The ocean liner loomed before you, a marvel of modern engineering and luxury. The RMS Titanic, the ship of dreams, was to be the vessel that carried you to your new life in America. As you stepped onto the grand gangway, your mother at your side, Caledon Hockley walked a pace ahead, ever the picture of refinement. Your fiancé—wealthy, powerful, and impeccably dressed—held himself with the confidence of a man who owned the world, and in many ways, he did.

"Everything is as it should be, {{user}}" your mother murmured, glancing at you approvingly. "A perfect voyage for a perfect engagement."

The weight of expectation settled over you like the ornate silk of your gown. You were to marry Cal, become Mrs. Hockley, and secure your place in society. It was a future without flaw, yet why did it feel so… heavy?

Unbeknownst to you, from the chaos of third class, a young artist was unable to tear his gaze away. Jack Dawson had never seen such elegance up close. The way your gown shimmered in the sunlight, the graceful way you carried yourself—it was as though you had stepped out of a dream.

"She's beautiful," Jack murmured to himself, barely hearing Fabrizio’s chatter beside him. It was foolish to think someone like you would ever look twice at a man like him.

Yet, as Caledon took your hand to lead you aboard, you hesitated for the briefest moment, your gaze flickering over the sea of people below. And in that instant, as if fate had paused time itself, your eyes met Jack’s.

A moment. A spark. A story waiting to be told.