. Or maybe he was just lucky. All he needed were the clothes on his back and a sketchbook, and he was set. There was no way in hell Jack would let life just slip through his fingers - he’s had many experiences that he wouldn’t trade for the world, and those memories were better than any materialistic thing money could buy.
That was an awfully familiar question, and his chew lessened to a slower pace. “Go for it,” he shrugged. Weather on this side of the states was beautiful - hot but no humidity, clear blue skies and the sea right before them, vast and breathtaking. She wanted cheap entertainment and this was it for him; the ocean’s freedom. “No judging either, promise. I used to sleep under bridges and look for food in trash. I’m the one that might need some judgement.”
"Food from the trash?" Rose exclaimed. "I don't think I could ever do anything like that." As disgusting as it was, it did make her even more interested in the man who was walking beside her though. He wasn't much older than she was, and he had seen and done so much. "When I moved out here for school, I didn't actually tell anyone. Not my mother, not my...." She stopped herself before she said 'fiance.' "My friends. I just... Packed my bags and disappeared into the sunset."
Jack let out a looooooooow whistle, but there was definitely no judgment - not even an ounce, just a look that hinted that he was both impressed and...proud. “You little runaway,” he chuckled. “I mean, sorry, it’s not funny.” Really, it wasn’t, so he inhaled through his nose to get a little more serious, but all he could think of was the sour look on her mother’s face, like she’d swallowed a spiked lemon. “You--well. Sometimes, you gotta do what’s best for you. And if that involves picking up and leaving, then it is what it is. Do you regret it? Leaving?”
Rose gave Jack a small smile when he chuckled. “I don’t regret it at all,” she said. “At least, not yet. Maybe I will someday. But back home, all I could see was my entire life already planned out for me, and it wasn’t the life that I wanted for myself.” When she looked back at the idea of spending the rest of her days with Cal, it made her feel a little ill. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’m sure my mother’s worried sick.” Whether it was for Rose herself, or for her precious reputation, Rose couldn’t say. “I’ll call her in a while. Once I’ve established myself a little more here.” It wasn’t a call that Rose was looking forward to making.
There was a bench with a perfect beach view coming up, and what a coincidence - it was also empty. Time to occupy it, then, and he led Rose, their feet walking on grass mixed with beige sand and tiny colored seashells. “You’d have regretted it more if you stayed, I think,” Jack said, the sandwich fully devoured and used the napkin originally confined in for his hands.
Time for dessert, which meant he fished for the squashed cardboard box and slipped out paper-wrapped nicotine. “I mean, you either...stay, and live the life someone else wanted you to live, and wonder what could have been. Or...you go out, take a couple risks, make a lot of mistakes, and eventually figure things out for your own. Only way you will know. You’re doing better than most, I’ll give ya that.” With the cigarette trapped between his lips, he flicked on the flame and lit it. A couple of puffs, and it was fully ignited. “You’re gonna make it.”
"I think you're right," Rose said. She would have regretted it if she had stayed. She would have been stuck in a life, filled with people she could barely stand, talking about frivolous things she could never bring herself to care about. She had already met so many amazing people in the Orange County, Jack foremost amongst them. "I think if there was anywhere where I can test my mettle, it's here."
"May I?" She asked, holding out a hand for a cigarette. She had started smoking a few years ago, mostly to annoy her mother. She didn't smoke often, but on nice days like this, it was certainly nice.
Hey, if the lady wanted a smoke, who was he to deny? “Test your mettle,” Jack repeated, the chuckle muffled only a bit by the cigarette in his mouth. “That’s a way to put it.” A single one was pulled out, and he’d light it for her too. “This place will test something, alright.”
Like your sanity, for starters, and he didn’t really know how to break it to Rose that she might dream of the early 1990s. With the same controlling mother and an equally (or more so) controlling dickbag of a fiance, and they all climb onto an unsinkable boat from Ireland that is, historically, destined to sink in the glacial waters of the Atlantic ocean.
Oh, and that they were a thing.
“You, uh…” How to word this without sounding weird as fuck? Probably didn’t exist when discussing matters of this sort, so he’d bite the bullet. “Get any weird dreams lately?”
Rose leaned forward to let Jack light her smoke for her, and then leaned back, somehow managing to look lady-like even with doing something decidedly unlady-like like smoking.
When Jack asked his question, Rose looked at him, eyebrows raised, and looking just a little bit amused. “Weird dreams?” she asked. “Well, that’s certainly not a question I’d expect when first meeting someone.” Then again, they had been talking, and about some personal things, for quite some time already, and she felt as though she knew him. “I can’t say I’ve dreamed anything out of the ordinary.”
Maybe it was too soon. Hell, he didn’t know if she would, but most people did, and if luck brought her to him, luck would also make her remember this...other life. “My dreams have been telling a story lately,” Jack began, steely gaze pointed over to the ocean. Foamy waves, the sound of seagulls - and just an endless blue. He remembered the sunset, having her close her eyes and stretch her arms out - it was the night of their first kiss.
The night everything went to hell.
“I’m on a boat. A big one. An unsinkable one, or so they say.” That was debatable - they’d practically rammed into the iceberg, they were on the deck to witness it. Ice, everywhere. Coldness bit at them. Everyone had that look of dread, color draining from their faces. “And there’s a girl there. And she’s so goddamn miserable with life, she tries to jump off the boat and kill herself. And in the dream, we’re in the Atlantic, and it’s getting cold - it would have hit her like a thousand knives, over and over. But she doesn’t. And eventually makes the decision to let go of everything that made her feel like her life was over.”
Rose took a drag from her cigarette, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ears. She could almost relate to the girl in Jack’s dreams. There had been a time that Rose had contemplated taking her own life, before realizing that there were other, less drastic ways to escape Cal and her mother. She was utterly captivated by Jack’s story.
“Well, I certainly hope that they didn’t jinx the ship by claiming it was unsinkable. Please, go on.”
“It’s a story that’s still telling itself,” he said, offering an eye-crinkling grin. “When I mentioned the whole dream thing, it’s…” Jack sucked in a deep breath. “It’s because dreaming of some...story, that continues on and on every night when you go to bed, it’s not the most uncommon thing around.” It’s why Valarnet existed, right? A group of very different people dreaming very different things. It was all real, like flesh and bone. He’d almost lost Katou twice because of it. “Sometimes people share the same story.”
Like he did, with Rose. What he dreamed, that entire trip on the Titanic, it was their tale. It wasn’t perfect. Disaster was in the horizon and even before that, shit had been tough with her.
But he’d be there. Just like he was in those dreams, he’d do it again here in a heartbeat, no questions asked. And it had nothing to do with the fact that they’d been involved. Those dreams and that journey was something strictly unique to them - it was theirs to share, their burdens to carry.
His elbow knocked into hers lightly. “So don’t be surprised if you become one of us.”
Rose bit back the smile that threatened to cross her lips when Jack’s elbow touched hers, because really, she had just left her fiance and she shouldn’t be this pleased with a little physical contact from the first incredibly cute boy she met. She couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at Jack’s dream explanation though.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “That just sounds so… like something from a novel. Shared dream stories? Are you serious?” He had seemed genuine at least, and she had certainly seen a lot of people discussing their dreams on Valarnet. But it was a little hard to swallow.
Okay, yeah, he had to laugh. Because it did sound really fucking ridiculous, but it was true nonetheless. Didn’t make sense, there wasn’t any feasible explanation except that there weren’t coincidences. To him, they officially stopped existing. Rose being here seemed to cement that for him.
“I’m really fucking serious,” he breathed between chuckles, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he thought about it - then shook his head. “Really serious. You probably think I’m nuts, but…” Another ear-to-ear grin, charming and boyish. “Cross my heart, darlin’, wouldn’t do you wrong.”
Jack quit lounging on the bench so much and straightened. “Tell you what, though - it might come to you. Probably a damn good chance, so when it does? I’ll have to treat you for your initiation.” And maybe one day he’d take her to Santa Monica, the horse riding on the beach - the things they said they’d do, and he didn’t know if they’d get a chance to, in these dreams.
Rose’s heart seemed to skip a beat with the smile, and the ‘darlin’,’ (which was much, much more endearing than when Cal said it). A light blush rose to her cheeks, and tried for a couple of seconds to suppress her smile before she gave up. “I will hold you to that, Jack,” she said. “You will be the first person I call if I have any strange, story like dreams.”
Damn, a look like that turned him into fucking mush, here and there. Cigarette finished, the rest put out by smothering it with his feet, Jack stood and offered her a hand. “Sounds like a plan. Now up you go - the day ain’t over just yet, missy.” There were still plenty things to show her, plenty of things to do that didn’t involve much monetary cost - and that was the point, wasn’t it? Teach the college student to live frugally, and he was the best man to do it.