The Heart of the Ocean (DNB)

The Anxious and The Confident

Note about the song I used here, the original song (La Vie en Rose) came out in 1947 and not 1912, but the English version of the song had been stuck in my head when I wrote this, so I added it.

TW/CW: consumption of alcohol/tobacco, transphobic comment(?), anxiety attacks, mentions of suicide

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DeWitt Craft:

⠀⠀⠀Why was this ship unsinkable? Why couldn't literally anything interrupt what was about to happen?

⠀⠀⠀The maid tightened the corset impossibly tighter. Normally, Phil or Wilbur would either lace it up for him, or would sit around to talk to him, but they must've been doing something else. It's a good thing a desirable 'wife' is meant to be quiet, because Techno could be quiet forever at this point.

⠀⠀⠀"Are you almost ready, pet?" A female voice came from the door. Techno whipped his head to see his mother, Elizabeth DeWitt Bukater peeking inside. Her dark pink, almost brown hair was tied into an updo with her favourite comb, silver teeth with a bug wing design made out of glass that peeked over the waves of her hair. Her pale skin contrasted her burgundy dress. She didn't look old, even after (sort of) raising four children for the past twenty-four years.

⠀⠀⠀"Yes, I had some trouble at first with the new corset." The maid responded.

⠀⠀⠀His mother smiled as the maid left, having finished lacing up his waist's prison. His mother carried his afternoon dress in her arms, "I don't see the point of wearin' more than one dress in a day, couldn't I have worn the same dress as this mornin'?" Techno glared at his mother.

⠀⠀⠀"Heavens no!" She handed him the dress, "No good-minded lady would wear the same dress all day!"

⠀⠀⠀"But I used to wear the same shirt and pants all day when I was a teenager!" Techno complained. God, he sounded just like a child.

⠀⠀⠀"You aren't a teenager anymore, are you, though?" She gritted out, "You are a respectable person who is getting married to a rich man who only asks that you are quiet and cooperative."

⠀⠀⠀"I'm a man, mother!" He yelled, "Why can't you call me that! That's all I ask."

⠀⠀⠀She came close to his ear and pulled it towards her, "You speak to me like that again and you and your brothers can kiss your inheritance goodbye. I might as well write the Calverts into our will so that they can accept it, hm?" Techno's breathing shallowed and quickened, anxiety growing, and dread kept him in place, she pulled away, face softening, "Dee, this is what's best for you, your brothers, all of us."

⠀⠀⠀The name slapped him in the face, "Yes, mother."

⠀⠀⠀"I guess you really have grown up, I'm not 'mama' anymore." She frowned, "You should get dressed, our company is waiting." She left, leaving Techno alone with his thoughts.

⠀⠀⠀'Don't cry. Don't cry. You're fine.' Techno didn't need to sing, he didn't need to! People could hear him after all, and how pathetic would it be if someone were to walk in on him singing to comfort himself!

⠀⠀⠀He looks at himself in the full-length mirror in front of him. He's pale, well paler than usual, at least. God, he was pitiful. He snapped out of his trance and pulled the dress on. The satin was a sea green that exposed his back in the shape of a 'v'. On the front, lace followed the same shape, green material modestly covering his chest. The satin material stopped just past his shoulders, lace continuing down his arms, hugging them tightly and flaring out at the wrists. The skirt of the dress was purely made out of lace, a large design swirling down from his waist. At the sinch of his waist, he figured that the red sash that came with the dress was meant to go there. The sash had a large flower made of tulle that sat on his upper stomach. He decided to keep the same pair of shoes on.