TITANIC ~ A Yoonmin Story

Gulf Between Worlds

Yoongi and Hoseok burst through a door onto the aft well deck. They run across the deck and up the steel stairs to the poop deck. They get to the rail and Yoongi starts to yell and wave to the crowd on the dock.

"You know somebody?" Hoseok asks.

"Of course not. That's not the point." Yoongi turns back to look at the large crowd below, leaning over the rail a bit more. "Goodbye! Goodbye!! I'll miss you!"

Grinning, Hoseok joins in, adding his voice to the swell of voices, feeling the exhilaration of the moment. "Goodbye! I will never forget you!"

The crowd of cheering well-wishers wave heartily as the black wall of metal moves past them. Impossibly tiny figures wave back from the ship's rails.  Titanic gathers speed. The bow wave spreads before the mighty plow of the liner's hull as it moves down the river toward the channel. 

゛・。☆。・゛★゛・。☆。・゛★゛・。☆。・゛★゛・。☆。・゛★゛・。

Yoongi and Hoseok walk down a narrow corridor with doors  lining both sides like a college dorm. Total confusion as people argue over luggage in several languages, or wander in confusion in the labyrinth. They pass foreigners studying the signs over the doors, and looking up the words in phrase books. 

The boys finally find their berth. It is a modest cubicle, painted enamel white, with four bunks. Exposed pipes overhead. The other two guys are already there. Kim Seokjin and Jeon Jungkook. 

Yoongi throws his kit on the open bunk, while Hoseok takes the other. 

"Where is Taehyung and his wife?" Jungkook asks but receives no reply. 

゛・。☆。・゛★゛・。☆。・゛★゛・。☆。・゛★゛・。☆。・゛★゛・。

By contrast, the so-called 'Millionaire Suite' is in the Empire style, and comprises two bedrooms, a bath, WC, wardrobe room, and a large sitting room. In addition there is a private fifty foot promenade deck outside. 

A room service waiter pours champagne into a tulip glass of orange juice and hands the the Bucks Fizz to Jimin. He is looking through his new paintings. There is a Monet of water lilies, a Degas of dancers, and a few abstract works. They are all unknown paintings... lost works. 

Pilwoo is out on the covered deck, which has potted trees and vines on trellises, talking through the doorway to Jimin in the sitting room. 

"Those mud puddles were certainly a waste of money."

Jimin holds up a cubist portrait and stares at it intently. "You're wrong. They're fascinating. Like in a dream... there's truth without logic. What's his name again...?" Jimin squints his eyes to read off of the canvas. "Picasso."

Pilwoo wanders into the sitting room to join his son. "He'll never mount to a thing, trust me. At least they were cheap." 

A porter wheels Pilwoo's private safe into the room on a hand-truck.

"Put that in the wardrobe." Pilwoo points. 

Jimin stands up and heads over to the bedroom with the large Degas of the dancers. He sets it on the dresser, near the canopy bed. Jimin's mother is already in there, hanging up some of Jimin's clothes.

"It smells so brand new." Mijeong says. "Like they built it all just for us. I mean... just to think that tonight, when I crawl between the sheets, I'll be the first."