#zetta x adele series

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Epilogue: Underwater (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series)

As promised, here the epilogue of the Zetta x Adele Series, folks. 

This is the very end of a project that meant me quite a lot to me and got me through the last terrible year. Thanks to all those who supported it: hope you enjoyed it and will enjoy this ending.

In case you were wondering, this song inspired the whole series, particularly the last chapters:

I will skip the tag list for once since it’s pointless anyway. 

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15 , Ch. 16, Ch. 17

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Almost a century after the sinking of the RMS Titanic and to celebrate Canada becoming the first country outside Europe to legalise same-sex marriage, the Canadian Film Institute decided to work side by side with several LGBTQ+ organisations across the world to put together an exhibition focused on the early queer cinema and the many queer stars who were forced to hide their true selves in the Golden Age of cinematography, spanning from 1890s till the aftermath of Second World War. "A testament to the role the LGBTQ+ community played in the history of cinema and that we have always been here, even if people hardly saw us" as a journalist wrote on a queer magazine. After the recent discovery of some private documents, the curators were overjoyed to include an icon of the 1900s - 1910s cinema like Zetta Serda into the retrospective and cast a new light on her extraordinary career sadly soon forgotten after the advent of the sound era. Yet, the silent picture star was mentioned as a model and 'endless source of inspiration" by many queer movie stars like Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn, Greta Garbo all part of the retrospective. Rumor has it that as soon as she landed in America, Marlene Dietrich demanded his agent a meeting with Mrs King.

A curator drove all the way to Montreal to meet the last known heir, a certain Mrs. Julia Nowak, who greeted him on the threshold of a cosy downtown apartment. She offered him a coffee and a slice of a Polish sweet bread: the recipe was a family heirloom, she explained, beaming. She was in her late fifties, a therapist, she said. Her hazel eyes gleamed when she added, in a pleasantly soothing voice that betrayed a hint of excitement: "I must confess I am so incredibly happy that you contacted me about the retrospective. I adore the idea and I will make sure to attend it. Also" she nodded to a wedding picture hung to the wall "did you know that my wife is in politics? She campaigned for the legalisation...yes, Madeleine Fournier: see, you know her! We got married right after the law passed. If anything, your call and project made me twice as happy". She took a pause, smiling over her coffee in remembrance. "Anyway, back to the matter of your visit...yes, as far as I know, I am Zetta's last heir. As you probably know, my family wasn't officially related to her but she stated otherwise in her will". She moved to the couch and gestured the curator to follow her as she opened up one of the boxes and chests piled into the living room and picked out an old album, the leather cover worn at the edges. Dust waltzed in the air as she opened it with caution and gentle care. She showed him a slightly discoloured black and white picture of a young couple kissing for the camera in front of a church. Another wedding picture, from a different era. "Nana Hileni and Papa Maciej's wedding picture. I still remember them even if they both died when I was barely a teen...as if one couldn't bear to live without the other. Or so I like to think. She would help me with the homework, mathematics particularly, and he baked this bread for me till he was too weak to do so. He always claimed that he won Nana's heart with his pastries but she always denied it laughing". She passed another picture of the same couple proudly standing in front of the Nowak family bakery in Hoboken. "Frankly, I believe that Papa's broad shoulders and Marlon Brando smile are more likely to blame for this coup de foudre" she laughed. "And he knew how to deal with her no-nonsense attitude and vice versa. They...balanced each other, if you wish". She picked another picture and handed it to him. A woman was looking down in tender adoration and awe to a baby nestled in her arms looking up at her, outstretching a tiny arm in an attempt to touch her face. "There! This is Dad" she pointed at the baby before turning the picture where someone wrote 'Alex meets Auntie Adele'. Turning it again, she pointed at the woman. "This is Adele Carrem. Or Auntie Adele as I've always heard calling her. Nana's sister and Zetta's publicist and companion" Putting it back into the album, she carefully picked a bunch of other old pictures. "You surely know who this one is" she smiled, handing out the one on top. The photo was rather grainy but you could still recognise the same kid, slightly older, around two, sucking his thumb, cuddled up in Zetta's lap. The actress had aged a little but her features were unmistakable and it was endearing to see her sitting by the fireplace to read that kid with the sleepy face a bedtime story. "Sadly, I have never met them. I wish I did, oh you have no idea...but stories of them lived through in our family" Julia continued. "My Dad loved his Aunties - as he called them - dearly and by what I've heard and read, they loved him in manner as if he was their own. He knew little of them or Zetta's career back then...to him they were just the sweet ladies who would buy him ice-cream in Central Park or take him to see his favourite pictures over and over again at the movie theater. He said he will never forget the afternoons he used to spend with them in a Manhattan cafe that no longer exists around Christmas: Nana and Papa worked like crazy as the festive season approached and the glorious cup of hot chocolate with an elegant puff of cream on top with the Aunties became a tradition to him. He kept it alive somehow as he did the same with me". She handed the curator a bunch of other pictures: Zetta cleaning up Alex's face smeared with jam, the both of them laughing; Zetta posing with Maciej and her Dad at a table in the Hoboken bakery. He eventually mirrored her smile seeing a five years old Alex at the beach all engrossed in building a sandcastle with Hileni and Adele, and he standing at the water edge hand in hand with Miss Carrem, looking out into the distance. "These are family pictures. I'll show you the Zetta's private memorabilia we cherished". Julia searched a little, opening an old chest and handling every item inside with tender care. When she found what she was looking for, she showed the curator an elegant set of smaller boxes containing letters, dried flowers and photos. "I have already received an offer to get these published. I'm still pondering it. Before agreeing, I want to consider throughly if this is a thing they would have wanted, even if they're no longer here" The curator nodded as she kept searching. He skimmed a few letters and smiled as his eyes fall on the photos hidden away in those boxes: the two women sitting together and chatting at Hileni's wedding, Zetta's reading a script, lazily sprawled on a chaise long in her apartment. Some had short lines handwritten on the back, like a promotional picture with "Missing you" written by Zetta herself. The curator showed another to Mrs Nowak: a visibly excited Miss Carrem proudly showing to the camera a document announcing her voter registration. On the back, in Zetta's penmanship: "On the way to vote...my sweet Adele won!". "Oh you didn't know? Auntie Adele was a suffragette! I couldn't believe it when I first heard it! Nana told me that she was in and out jail when they lived in London because of protests. You know, like those suffragettes you read about in history books but less famous. Yet she fought for women's rights and kept fighting for them even in America. She was quite disappointed though by some major decisions of some feminist movements and eventually joined a socialist Union 'more rightfully welcoming working class individuals, immigrants and black brothers and sisters'. It's all in those letters but yeah, you couldn't possibly know. So little is known about her outside family". A little smile drew on her face as she put back the photo. "That photo was taken the day of the first election open to women. I checked the date. I suppose Zetta wanted to immortalise the moment...it was sweet of her, huh? Auntie Adele must have been so proud and overjoyed that day! You know, my Dad was born in 1920 when women's right to vote was legalised nationally and Nana once told me that Auntie commented the lucky coincidence saying she was incredibly happy her nephew would get to live in a fairer world. She was a true force of nature...she never talked much of the sinking of the Titanic just like Zetta and Nana actually but when one day Dad asked...he was barely a child and probably found an old article about the tragedy...Auntie Adele minimised but Nana assured him that her sister saved her life that night, risking her own to go down to the belly of the sinking ship to bring her to safety. Auntie simply shrugged, saying that it was what sisters do and that they made it to the lifeboats only thanks to Zetta, who shouted protests to stubborn officers and eventually found them a spot on a boat. I cannot even bring myself to imagine how scary that must have been: I cried so much when Madeleine took me to see Leo and Kate...to think they were there and it was all real!" She picked a few other objects out the box: a Shakespeare Sonnets book in a leather cover with golden engravings, with a little handwritten dedication 'To Adele, my sonnet 116. Happy birthday! With all my love, Zetta'; old scripts with annotations, a framed photograph of Adele and Zetta slow dancing barefoot in the living room of a gorgeous Long Island mansion. "These have a sentimental value" Mrs Nowak noted, her voice betraying the flicker of emotions as she picked it up. She took a deep sigh and continued. "I remember the day I told Dad I was gay as it was yesterday. We had always been quite close so it came natural to tell him first. We were in his car, he had come straight from college to pick me up at ice-skating practice. I..I dropped it in the middle of a conversation, bracing myself for the worst. I heard so many bad stories about coming out to your parents I was terrified of the consequences but I couldn't hide it anymore. I mean, yes, in public: bullies get even nastier if they know and I didn't want people shouting me "dyke" at school. But I needed to get it out of my chest...with someone at least. He kept quiet for a moment and I felt like drowning in shame. But then he spoke". A nostalgic tender smile formed Julia's lips. "He said he had two amazing Aunties that contributed to make his life a wondrous adventure. It was thanks to them that he, the son of a baker, could attend a prestigious college, for instance: they offered to pay for it without asking a penny back. They also helped him write his first romantic letter to his childhood sweetheart and consoled him when the little girl turned him down. But his Aunties had a secret, he added. He said: to my kid eyes they were no less a couple than Mom and Dad and at home we all treated them in manner but one day Mom made me promise to behave differently when we were in public. In public I would refer to her sister as 'Auntie Adele' but call Zetta by her name. He didn't get it and it took some getting used to. He soon noticed that even the Aunties behaved a bit differently out in the sun: they wouldn't hold hands or use endearing words in the street or when other people were around. They simply behaved like good friends did. He understood it later when he, as stubborn as a mule, asked them directly". Julia gently grazed her fingers on the glass of the framed photograph, caressing it. "And they told me everything, he said. That they were in love, just like mom and dad were, but people out there could be uncomfortable and extremely rude to women loving other women and men loving other men. That they kept their companionship a secret in public because those people had no problems with women being friends and they didn't want to have bad words or worse happening to them. I remember asking him what he thought about it. He smiled. 'I cried. Since Auntie Zetta mentioned people claiming that women like them were sick and would burn in hell, I actually started crying. I sobbed desperately in her arms, crying that I didn't want them to burn in hell, I loved my Aunties and I was happy they loved each other. Eventually they explained me it was just a vile lie spread my malignant people. But I got quite a scare and kept staring at them with puffy red eyes and my face wet with tears for a while. It required lots of cuddling to bring a smile back on my face'. He shook his head, laughing of his endearing naivety. Then he pulled over and looked at me. He continued: 'I still don't get why people keep spreading those mean lies but I know for sure that my Aunties weren't sick and didn't end up in hell and so won't you. Don't believe bullshits like that for a split second, okay? And I also want you to remember that it doesn't change a thing for me and mom too. You will always be my little girl, our little girl and we love you'. We shared a long hug before driving back home. On the way back he insisted to buy my favourite chicken and waffles for dinner, saying mom's veggie soup could wait. For my birthday, a month later or so, he asked me to follow him to the attic and showed me this chest. To meet the Aunties that 'would have surely been there for me'". She tipped away a tear. "I told you I married Madeleine right after the legalisation of same-sex marriages. My wedding was also the last public event Mom and Dad attended together before his health worsened irremediably. He passed away last year". For a moment she looked on the verge of tears but she recovered quickly. "Sorry...anyway, that day Dad insisted on walking me down the aisle even if he was getting weak. He beamed with pride when a friend fixed a rainbow ribbon to his jacket. Later at the lunch he read a speech he had written for the day, his hand shaking. He shared the story of his Aunties. He said that despite the hardships their situation forced upon them, they had quite a happy life together, a happiness carefully hidden from the world. He wished us to find something similar to what they shared without needing to hide anymore. He said Adele and Zetta would have been so happy and proud to celebrate with all of us that day" Mrs. Nowak picked the Shakespeare Sonnet book and gave him a fond look. "He brought this to the wedding. And he read for us the sonnet 116, the one Zetta mentioned in her dedication. You know, the one that starts with 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments..." ----------------------- A few months later the exhibition on old Hollywood queer cinema and artists opened. Each artist had a room that soon filled with a crowd of enthusiastic visitors. In the first half, in a room arranged as a turn of the century nickelodeon with velvet chairs, all the memorabilia of Zetta Serda's public life: panels explaining the various stages of her career and the birth of her myth, promotional pictures of her performances, articles about her and a copy of a gazette announcing her wedding with the director Richard King. On the wall, on a screen her entire filmography rolled up in loop, bewitching spectators after a century. In display cases: the gorgeous sapphire necklace she wore on her last night on the Ship of Dreams and at the movie party of Surviving the Titanic, and a replica of her Cleopatra costume. The aging Queen of Egypt with a tragic love and destiny immortalised by Shakespeare was her last role back on the theater stage before retiring from the scenes. Old scripts with her personal annotation were displayed with photographs taken on sets and mundane events. The wall hosting the motion-picture screen cut the room in half. On the other side, the hidden half of her life. Her life with Adele no one suspected back then. A life kept secret that now unveiled in front of the eyes of the visitors. The curators discovered that finding public pictures of Miss Carrem was nearly impossible, true to the nickname she acquired as time went by: The Shadow. She stayed at Zetta's side until and even after she stopped acting, showing rare loyalty and devotion, but ever surrounded by this mystery allure. No one, even the most stubborn reporters managed to know anything about her and she was soon dismissed as a Titanic survivor, possibly a fan, who worked as Zetta's secretary and somehow gained her respect. Little they knew about the depth of their relationship and what stacks of secret letters and family memories revealed of the life of Miss Carrem. A panel finally told her story and her secret achievements: Adele, or better Adal, kept fighting for a fairer world and society her whole life and marched for women's right to vote on the famous parade in 1915. She also passed the teaching of Edith Garrud to her American sisters. The only pictures of her came from the Nowak family, except for one. The only photograph of a public appearance of Miss Carrem as well as the only known public appearance of Zetta and Adele. An old grainy photo accurately framed showed Adele shaking hands with The Unsinkable Molly Brown on a podium. In her free hand a shiny medal and a few steps behind the mayor of New York. According to the panel, the survivors' committee founded by Mrs. Brown decided to award Miss Carrem a medal for bravery and a generous check "to help her and her sister starting a new life in America". With great surprise, Miss Carrem received the medal and the check, thanked the board but refused the honors. Instead, she asked to deliver them both to the family of a certain Charlie Stoke, a stewart that lost his life in the sinking to save her life and those of many passengers. She added that her friend expressed the desire to study naval engineering one day and she wished that the money kindly offered to her would be enough to establish a scholarship for boys like him across the ocean. In another picture, Miss Carrem and her sister chatted with Moll Brown in company of Zetta. Eventually, other philanthropists and wealthy socialites signed checks for her cause so that the Stoke family received a generous contribution too. And today, as another picture confirmed, the faculty of naval engineering of the University of Newcastle hosts a marble engraving of Charlie Stoke: to his memory a scholarship had been instituted one year after on the anniversary of the sinking. Since 1913 it has been helping students of poor background to get an education and improve their life. Zetta herself became a philanthropist during her Renaissance and ever since. The first act of her new phase of her life was joining the Moll Brown survivors committee to provide help to the second and third class passengers families and survivors. Some said that the tragedy she witnessed touched her heart, other claimed that it was to be attributed to the influence of her publicist. Jokingly, she used to say that after all, she had too much money yet all she could have wished for in her life, so why not doing some good with it? A considerable donation under her and Mr King was received by the main hospital during the Spanish flu pandemic; she was particularly active in providing financial help to struggling neighbourhoods and female education institutions. In the middle of the room, a long glass display hosted the Shakespeare Sonnets opened at sonnet 116 and a selection of the private correspondence between Zetta and Adele. My darling, You will receive this letter tomorrow morning when I'll be already off to Chicago. The suitcases are ready and packed, this is a goodnight note scribbled the night before leaving you to remind you how much I love you and care about you. How much I'm going to miss you even if - thank God! - we won't be parted for long... Do not forget you promised me to write every day! Write to me, Adele, write to me whatever thought crosses that gorgeous mind of you: you know I could you rambling for hours without getting tired of the sound of your voice, of your sparkling wisdom. I wanna know everything. So don't be shy: I'll be waiting your letters with tender impatience. Can't wait to be in your arms once more. Adoringly yours, Zetta - Dear, dearest Zetta, I went to Central Park today with Hileni. It was a gorgeous spring day, sunny, a gentle breeze blowing: 'simply too beautiful to be wasted inside' as my sister put it. Did I tell you that she's still exchanging letters with the delivery boy from the hat shop? I thought they were over but apparently he invited her to the nickelodeon next week. Anyway, walking in the park with her I suddenly realised how I wanted to share that spring wonder with you. When are you coming back to New York? Tell me soon, please. And even 'soon' won't be soon enough: you're always on my mind since you left. But yes, tell me soon so I can make you promise we will go for a walk before the weather becomes too hot. Do you think I can wrap my arm with yours? Is it professional enough for a publicist? Even just for a few steps: oh you have no idea how I would love that! Or maybe you have? I hope so: it'd mean you miss me as much as I miss you when we are apart. Oh, I almost forgot: all settled with that magazine you mentioned before your departure! I negotiated a two pages long interview, plus pictures. And a cover mention. Hope I did well: you have already fired me as your secretary, I must prove you I am just what you're looking for in a publicist... Can't wait to see you again! Loving you always, Adele Only one letter was copied on a panel of its own on the main wall side by side with a blow-up of the picture of Adele and Zetta slow-dancing barefoot and free, for a blessed moment immortalised in a discreet shot. Adele pressing a tender kiss on Zetta's forehead, drawing a soft smile on the acrtress' lips. Many visitors commented it was heartwarming to see such a photograph that conveyed the intimacy and the warmth of affection radiating from the dancing couple. Some said that Zetta was even more beautiful like that: free, hair slightly askew and genuinely happy, loved. What stole their hearts away though was the letter attached to it. It was no surprise that the curators decided to name the retrospective Underwater. Dearest Adele, Forgive me for the tone of this letter. I am writing it down in bed while I cannot sleep and my mind runs back to you as if we could meet halfway between the miles separating us, in a world of fantasy of our own. It's ridiculous how much I miss you! I want you near, I need you near all the time. Take tonight: if you were here with me, I would be heavenly sleeping in your loving embrace. Most unfortunately, you are not and I'm lying here, insomniac, thinking of you. And about my life. No, don't frown. I am not getting all sad again. It's...bittersweet. And - I'll spoil you the ending so you will stop worrying, hopefully - it gets better the more you proceed. Have you ever felt trapped underwater? I did, my whole life. Always hiding, always measuring words, gestures, gazes not to let them see, not to let them know...so little time to go up and break the surface. Drop the mask and breathe. In, out. Once, twice. In my lowest moments I repeated to my myself: how are you gonna survive? One day an acquaintance with a remarkable passion for the sea explained me and the other bored commensals that you can keep someone alive by breathing oxygen into their mouth underwater. Pretty much like mouth-to-mouth resuscitation helps an unconscious person to regain consciousness. I found it interesting but doubted his words. Then I met you, Adele. My dearest, wondrous Adele. And I learnt that yes, you can't breathe if you're constantly underwater...but you won't drown if you have the right person swimming by your side in those deep waters. Put your lips on me, Adele. Touch me, hold me in your arms. And I can live underwater. With your love, I can live underwater. We can live underwater. I love you. I want to cover a full page of these three simple words: I love you. I want to cry them out and entrust them to the winds, to the night. But what for? Who cares if the world knows or not? I'll whisper them over your lips when we will be reunited. So you can breathe underwater. Counting down the hours separating us, my love. Eternally yours, Zetta

#titanic storyscape #sc titanic #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele #zetta x adele series

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Titanic - Zetta x Adele

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Ghost Of You

Lost Without You

Once Upon A Time (fairytale AU)

Series: Underwater by @queerchoicesblog

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#titanic storyscape #zetta serda #storyscape fanfiction #storyscape fanfic #zetta x adele

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The Movie Party (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series, Ch. 17)

So, folks, the SC Titanic Zetta x Adele Series has come to an end: this is the final chapter. It’s time for Zetta and Adele to have a reunion at last. 

I want to thank all those who supported this crazy project of mine. This series has been quite important and will somehow still be, even if the original story is no longer available and it’s the end. But I will be grateful to the authors who crafted it: it was one of the few times I felt truly seen as represented as a wlw in a game. 

You must forgive me if this chapter will be a bit longer but I wanted to bid a farewell to the various characters who made this story one hard to forget. It’s the finale: you either go big or go home, right? And you will find the explanation of the title of the series, if you haven’t figured it out already...

Little disclaimer-favor: especially since the tags don’t seem to be working anymore, if you do enjoy it, please consider supporting the author & sharing this. A little gesture that means a lot!

Stay tuned next week for the Epilogue!

Zetta x Adele Tag: @storyscaped​ ​ @storyscapefanficarchive​ @marmolady​ @animus-and-anima​ @hayley-carter19 @escako​  @everlastingchoices​ @indescribablechoices​ @ahrielstuff​ @bornonawdnsday​ @nazario-sayeed​  @h-doodles​ @adele-serda​ @marlcasters​ @brightpinkpeppercorn​  @michelleconnoly​ @charliejane-blog​ @ghost-of-yuri​  @choicesgremlin​  @lanzhansguqin​ @orange-elephants​ @wonder-falcon​

Zetta x Adele Series Tag: @eternal-langdon​ @nydeiri​

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15 , Ch. 16

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The night of the Surviving the Titanic premiere, I walk into the venue at the arm of Richard, my little Napoleon in tow, 'fashionably late' as my fiancé puts it. We are greeted by the flash powder and shouts of the reporters and the awe of the guests gathered in the dashing foyer, waiting in line to show a steward their invitation. I wave at them, smiling and searching the crowd, while Richard tips his hat. Sadly, I do not see any familiar face or I don't recognise any before we walk past them and disappear behind the red velvet curtains of the auditorium. Another steward takes care of our coats while a colleague leads us to the honorary seats reserved for us and the rest of the crew.

We seat and wait. To keep my mind busy, I fix Richard's bow tie leaning to the side. I chat a bit with Sabine and compliment her outfit once again: I'm touched she decided to wear the pearl headband I gifted her when I made it into the movie industry. A birthday gift: she kept repeating she couldn't accept a gift like that but eventually I prevailed. Seeing it again after all those years...I'm so grateful she didn't listen to me and refused to bring it with her on our trip to Europe: "I'd rather not, Madam: I don't think I will have occasion to wear it", she said. I'm incredibly happy she deemed this night a right occasion. I'm so used to see her in her maid uniform that I forgot how she looks in an evening gown and the little detail makes her look like the friend she is to me. I'm pretty happy and proud of my outfit too. I picked it myself: I knew exactly what I wanted when I commissioned it to a New York fashion designer à la mode. I don't usually wear black, I much prefer colors, but lately I've been reconciling with it. And it seemed appropriate for the night: black is the color of mourning, right? What is tonight, this movie if not a commemoration of all those who aren't with us tonight, all those who sacrificed their lives for people like me and all the other survivors we managed to trace back, gathered here tonight? I'm not naive enough to ignore there is more to it, something less poetic, but I hold onto the remembrance of the lives lost. Onto that night: I hope the meaning of my sapphire necklace, the same one I wore on my birthday night, is not lost to those who were there. A hand on my shoulder, a gentle touch. As my heart races a bit faster I turn...but no, it's only my colleague, my fictional sister greeting me at the arm of John, Richard's right hand. I kiss her cheeks and invite the two of them to join us. She is visibly excited when she announces that the foyer is packed: she had never seen a crowd like that. It's a delight to hear but I can only hope in that crowd are a few familiar faces I long to see. One dear face I desperately long to see. One last time, at least if that's what it must be but I need to see her, to make amends and tell her the truth. She must know: I owe her that. When the stewards eventually open the velvet curtains, the auditorium fills fast, women in fur stoles and men in tuxedo swarm in like bees, chatting lively as they take a seat. I stretch my neck to see if I can find her face but my eyes only meet tycoons, socialite and strangers. Is that man over there checking the night programme Felix? I certainly hope so: if he's here, Lawrence must be too. And God knows how I need him tonight. After what feels like an eternity, it's time. The premiere begins. "Here goes nothing" Richard sighs, taking my hand into his as they dim off the lights. I wish I could have spotted Adele before darkness fall on the auditorium and the projector starts crackling. Apparently, uncertainty must torture me a bit longer.

As story unfolds on screen, I hear the audience hold their breath in awe and fear and for a moment I am reminded why I love my job: to give people feelings, to make them live lives they would never live even if for a fleeting moment. Their wonder, their tears of sorrow and joy are the best reward, the only reward I look for, even more important than the generous checks I receive for my performances: it makes me feel alive, it makes me believe that for a moment our hearts beat at unison and we're connected. When my character and her sister hug in the lifeboat and watch the sinking ship, the muffled sounds and sniffling around me tell me that no matter how hard performing that scene was, the message got trough. I am incredibly happy about this.

After the screening and a round of thunderous applauses, stewards lead us to the theater lobby. I have a look around while reporters and guests join us. Richard insisted to take care of the decorations and the whole movie party himself...well, with his staff: he claimed that he had asked of me too much already and he was happy to help and give Sabine a few days off. My little Napoleon was taken aback by the decision: she has always supervised every party, every mundane event. I look at her and I have to stifle a laugh at her unimpressed face. She's right: just like the picture, the decorations aren't grand enough, not luxurious enough and I have no doubt she would have done so much better than this. There isn't even music... I hear the clinking sound of camera and flash powder igniting and before I know it, a bunch of reporters are taking pictures. I put on my best smile and pose with Richard. When he agrees we offered enough coverage of the events for the moment, he guides me away from them towards a waiter in high uniform offering champagne glasses. He hands me one and takes one for himself. "To our success, to our night" he smiles, rising his glass. I repeat his toast and we cling glasses. I have just tasted the cold alcoholic sweetness of it that guests approach us. I do my best to be polite and charming: I know it's my duty even if it distracts me from my most important search for my love. Is she even here? Maybe she just tossed my invitation into the fireplace after my disappearance...oh, no, I don't wanna picture such thing! And I know it's selfish of me, maybe even my note was selfish...it probably would make things easier for her if I disappeared and let her live her life, if I let her forget me soon. Strip away the memory of the time we shared together like a band-aid. Maybe even engaging romantically with her was selfish of me in my situation...oh, I'm tormenting myself again! Focus, Zetta, focus! The guests profusely compliment and comments are awfully predictable: the jewelled wife of a well known mogul dramatically claims that the picture was "a true masterpiece" and she totally felt "as if she was there too that night". A young socialite nods and echoes her words: is she her daughter? I flash them a smile and say I am overjoyed to hear so, it was the effect we were hoping for. I am stuck into conversations like these until the party is in full swing. My head almost hurt at the insane amount of stale nonsense I hear: maybe Lawrence was right when he once said that the problem with fiction is that the audience hardly takes it as such and cannot distinguish between documentary and fictional movies. They will go to bed tonight truly convinced they know what we survivors felt that night, they will tell friends encouraging them to go see the picture (hopefully) but the truth is...they know nothing. They have no idea how terrifying it was, how gruesome. They have no idea what suddenly not knowing if you or your dear ones will see another dawn or hearing gunshots and screams of terror all around you feel. It's like ice flowing into your veins instead of blood, a clutching fear I will never forget. Their heart would have broken in a thousand pieces too hearing the despair in the voices of the poor souls swimming in the frozen water begging for a help that never came.  Maybe this picture was a mistake after all, I don't know. I keep jumping from one conversation to another, peering across the crowd gathered on the balcony and below but I cannot spot anyone I know. Instead, a young man out of the blue asks me news of James: they're acquaintances and he was hoping to meet him here tonight. I sense Richard tensing up at my side as he sinks his glass of champagne. He was on the ship too, the young man continues, is he alright. I have no idea if the rumor of what happened at my birthday party has spread or if it faded away after the tragedy so I offer him a quick smile. I conceal how his reminding me of my fallen little prince is making my wound bleed again. James is fine as far as I know - I tell him - but sadly couldn't make it tonight, a previous engagement he couldn't postpone. My merciful lie seems to be enough for him as he tips his hat and asks me to bring him his greetings. As we part from them, I excuse myself and head away from the crowd "to fix my hair and rouge". Thankfully, Richard understands. He takes my glasses and places a quick kiss on my temple, whispering that it's alright, he will cover for me. He winks at me before greeting a colleague. I make a beeline for the restroom to catch some breath: I'm starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by this party but I must be patient, this night is nowhere close to be over soon. I take a deep breath, one last check and return to the lobby. 

At the corner of my eye, I finally notice a familiar couple quietly having a drink in a defiled spot by the railing. Friendly faces, at last! I call their names and they turn. "Here's the belle of the ball!" Lawrence exclaims, approaching. He is charming as usual: he takes my hand and gallantly raised to his lips, smiling. He still looks tired and older than he actually is. I pull him into a quick hug. "You came, you old dog!" I joke, making him laugh. "And you too!" I wink at Felix who blushes slightly. When we part, I throw the two of them a look that - I hope - will convey my deep affection more than my words can. "I am incredibly happy you are here tonight" I smile softly. "We were incredibly happy to receive your invitation to the party, dear Zetta" Lawrence twists my words with his kindness. I take a look at him and flash him a sheepish smile. "You hated it, I know" He sighs before laughing, a gentle laugh. I speak again before he can formulate an excuse. "I can only hope I made up for it. My performance at least, the champagne..." "You were magnificent, Zetta. As usual" His smile is genuine, affectionate. Sweet dear Lawrence... "Tell you what, I had to give the gentleman here my handkerchief in the finale" he adds, a playful yet equally affectionate smile on his lips, nodding to his companion. Felix sighs, shaking his head. He cannot refrain a smile. I laugh and hug him. "That is such a great compliment, thank you, darling!" He's always been a big fan of me, he notes and Lawrence is quick to confirm it. We share a long look, quiet, safely away from the loud crowd. When will I see the two of them again? "Lots of people here tonight" Lawrence comments, after a moment, his blue eyes roaming the lobby packed with guests. "Yeah..." I sigh. "Yet you are the first friendly faces I bump into tonight. Well, apart from Sabine. Can you believe it?". I'm not surprised that he understands the unsaid. I'm relieved, actually: concealing my vulnerability but not to the point a man like him cannot sense it, underneath my words. He shares a quick look with Felix before reaching for my hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze. "Maybe it's just because you got stuck with those socialites in high hats and furs and embarrassingly expensive jewels" He winks at me and I laugh, a liberating laugh I needed so much. "Maybe" I concede before adding, hesitant. "I don't even know what I should hope for, Lawrence". He considers my words and when his eyes meet mine again, I don't want to let go of his hand. I want to hold onto him. "The night is not over, right?". I smile weakly at him: he's right but I have no idea if it's a good thing or not. Maybe it will only mean my agony is far from ending anytime soon. He seems to be reading my own thoughts. "Chin up, dear Zetta. And if you need us, we will be downstairs. Just say the word" Sometimes I wonder what I did good to have a man like him being so kind and thoughtful with me. I nod and try to recollect myself. I wish I could stay with them a bit longer but I see reporters approaching and a proper host cannot disappear forever. Sadly I must go, they know it. After one last lingering look, I take my leave. Evading the reporters is a lost war, so I surrender and pose again. How many pictures do they need, goddammit? Oh boy, this flock of vultures wants statements too. Fine, I know what to say. Marvel at how many people gather here tonight, tell how important this movie is to you, how you hope it will help bring along the memory of the tragedy...and start over. Then, with nonchalance and a charming, unreadable smile, walk away. Thank God, it works. I look for Richard or Sabine but they are both nowhere in sight. I shake hands with a couple of New York socialites when I hear a voice behind me calling my name, quietly almost shyly. I turn and see a young woman in a floral dress, red hair in elegant waves and big green eyes looking at me in awe. "Miss Serda, I just wanted to thank you for your invitation and say how flawless your performance was tonight". I flash her a smile. Have we met already? I cannot tell... "Did you enjoy the picture?" "Yes, quite a lot! Even if it's not the same, of course..." she lowers her eyes as if ashamed to anger me with such an undeniable truth. "Were you on the ship?" I inquiry, in my most reassuring voice. "Yes" she nods. "I was..." she pauses before shaking her head, a brighter smile relaxing her face. "Actually I was Adele's cabinmate. Your secretary's cabinmate, I mean". I gape and take a better look at the redhead in front of me. But of course! I saw her on the deck with a Adele as we were playing shuffleboard with the Baron. I tell her so, hoping to make her happy. It works, apparently: she looks pleasantly surprised I remember her. "You're...Clorinda!" I exclaim, reminiscing Lucille's words at our dinner, when she recognised Adele's dress as one of her own creation, a gift to her favourite model. She laughs, but her laugh is weak. "I was Clorinda, yes". "Lucille sang your praises during our journey" I smile. "Will I see you soon at her upcoming show?". "I'm afraid not, Miss Serda" her lips twist in a pained smile. "I no longer work for Mrs Duff-Gordon". Seeing my surprised face, she continues.   

"I had an accident during the sinking. I am no longer suited to work as a mannequin" she explains, quickly lowering her eyes before meeting mine again and adding, cheerfully: "But it's alright. I am here, I am alive and I am in America...it's all that matters, right?". We smile weakly at each other for a moment. I feel sorry for this girl even if she seems stronger than she looks. "Adele talked of you" I tell her and I'm glad to see the mix of surprise and excitement on her face. "You're the big fan of mine who kindly borrowed the posters and memorabilia for my birthday party at the Cafe Parisien. Seeing the old and new posters, reading the little notes you wrote...it meant so much to me, truly. I have never had a chance to thank you properly but I will always remember your kindness to me". A hint of red spreads over her cheeks as she smiles a big bright smile. "Oh, it was nothing, Miss Zetta...I was honoured to give my humble contribution to your birthday. If it made you happy, I'm happy, overjoyed!". I laugh softly at her contagious enthusiasm. Adele told me it was quite endearing and she was right. Her cabinmate speaks again, still gleaming but recovering the initial shyness. "Miss Serda, I was wondering if I could...well, if I could get your autograph? I was hoping to ask you during the crossing but then.." "But of course!" I smile and beckon a steward over. When he's back with a promotional picture and a pen, I look back at my fan. "What name should I write?" "Oh, Lena. Lena Montague but Lena is just perfect". I write my dedication and hand it to her. She takes a step forward, limping a little, and I get a glimpse of her wooden leg as she looks down at the picture with reverence. "There, for you. And your new collection, maybe" I wink. 

She thanks me but I insist that it's my line. And a sudden idea crosses my mind. "Thank you for coming, Miss Montague. I am glad I got a chance to make your acquaintance. And I was wondering...I remember expressing the wish to invite you for breakfast after being informed of your lovely gesture, to thank you. Would you accept a belated invitation? Let's say next week?". I have never seen such starry eyes on a face of a fan. "And who would be so foolish to turn down an invitation from you, Miss Serda? Sure thing!" "Excellent! I'll send my maid to you then, she's here somewhere...enjoy the party, Miss Montague". I kiss her cheeks and offer her one last smile before going back to my guests. I search Sabine but I find Richard instead, who introduces me to a couple of survivors he shook hands with. It doesn't take long before I realise why he wanted me to meet them: they say they were on my lifeboat and it was thanks to my intervention that they survived that awful night. They will be eternally grateful. I...I don't know what to say. I see Richard smiling proudly down at me while a faint blush spread over my cheeks. I tell them I am sure they would have helped too if the roles were reversed and wish them a happy new life in America. As they part, I finally spot my little Napoleon approaching, imperturbable as the Sphinx, quietly observing the stewards moving from one side of the hall to other. You can take away her apron but not her inquisitive gaze, I suppose: no rest for Sabine... "Ah, here you are!" I greet her, before teasing her. "I feared I lost you in the crowd" She offers me a quick amused smile. "I wasn't lost, Madam, just mingling. An impressive crowd tonight, n'est pas?" "Beyond our wildest expectations, yes!" Richard confirms, eyes roaming the upper floor.   

"I am glad to hear, Monsieur King. A well deserved success" my maid bows her head, concealing once again the disappointment for not being involved in the party setting. Then she turns towards me and continues, with a nonchalance that is only pretended. I know it quite well... "By a fortunate coincidence, I bumped into Miss Carrem just a moment ago". I can only hope my face doesn't betray my feelings, the turmoil her words provoked inside me. Adele is here, she came. I will get to see her at least one last time, I will talk to her. My words will be a poor consolation to her maybe but...I will see her again. "Carrem...Carrem, Carrem...oh right, your secretary on board, huh?" Richard exclaims but I barely register what he's saying. All I can think of is Adele, Adele here, tonight. Oh God, thank you! "Oui, precisement" my little Napoleon confirms on my behalf as I cannot speak. "An exquisite young lady, if I say so myself. The best candidate we had in ages, Monsieur, and I am not easily impressed, I assure you". Richard says something about how he would love to make her acquaintance and thank Miss Carrem personally but I am not listening just like the night of our arrival when he was stroking my hand but my head was far away with he woman I foolishly a abandoned at the pier. "I left her in the main hall downstairs. She's with her sister" Sabine adds, addressing me. Snapping out of my reverie, I manage to remind Richard that I talked a little about them. They were on my lifeboat too, we stayed together on the Carpathia...but I am extremely grateful to the providential steward who beckons him over. He sighs and excuses himself, saying he will be back before we know it. As soon as he's out of earshot and someone else interrupts me again, I wrap my arm around Sabine's and lead her to the side, by the railing. Now that Richard is gone, I can show my concern more freely. To some extent, obviously but I think I am safe with my little Napoleon. 

"How is she? Did she look alright?" I inquiry, checking over my shoulder. Sabine ponders her words, as if thinking how to describe the impression her brief meeting with Adele left on her. After what feels like an eternity for my tormented heart, she speaks. "If I may, she looks...troubled". I knew it, I feared so. But hearing it put down into words makes me frown. "Troubled? But of course...what a fool I have been! I shouldn't have invited her here tonight, I should have visited her and-" But I can't bring myself to finish my own sentence. "Troubled with grief, I mean. With with the weight of what happened that night. Mourning, you would say, perhaps". Then she sighs, a deep sigh, shaking her head. "It's such a pity to see a young woman like her taking the world over her shoulders, all that sorrow, all that pain". "She wouldn't be Adele if she didn't" I smile, thinking of every time she spoke of her fight for women's rights, the days she spent in jail for it. My sweet revolutionary is indeed a little Atlas and I fear no one can change that, it's simply her nature. But it pains me to see her so miserable and I cannot shake away the feeling that my disappearance played a role in it. At the very least I added salt on her injury. "But Mademoiselle Carrem is strong" Sabine interrupts my somber train of thoughts. "She just needs time, that's all, I think. Time and a little joie de vivre, don't you think, Madam?".   

I smile sadly at her words. "Don't we all need it, ma chére Sabine? A little joie the vivre...". Yes, it certainly would be nice. But is it even possible? Even for people like me and Adele or are we forced to be content with cheap surrogates that keep us floating on the water surface? I wish I had an answer... "I will go talk to her" I sigh, straightening my skirt. "I am sure MademoIselle Carrem will be delighted to see you, Madam". "I hope so, Sabine". Yes, I do hope so. We look at each other for a moment before I speak again. "Oh, before I forget...would you mind getting Miss Montague's address and find out when I can meet her for breakfast next week or so?" I ask, nodding at my fan's figure in the hall downstairs. "And book a table to the Plaza or the St Regis. They're both fine...oh and please, send Miss Montague a poster of Surviving the Titanic. I'll ask Richard to sign it too". I fill her in about the details of Lena's life before the sinking and her troubled arrival: the incident, the loss of her job and the end of her modelling career. Sabine bows her head. "Certament, Madam". "In the meantime, I'll see if I can find a way to do more. I wish I could do more for her, somehow" I continue, lost in my thoughts. My little Napoleon nods and goes quiet, pondering. Around us, the sound of laughters and clinging glasses. When she speaks again, she almost startles me. "I'll be on my way" she announces, standing straighter. Before taking her leave, she looks at me and comments quietly that it has just come to her mind that I still haven't found a new secretary since our arrival. I know that look, that pretended nonchalance once again. As Richard approaches, I give her arm a gentle squeeze, a faint smile crossing my lips. "Go find Miss Montague, Sabine. And not a word on this before I speak to the girl". She throws me a conspiratorial look and walks away. When I turn, Richard is offering me his arm. "Fancy a trip downstairs, darling?". "I thought you never asked!" I smirk, wrapping my arm around his.

As we start walk down the stairs, I can feel my heart beating faster in my chest at the thought of my proximity to Adele, how close we are after all this months...even if it's also different now. But it doesn't matter: I don't want it to matter now...what did she say on the deck of the sinking ship? ‘All I care about is that you're here with me, and safe’. Yes, that it's all I care about too. I...saw her. She's with Hileni by a small table with hors d'ouvres and a pyramid of champagne glasses. Be still my heart, I beg you, be still...but it doesn't listen. I cannot control it anymore now that I know for sure she's here. She's wearing a green dress that it or just perfect for her but it enhances her beauty, if it's even possible. Oh, Adele...you have no idea how badly I have missed you! I feel my face lighten up and my lips curl into a bright, happiest smile. See what hold you have on me, my love? I don't even pay attention to those who greet and part as I walk by: I only have eyes for one guest now, for her. The first who spots me is Hileni: her eyes widen at the sight of me. I suppose she has never seen me in all my glory before; on the Carpathia, even if I was still wearing the outfit of my birthday party underneath the coat a kind fan gave me, I was out of my element just like the rest of us. Adele turns a moment later, following her sister's gaze. When our eyes meet, I almost feel my knees get weak. I hope she can see that this smile is meant for her only. I think she does, she brightens up almost immediately I turn towards Richard. "Will you excuse me a moment? I want to say hi to a dear friend I haven't seen in a while...". Dear friend: the euphemism is an insult to what Adele means to me but it will do. Just like the fiction, it's what the world can take. "Sure, go ahead. I'll go find John" he smiles, parting. I immediately glide over to my love, heart racing in my chest. "Adele"   

I call her name and the sweet sound of her name fills my mouth. I place my hand on her upper arms and kisses both her cheeks. Restraining myself from pulling her into a tight embrace and linger in that closeness is a Herculean effort. Her perfume, the shade of red spreading over her cheeks, her shy smile. How I missed you... "Let's you and I catch up" I say, still smiling so brightly. I turn to Hileni and ask: "Mind if I borrow your sister for a moment?". She nods, still looking awed. Without hesitation, I take Adele's arm and lead her to a corner of the room apart from the other guests. For a moment, none of us can't find words. Funny how words are most difficult to find with those who are dearest to our heart. But I know what it is...I feel it too. The weight of our past between us. The memory of our brief happiness together.   

A last, I summon up enough courage to finally speak. "Ad-" "I-" We start talking at the same time, then burst into laughter. Look at us, two fools lost to love! "I feel...almost nervous. Ridiculous, aren't I?" I keep my smile on but I know, just know she sensed the vulnerability reverberating in my voice who has suddenly lost the confidence I had before with my guests. She smiles too, gesturing that it's alright. "Zetta, it's...so good to see you again". I am sure my mind now is less cheerful. Time for my poor apologies. "I'm sorry, Adele. I should have written or visited" I sigh. "I've just been so busy..." To my surprise, she interrupts me, understanding, smiling. "I understand. You've been making the film, and you're getting married..." But she suddenly lose the train of whatever else she had planned to say. Adele, you and I can try to behave normally around each other, to act as if nothing happened...but we simply fail all the time. Our feelings always get in the way, my love, and God knows if I don't know it too well. And this, this sadness cutting off your words is all my fault. "I know you're upset" I frown.

She meets my eyes again in a silent, unnecessary apology. You have nothing to apologise for, I do. And I owe you the cruel truth, at last. I take in a deep breath to steady myself and let my mask fall. I drop my voice to a whisper so that only she can hear. "I've been agonizing over what I'd say when I saw you. And I never came up with a good answer". Adele, if only you knew the nights I spend writing you the most ardent, sorrowful letters! "I love you. I want to be with you. But this marriage has to go forward or my career's done". Do you understand my impossible position, my dearest? But please, I beg you never doubt my feelings. "Doubt thou the stars are fire, doubt the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar...but never doubt I love". When she speaks, her voice is a pained whisper and her words an excruciating plea. "Zetta, please don't do this. I want us to spend our lives together". I couldn't ask for anything better, sweet Adele, but...there is always a cruel but for us. "Even if that life had to be kept secret?" I grimace. "If people knew about us, it would destroy everything I've worked for". Look what malicious rumours brought on Lawrence and Felix even without a solid evidence of their relationship. Look what the world does to people like us. These guests, my adoring fans crowd the movie theaters to see me fall in love with the hero, the dashing heartthrob 'every woman daydream of' without asking me what I really want. They smile and awe at me tonight but they wouldn't hesitate to drag me down into the gutter if they knew who my heart truly belongs to. "I...I can't have both you and my career".

I lower my eyes unable to sustain her gaze any longer. I am so incredibly sorry, Adele, so sorry.... She reaches for my hand, shyly, and I am reminded of the first time she took my hand into hers in my private projection room on board of the Titanic. The soothing warmth of her hand over mine felt so intimate, calming...just like now. I look back at her and I have to fight back tears. She looks over her shoulder then she speaks, her voice low. "I don't care if no one knows about us. All I care about is that there is an us. I need you, Zetta". My eyes widen as I register the meaning of her words. Does she...does she mean it? "Are you sure?" I ask her, unsure whether she is fully aware of what she's proposing. "This won't be like it was on the Titanic, bathhouses and stolen kisses. It won't be easy..." She searches my eyes and nods. I...I would have never thought nor hoped for such a hopeful end of this conversation I feared so much. Oh my dear...not losing Adele, being with Adele! Out of instinct, I move to kiss her but I refrain myself just in time, painfully aware of the surroundings. I must long for your lips a bit longer, my love...but it doesn't matter, we're together now. "We'll need to come up with a plan..." I consider. "How do you feel about being my publicist?". "About as confident as I felt about being your secretary" she beams. I laugh as I laughed with her in the most dire moments...incredible what a light she casts on me, even when I am at my lowest. I regard her fondly as a newfound sweet joie de vivre starts spreading inside me, and I put my hand to her cheek. "This is the happiest I've felt in months...knowing you'll be at my side" I whisper, my voice trembling with the swirl of feelings taking hold of me. "Always" she whispers back, slightly leaning to the touch.

Suddenly we're both brought back to the party by the flash powder igniting around us. As I unwillingly retrieve my hand we're surrounded by journalists shouting my name. I am too overjoyed by our sweet reunion to be annoyed by them. I wish they could have forgotten about me a bit longer, granting me more time with Adele but they are oddly bearable this time.

I see her leaning closer and putting her mouth to my ear. The words she whispers send my heart fluttering. 

"I love you". I turn my face to meet her eyes. I must summon every ounce of strength I have to stop myself from pulling her mouth to mine, pouring my affection on her right in front of the photographers. I see the same restraint in her eyes. There will be other nights for that. Yes, there will other nights... "And I you" I whisper back. My voice is soft, adoring...how could I not adore her? I smile at her one last time before turning to the cameras and bathing into the flash lights. They better capture this moment, I think: I will never be as radiant as I am now. As they keep calling my name and taking picture of me posing, I slowly return to the party I momentarily left for my reunion to Adele. I spot Richard and John lightening cigarettes by the staircase and not far Miss Montague chatting with a man I have never seen before. Sabine is checking herself in a mirror, fixing her headband...a rare moment of vanity for her. Hileni is pondering whether going for the pastry mignons is a bit too much and once saw me looking at her, she shyly waves at me and walks away. To my delight, Lawrence is signing an autograph to a fan, under the proud gaze of Felix, who took a step back. Good old Lawrence... ‘Sometimes our secrets are what make our lives worth living. No matter with what high cost they come attached’, he said. And he was right. I used to repeat to myself that you can't breathe if you're constantly underwater. It turns out I was wrong. With her love, I can breathe underwater.  

#titanic storyscape #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele #zetta x adele series

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Underwater ~ Zetta x Adele Series (SC Titanic)

Here's the masterlist of the Zetta x Adele Series which I decided to title Underwater. Sorry I coulnd’t complete it but I doubt anyone would notice and I’m in a bad place to write atm.

Thank you so much from the bottom of my heart to the couple of folks who supported me through this project that meant a lot to me and to @jackievarma for submitting these amazing edits which bring back to the time when the Titanic started its journey.

Ch 1: Southampton

Ch 2/1: James' Surprise

Ch 2/2: James' Surprise

Ch 3: A Dinner In First Class

Ch 4: A Shuffleboard Match

Ch 5: Confessions

Ch 6: A Matter of Trust

Ch 7: The Velvet Box

Ch 8/1: The Turkish Baths  NS*W

Ch 8/2: The Turkish Baths  NS*W

Ch 9: A Secret Unveiled

Ch 10/1: The Birthday Party 

Ch 10/2: The Birthday Party

Ch 11/1: Asunder

Ch 11/2: Asunder

Ch 12: The Darkest Hour

Ch 13: The Carpathia

Ch 14: New York, At Last

Ch 15: A Life So Changed

Ch 16: Surviving The Titanic

Ch: 17: The Movie Party

Epilogue

#titanic storyscape #sc titanic #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele #zetta x adele series

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Writing Update

Hiya lovelies,

Just wanted to let you know I remember the fics I have in my "short-term wips folder", the last chapter and the epilogue of the Zetta x Adele series & the Corpse Bride prompt. They might be out a bit later than I first expected but these days I am quite busy I didn't manage to write a line. So yeah, I'm falling behind.

The wlw writing project will resume soon, whenever I can bring myself to write a story till the end. Fair warning that a self-indulfing love story set on the Titanic (another one, for those who read the Zetta series and yes, there will be tiny homages to the original series) will probably be added.

Also, yesterday I found myself watching a gorgeous documentary about Pompeii and see what I found?

The guide to the excavation site of Ancient Pompeii I bought when I visited it! Over this crazy hellsite that is getting me through these hard times, I found a little poem in Latin apparently written by a woman to another lady and my heart rejoiced because I had never read one despite studying latin literature in high school, being Roman literature strongly heterosexualized with some (quite rare) occurrences of male gay romances (think of Emperor Adrian and Antinoo) and almost none of wlw love.

So since I wrote a love story set in Sappho's Thiasus & knowing my interest for historical tragical events, why not adding one set in Pompeii? 😉

Fair warning: since I remember with a laughter the awkward moments when my classmates and I visited the Archeology Museum of Naples (where most of the remains of Pompeii are now displayed) and had to move past, skipping one of the most famous section of the Pompeii art gallery, that is the frescoes found in the brothels...well, I might add a little touch of it now that I'm grown. Maybe the story of a lady whose path crosses the the hidden side of the Pompeii splendor might be told, with the given warnings 🤔

P.S. if you are interested in Pompeii history and destruction, please check also Stabia and Hercolaneum, two less famous neighbour cities also affected and buried by the eruption. I haven't visited them yet but a friend who went there assured me they should be on everyone's travel list!

#writing update no one asked #wlw writing project #zetta x adele series #the corpse bride #pompeii

[queerchoicesblog]

Writing Update

Chapter 17 of the Zetta x Adele Series coming later today. Finishing editing...

#zetta x adele series #writing update

[queerchoicesblog]

Lawrence was a pleasure to see again, and thanks God he was there to talk some sense into Zetta ! "Sometimes our secrets are what makes our lives worth living. No matter with what high cost they come attached” What power in that sentence. What I also loved was that Zetta was honest with Richard. She has always been a straight shooter and it's interesting to see a dynamic where she would have much to lose from it but chooses to be (somewhat) honest anyway. With him. With herself. /6 (I think ?)

Part 2 of my response, sweet Nonny!

Let me start saying that:

1. You do not have to apologise for your English because it's brilliant and I'm Italian so no pressure!

2. I absolutely love your talkative mood and because of the kind words you reserved to my writing, I swear! I almost wish we would be sharing a table at a cafe (let's make it a patisserie: I'm a sweet tooth and you have decadent desserts up there!) and chatting about Zetta, Adele and a bit of everything 😊

Giving a voice to wlw characters is my main mission so thank YOU! I'm glad I could make fellow members of our community happy with my stories. I write them for free because it sounds like the right thing in these dark times when many face new personal budget struggles. Maybe one day, if I build enough confidence, I will try to get some works published but today's not that day.

Back to Titanic, I'm particularly glad you appreciate your compatriot Sabine (who will get a scene in the next chapter) and Lawrence. They were minor characters but gosh, how I love them. I tried to add more depths and give them a bit more space in the series since they only appeared from time to time in the original book.

I find the friendship between Lawrence and Zetta quite interesting and a bit endearing. At the Turkish Baths, Zetta described it in these terms:

Of course, it refers to the fact that they're both gay and they can understand each other better than anyone else. But these lines and the affability they showed when he joined Zetta's table for dinner in first class made me picture the two of them as that kind of friends who aren't close as they don't keep in touch or hang out together all the time but whenever they find each other, it's as though they never parted. As many of us feel today about their fellow gay/bi/trans and so on friends, they rely on each other for a support they cannot find elsewhere so they can chat of nothing and everything, laugh but also have deep conversations out of nowhere without needing explanation or excuses. They simply understand the need to talk of certain parts of their lives: finest historical mlm/wlw solidarity. I cannot bring myself to imagine, for instance Lawrence talking of Felix with other gentlemen but Zetta would surely ask him how he's doing. Vice versa I can see the only one Zetta would truly speak of Adele being him.

"Sometimes our secrets are what make our lives worth living. No matter with what high cost they come attached"

I must admit I am quite proud of that sentence 😅

I just thought the story needed something that could explain why Zetta eventually decides to "fight for Adele" in her own way, writing her that note begging to come to the party after months of silence, but also Adele's change of heart about secrecy. We know that Adele has been stagnating for some time after the sinking and the abandonment, dealing with trauma, loss and starting anew in a new country...or at least that's how I picture her? Hileni says she's hardly leaving the shop, she looks afraid to live in full survivor sense of guilt and suffering from the sudden disappearance of her love. Through those months she changes and I reckon this change includes the shift from this (in my playthrough)

To this:

Back on the Titanic Adele seemed almost unapologetic about showing her affection as if "pushing boundaries". True, she's an outcast unlike Zetta and the adeline pumped high in the aftermath of the collision but she was the lesbian hero everyone dreamed in the moment: proclaiming her love for Zetta and kissing her passionately in the crowd. Quite a shock for super closet lesbian like Zetta! Then, months later she no longer says "I don't care who's watching" but is the one proposing a secret romance, accepting to live her love behind closed doors and putting up a mask in public if that's what it takes to be with Zetta. I think she came to the same conclusion Lawrence stated. And I think it's interesting how the change in Zetta is somehow symmetrical: from freezing on the l word to realising she doesn't want to part from Adele - and kissing her on the deck uncaring of the crowd - to make it happen after her own stagnation.

As for the Richard discourse, I believe that what Mateo said was for once true:

Adele and her conscience, her courage inspired her to be a better version of herself while her compassion softened a bit Adele. At the beginning of the story, Zetta is bitter, sarcastic, utterly gorgeous but not so pleasant to have around, for her own decision: her guard is up and she's unhappy. Through the story, she shows a new side of her, compassionate, protective, smart and gentle that was there but Adele rekindled. In the next chapter I will give a hint of other ways in which I believe Adele inspired her to action.

But a change I picture being a tail end of this is being (somewhat) honest with Richard. Adele put her freedom at risk for her and I want to believe that gesture impressed Zetta more than she admitted to herself maybe. She praised her conscience and courage...now it was her time to be brave. Zetta not saying a thing after what happened made little sense to me, if she suffers so much as we get to understand. Complete honesty is not a safe route or at least one she is not willing to go for but she pushes herself as far as she feels comortable stating the truth: is he convinced to marry her even knowing that she cannot love him like he does? Seems like an honest and merciful warning: Zetta cares for her career but she is not a heart of stone and I headcanon she likes Richard even if not romantically.

Richard doesn't get the true meaning behind her confession but as you said, could she? Zetta is closeted and very careful not to draw the slightest suspicion on her. He couldn't possibly imagine the truth but I cannot bring myself to see it as completely dumb either. We cannot read a person's heart with Suisse precision but we can perceive coldness or when our feelings are not fully reciprocated. He probably knew already that Zetta didn't love him "like he loves her" and it explained it to himself as stemming from her independence, her being a lady who can't be entirely tamed. Which is not a lie, just one part of the truth.

Sorry, I went down a tangent here and ended up flooding you with words!

Hope to hear from you soon! Stay safe and healthy ❤

#long post #lovely nonny #nonny asks #titanic storyscape #zetta x adele series #lawrence yarrow #richard king #sabine

[queerchoicesblog]

Writing Masterlist

Time After Time - Wlw Writing Project

Storyscape Fanfics

Underwater - Zetta Serda x Adele Series (SC Titanic)

The Corpse Bride ~ A Sapphic Rewriting

When We Were Young ~ The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, Celia St. James POV Series

A League Of Their Own (2022) Fanfics

#writing masterlist #wlw writing project #wlw writing #storyscape #zetta x adele series

[queerchoicesblog]

A  Life So Changed (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series, Ch. 15)

So, folks, here’s the new chapter of the series. Thank you so much for your support, hope you enjoy it!

Little disclaimer-favor: especially since the tags don’t seem to be working anymore, if you do enjoy it, please consider supporting the author & sharing this. A little gesture that means a lot!

Also, this chapter contains reference to THIS FIC I wrote about James and Zetta inevitable confrontation not showed in the original book.

Word Count: 2000+

Zetta x Adele Tag: @storyscaped​ ​ @storyscapefanficarchive​ @marmolady​ @animus-and-anima​ @hayley-carter19 @escako​  @everlastingchoices​ @indescribablechoices​ @ahrielstuff​ @bornonawdnsday​ @nazario-sayeed​  @h-doodles​ @adele-serda​ @marlcasters​ @brightpinkpeppercorn​  @michelleconnoly​ @charliejane-blog​ @ghost-of-yuri​  @choicesgremlin​  @lanzhansguqin​ @orange-elephants​ @wonder-falcon​

Zetta x Adele Series Tag: @eternal-langdon​ @nydeiri​

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14

____________________________________

What follows that night is a feverish dream. The following months flow in a haze as days blend into each other. New York, my apartment...all is familiar yet ever distant. As if I'm back home and somewhere far away simultaneously. I'm here and I'm not here.

Moving on is tougher than I could have possibly imagined. Sabine and Richard take care of me with tender compassion, doubling their usual efforts: it's heartwarming, truly. It leaves me wondering what I have ever done right in my life to deserve such adoration and, most importantly, affection because it's genuine concerned affection what I see in their eyes when our eyes meet. Sabine immediately added a newfound touch of sweetness to her proverbial efficiency and joins me at the breakfast table more often these days: sometimes it happens that I am not in the mood for talking and we sit together in complete silence. At first it made me nervous but my little Napoleon doesn't seem to mind: she would offer me a smile and gesture to the coffee pot or the plate filled with slices of my favourite bread and my nervousness melts away replaced by a sense of comfort. Richard visits me more than usual and invites me to join him for a walk at Central Park: "you always say how much you love that place, let's go together...it will do you good" he suggests, smiling sheepishly and offering me his arm. Just like Sabine, he doesn't mind that at times I fall quiet and melancholy takes over me. He would gently stroke my hand resting on his arm and keep walking at my side. One day, as I took a seat on a bench, he picked a flower, a gorgeous little daisy, and pinned it to my hat. He smiled at me and gave my hand an encouraging squeeze before taking a seat beside me. He's surprisingly sweet, sweeter than I deserve, and more mature than I thought when we first met. Richard never once mentioned nor complained about James. He would have every reason and right to question me about him after the secret letters my nephew sent him, asking for money. He never did: the day after our arrival, he even asked his friend John to make sure Mr. Eisler and his valet were safe in their New York apartment. Richard is probably waiting for the moment I'm ready to have that conversation. How could I never be ready for it? Yet, I must, I must confront my nephew: what he did is too hurtful and serious not to come with harsh consequences. Before I send a note to James, I share with Richard my decision: as much as I have little desire to see him now, he's still family and I have at least a moral obligation to him, the old oath I made to Theresa, so I will grant him a generous monthly income. I will set a few conditions, which include no more letters or inappropriate requested to Richard and no more interferences with the marriage under the treat of a legal action from my lawyers. I explain my fiancée the hideous scheme my nephew planned, omitting some details, and I assure him that I was in the dark about the letters: I knew nothing about them and I'm deeply ashamed and sorry he went this far. Richard listens to me carefully and gives me a painful smile as he take my hand into his. "I knew, Zetta. I always knew and I didn't suspect you when I received them, not even for a split second" he sighs. "I trust you, my darling". He just worried about me and he is still concerned because as much as it pains him to say that, my nephew seems dangerous and he has no sympathy for him. I assure him we won't see him anytime soon: after what he did, the things between James and I will never be the same. I don't even know if I will ever be able to forgive him. I repeat the same words to Jaime a few days later and having such a conversation with him is one of the toughest thing in my whole life. I'm angry and disappointed as I speak, wounded in the deep yet tortured by the familiar affection refusing to die inside me. When he close the door behind him, full knowing I don't know when we will see each other again, my heart breaks and I fall sobbing on my knees. My little prince is gone. There is a big fuss in town about the Titanic hearings: American and British authorities are investigating the disaster and the White Star Line company is covered with shame. The hearings are held in New York at Waldorf-Astoria Hotel so I try to keep updated. I spoke to a committing magistrate too: he asked questions about that night to see if I could provide valuable information for the official investigation. It turned out I had none or at least very little to offer him, aside from reporting the questionable decision of lowering half-empty lifeboats and the stubborn refusal to go against it of many officers, like the one I yelled at on the deck. I sign my deposition, which adds up to many others he gathered since the inquiry started. I don't need to testimony at court, he said, he has tons of other witnesses reporting the same issue and he will just add my deposition to the documents to be sent to the judge. "You can go, thank you for your time, Miss Serda" he smiles, vigorously shaking my hand. He praises my heroism but I don't know what he's talking about. Apparently, other witnesses claimed that they owe me their life or saw me protesting on the deck. I'm no hero, I think as my mind runs to the young steward who stayed behind, down in the belly of the sinking ship to keep the light on and give us all a chance to survive. I think his name was Charlie. A few weeks after the beginning of the hearings, about the end of May, I receive a letter from Lucille. She hadn't hear from me since our arrival and she's worried about me, she writes. She had sent me letters but I answered none. She profusely apologises for not waiting for me as she promised but "they had no choice, the chaos was mounting": she hopes this won't be the end of our friendship. Hoping so, she renews her invitation: Richard and I will be her most welcome guests if we fancy joining her and Cosmo for dinner at their apartment whenever it suits us. I don't know how to feel about this. Under different circumstances, it would have filled with joy, maybe relief after all we've been through, now...now things are more complicated than that. Unlike me, Lucille and Cosmo were asked to appear at court during the hearings to verify certain details. They had been all over the press ever since the news spread and I wonder if I'm being a bad friend "abandoning" her in a time like this. The press predictably feasted and is still feasting over the disaster: tragic stories, eye catching headlines, shocking revelations, heartwarming and heartbreaking pictures from the pier: ça vien sans dire, the touching embrace between me and Richard - "reunited lovers" as the caption said - made it to the front page. As weeks went by, my brief appearance was replaced by the new scandal involving nothing less than the Duff-Gordons, not only my personal friends but also a couple of incredibly famous socialites. When I first read it, my heart sank while Richard declared himself disgusted by what journalists write these days. Rumor has it that Lucille, sitting with her husband and secretary on Lifeboat No. 1, commented to her Laura something like, "There is your beautiful nightdress gone" in the aftermath of the sinking. When the Titanic disappeared to the bottom of the sea and poor souls were freezing to death in the ocean, begging us on the lifeboats to come back and save them. I still hear their screams in my nightmares. There's more though: reportedly Cosmo had bribed the lifeboat's crew not to return to save swimmers out of fear the vessel would capsize; he handed checks to them on board of the Carpathia. But Lifeboat No. 1 was designed to carry 40 passengers. Only 12 people were on board when it was lowered unlike the one I was on, filled beyond its capacity. How could an half-empty boat capsize? They could have saved so many lives that night! The thought made my stomach turn to the point that I feel almost nothing when I see the pictures of them during the inquiry: Cosmo looking grim and tensed in his seat and Lucile dressed in black, a mourning dress with a veiled hats, entering the court. I know better than to trust rumours blindly...but I know them. I've known her for ages and, as much as it hurts to say, I can't completely rule out the possibility that for once the press was right. Maybe I'm wrong but I can't vouch for them this time. And doubt is an uncomfortable thing... The final report by the inquiry is more generous than me and clear their names, even if - I'm sure - the general public will be less forgiving. Anyway, Richard is quite fond of the couple, we will surely go visit them... I do not pretend to be fine after what happened on my birthday's night -the sinking, James' betrayal, but I can conceal. I know how to conceal, if need be, in public, in front of people who cannot understand. I'm an actress, a great actress after all. But I feel numb, a ghost of my usual self. During the day I try to keep myself busy. My renaissance requires hard work and commitment as well as a good plan. Sabine and Richard are excellent helpers: I need new projects to work on to make my comeback and an efficient daily schedule to prevent me from drowning in my sorrow. I may conceal it but I dread the time when I have nowhere to run and my mind races back to that memory that fills me with excruciating sadness and guilt. My sweet revolutionary. At night I drink sherry and write letters to Adele. They're passionate, melancholic, tearful. I throw them away in the morning: my words flow on the paper but they ring hollow in the daylight. I don't know what I am supposed to write her. What should I tell her? What could possibly excuse my silence as times go by? I wish I could speak freely what's inside my mind but it's unbelievably difficult. More than she deserves, probably. For some time I tried to convince myself that our little romance on the Titanic was mere attraction, a secret affair favoured by the circumstances: two women growing close, Adele's protectiveness, my heart susceptible to women's beauty and charm just like hers. We found each other and it happened. That's all. But her memory lingers, it never fades away. Never. She always finds a way back to me. At night or during the day, by accident. She's everywhere even if this isn't a place she belongs to. She's in the announcement of a referendum for women's suffrage in Michigan: I read the news and think how excited she must be about it. Maybe she knows it already but I feel a silly urgency to send her the page of the newspaper: your dream may come true after all, see, my love? She's in a gorgeous dress I see hanging on a mannequin in a boutique and I know would fit her perfectly. I have to refrain myself not to buy it and send it to her with a sweet note because I don't care if she needs it, I just want her to have it. She needs beautiful things in her life too. She's in a witty joke I hear in a fancy cafe: I laugh and turn towards Sabine to say "Oh Adele would love this humour" but words die in my throat. When I turn, my cheer has turned into a grimace. Adele isn't here. I don't even know her address here. The thought pains me. I could ask Sabine to find it, I could visit her...but I find myself wondering if it would be the better judgement. I'd give up half my fortune or even more to know about her, even just a quick update. Is she fine? Is she still hurting? Did she and her sister settle down safely? Does she have nightmares at night? She looked so defeated and forlorn on the Carpathia, it pains me to remember seeing the light in her eyes flicker. But maybe this way it will be easier for her to move on. To forget me, if that's what we must get to, no matter how much it hurts. Sometimes I drink myself to a stupor to break the spiral of such thoughts and I'm quite ashamed of myself when Sabine finds me like that in the morning. I mutter nonsense excuses I don't owe her - but I feel like do, she's not a maid, she's my friend - as I hold onto her since I can barely stand on my feet at times and I burst into tears whenever she says: "You have nothing to apologise for, Madam" I do, though. I should - no I must apologise to Adele and Hileni too for disappearing and abandoning them on that pier. I must tell Adele how things really are, how I miss her, it's unbearable... So it's no surprise then that when Richard announces me his idea to postpone the grifter story project I've been working on in favour of a new one, "an homage to the Titanic tragedy", my mind comes find her once again. The project is a wise mix of ambitious opportunism - the sinking is still the talk of the town and people will love it - and genuine concerns. He says I'll not only play the main heroine but also pick the subject, he will just help assessing the script but he wants me to be the one calling the shots on the story to tell. I believe he feels it might be somehow therapeutic for me, aside from the alluring detail of having the star Zetta Serda co-writing an announced success. I consider it for a while, but in the end I write down the Carrem sisters story. I'm fully aware that the picture will hardly be able to bring back to life what it truly happened, the grandeur and the terror. I'm experienced enough to know that the audience can take only that much of the tragedy: they wanna cry and say that they felt as if they were there but they would scream and leave the room if I showed them the truth. A giant ship collapsing in front of you, officers shooting to maintain orders, stewards stubbornly denying desperate passengers their only chance to jump on a lifeboat and to survive, the screams of those who floated in the chilly waters and the dreading silence that followed their unmerciful death. They will never take that much. On the contrary, they will likely enjoy the story of two sisters separated and reunited, prevailing over the impending tragedy threatening to kill them both. It's an heartwarming story with an happy ending and the right amount of pathos and hope. It's also the story of my love that I'm writing down on paper and hand to the posterity. When I present it to Richard, he loves it. He himself couldn't have found a better story, he says, barely containing his excitement. I explain quietly that it's a true story, I just changed the names in respect of the real protagonists of this story. I can only hope Adele won't hate me for this when she sees it. Hate me even more than she's probably doing right now, I frown. I can only hope she will understand.

#titanic storyscape #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele #zetta x adele series

[queerchoicesblog]

do you ever think you’ll finish underwater

Hey Nonny 👋🏻

Thanks for your question and interest in my Titanic SC series! It means a lot: I thought everyone forgot about it as well as the OG already.

To answer your question, as I stated a few weeks ago (I think?), yes I count on finish it: ideally two chapters and an epilogue imagining what happens after the official end.

I cannot tell when I will update it though as I am struggling with inspiration and motivation seeing how little former fans care about that story.

But I love dearly the Zetta & Adele love story and I will be eternally grateful to the app of dreams @playstoryscape for bringing it to life.

So I promise you: I will finish it. Just be a little patient with me 🥺

Thanks again for asking, sweetie!

Stay safe and healthy 💜

To

#nonny asks #underwater series #zetta x adele series #zetta serda #adele carrem #storyscape

[queerchoicesblog]

Dearest, lovely nonny who flooded my ask with a review of my Zetta x Adele Adele fic... your messages got me like this:

THANK YOU FROM THE VERY BOTTOM OF MY HEART ❤

I swear, you made my day. Earlier today I was talking with a friend writer over here how tough and disheartening being a writer here has become.

Messages like yours are a real treasure and a blessing, truly.

Thank you once again, I will answer properly to your questions tomorrow (I'm heading to bed 😴) because they were super interesting consideration on lgbtq lives in the past & present. And they deserve my undivided attention 😊

Hope you are safe and healthy, my dear French neighbour!

And that you will like the final chapter & the epilogue...

#lovely nonnie #i'm touched truly #zetta x adele series

[queerchoicesblog]

I would like to thank u very ver much for the gifts that are your zetta x adele fics, as well as ur harper emery fics!

Im also looving your wlw time after time project 💞💞

Aww, Nonny! 😍

It's been ages since I last received a message like this...I'm grateful and so glad you like my writing projects. I think my heart commitment to the Zetta × Adele series (and story of general) is evident. I liked shaping out the Harper Emery plotline when I still enjoyed Choices a little.

The wlw writing project is important to me not only because it keeps me going in a disgraced year like this but also and most importantly because it's slowly changing me as a writer. I wouldn't say that I'm getting somewhere but it gave me the confidence to create stories, characters of my own where maybe those who know me can see reference to books, movies, eras I love.

And I'm particularly proud of reminding through my little stories that wlw (bi, lesbian etc) have always been here despite the silence they've tried to build around us through the centuries.

#nonny asks #kind nonny #zetta x adele series #harper emery fics #wlw writing project

[queerchoicesblog]

New York, At Last (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series)

So, folks, here’s the new chapter of the series. Thank you so much for your support, hope you enjoy it!

Little disclaimer-favor: especially since the tags don’t seem to be working anymore, if you do enjoy it, please consider supporting the author & sharing this. A little gesture that means a lot!

Word Count: 3000+

Zetta x Adele Tag: @storyscaped​ ​ @storyscapefanficarchive​ @marmolady​ @animus-and-anima​ @hayley-carter19 @escako​  @everlastingchoices​ @indescribablechoices​ @ahrielstuff​ @bornonawdnsday​ @nazario-sayeed​  @h-doodles​ @adele-serda​ @marlcasters​ @brightpinkpeppercorn​  @michelleconnoly​ @charliejane-blog​ @ghost-of-yuri​  @choicesgremlin​  @lanzhansguqin​ @orange-elephants​

Zetta x Adele Series Tag: @eternal-langdon​ @nydeiri​

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13

____________________________________

A thick fog rises and surrenders our ship as we sail towards New York. It lingers there, night and day, as if it's escorting us to our destination. We can hardly see the ocean anymore, we acknowledge its presence by the murmur of the waves, the breathing of the cold water beneath us. The captain must have given order to be careful because we proceed at low speed, "like in a funeral march" I find myself noting one day. I refrain myself from saying that out loud though. We are asked to stay below deck as much as possible as storms are announced. We sail through troubled waters: some of us get sick, others are too shattered to even register the rolling of the ship. The morale on board has crashed since our first day here. Both the crew and the passengers of the Carpathia have offered us help, sympathy and support. Some gave us their coats or whatever clothing item could keep us warm after we lost everything. They didn't ask for anything in return. Others helped searching for missing people: now a list of names is pinned in one of the halls. People check it regularly with a mix of hope and dread: hope to see their friend or loved one again, dread to spot a black cross by the name so dear to them. If someone cannot be found here on the ship is declared perished in the sinking. Unofficially, obviously, the mourning ones can still try and search them when we reach shore but most surrender under the weight of those tiny scribbles. Those black crosses are not just a quick sign on paper, they pierce through their aching hearts.

As our rescue journey is coming to an end, we are all mourning. The lucky ones who were reunited with their families and friends keep a low profile in respect of all those who lost their loved ones. Their grief is overwhelming, you can sense it, even breathe it in the grim silence that fill the night. Poor souls... I feel almost guilty when on our last day on board I accidentally bump into two familiar faces. I was looking for a steward when I collided with...Lawrence. Felix is right behind him. My heart skips a beat as I call out their names. Lawrence smiles at me and I am so relieved that we met again. We hug each other and I inhale the faint perfume of his eau de cologne. They survived, they survived... I repeat those words in my head as I pull Felix in for an embrace too. They both survived: I don't even start imagining what sort of pain would have tortured one of them if the other didn't make it. They wouldn't have allowed it: if there had been no way to save both of them, they would have gone down with the ship together. I know it, I saw it in their eyes when we parted on the deck. They told me how they stayed until there was no time left. Many of those who are here now owe them their lives: they kept directing women and children and even some men to the boats before jumping on the very last lifeboat at the very last minute. I couldn't be more proud of these two unaware heroes I am honoured to call friends. They are going to visit the little boy they rescued and his brother: the woman they entrusted them to is still taking care of them. Others passengers are helping too. No one has understood what language they speak or where they're from, where their parents are but at least they're safe. "That's all that matters now", Felix notes and I agree. If only the world could see what shining beauty my friends hold... Before parting, they ask me about me: could I find a spot on a boat fast? Did I succeed in speaking some sense into the thick skull of that officer? Is James with me? I share my last moments on the ship with them and when I am still in the middle of my answer, Lawrence reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. "Did you find Miss Carrem? Is...is she here?" he asks, concern written all over his face. Felix is grimacing too. Their expression relaxes only when I assure them that yes, we were reunited on the deck and she's now resting with her sister. Lawrence's face color up again as he lets out a deep sigh of relief. "We were so worried, Zetta! When we spotted her on the deck we immediately directed her to the lifeboats and to you...but we weren't sure if you two could find each other in the midst of all that chaos or get on a boat" he explains. "Yes, we pictured the worst...we're so relieved, Miss Zetta, so incredibly relived" Felix continues, smiling. I wonder what I did good in my life to have men like them on my side. Their affection and empathy soothe my troubled soul and make me wish to never part from them. I should invite them more often when we reach shore, yes we should see each other more often...things can change and will change now that we'll be all in New York. I ask them if they want to see Adele: I can wake her, I'm sure she will be more than happy to see them. They assure me it's fine and beg me not wake her. They will visit later maybe but for now they're just happy "she's here safe and sound". "And that you are together again" Lawrence adds with a tired smile. The soft warmth in his voice tells me what I already know: he knows, they know. How could they not? But my secret is safe with them and I am grateful to them for the genuine care they showed to Adele. And well, me. I hug them both one more time then we part ways. I hope to see them very soon. I must invite them over once our lives will slowly go back to a new normal. Maybe this tragedy will make us closer. When I finally find a steward, I am informed that we are approaching shore. "We'll be in New York tonight, ma'am" he announces with an encouraging smile as if to say that our troubles are over. I go back to my group and share the news. Adele and Hileni are still sleeping, only Teo, Jaime and Sabine greet my announcement with a nod but keeps quiet. I know what's going on in their heads, their thoughts are my thoughts: it feels so weird to hear these words after all we've been through. It almost doesn't feel right when so many of us are not here. Even when the news spread among the other survivors I hear no cheer, only sighs: could it be relief or grief, it's hard to tell. Maybe both. A silent question echo in the room: now what? Sabine shakes her head and gives a grim laugh. "I thought I would have been buried in work today, instead..." She looks down at her empty hands: my little Napoleon so efficient and fond of schedules must feel lost now. No scrupulous packing to do, no checking if our belongings are properly gathered or something is missing. She takes her job very seriously and - I realise it now- her job is her life. "Consider this a free day" It's Matteo speaking, he sounds absentminded but then he turns towards Sabine and meets her gaze. "Allow yourself to be the one being served, for once" he adds. He tries to smirk, one of his signature smirk I saw on his face so very often, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He looks tired and troubled just like us. As if on cue, a waitress approaches us and asks if we would like a cup of coffee. I see Sabine barely refraining herself from reaching out to help her: it feels almost unnatural to her being on the other side. The waitress is a young girl, I wonder if she's even twenty. She's chatty: she comments how nice coming home must feel after a journey like ours. She has relatives in New York but never visited the city properly although "it is truly gorgeous, isn't it?". She asks us if it's our final destination and wishes all the very best. She parts from us with an encouraging smile: she will come back later to bring coffee to Adele and Hileni when they wake up. It's evening when we enter the bay and proceed towards the pier, escorted by a scout cruiser. We move to one of the decks only to find it crammed with other survivors. We have to fight our way through the crowd once again to get a spot near the railing. We are all to see with our own eyes if our journey has truly come to an end. If we're truly safe. The lights of New York flicker in the distance despite the heavy rain. Now I know it's over, all the horrors and fears are finally over. A lump forms in my throat at the sight of my city, my home but I shake it off. I reach for Hileni's hand and guide her upwards, pointing her the sea of lights on the shore. "There, sweetheart, look! See those lights? It's America" Three long blasts of the ship horns frame my words. The young girl squeezes her eyes to see better; after a moment, a tiny smile crosses her lips and relief washes over me. "It's...shiny!" she notes. "Shiny is definitely one word for it" I agree, smiling at her naive awe. For a moment, I am reminded of myself, my young self when I first saw the city that eventually became my home. I wager I was around the same age of Hileni. And just like her, that sight filled me with a mix of wonder, adrenaline and vague hope. "Adal, come here, come see! It's New York!" she says, turning and calling for her sister. Adele is right behind. Hearing her name, she immediately approaches us. "So, this is it?" she asks, placing her hands on Hileni's shoulders and pressing a quick kiss on top of her head. "So unimpressed, huh, Adele?" I tease her but when our eyes meet a soft smile is on my lips. "I promise it gets better, give it time" Without thinking twice, I wrap my arm around her waist and move a bit closer. "Welcome to New York" I add and for some reason I feel my eyes welling with tears. My love keeps quiet but a weak smile draws on her face. She rests her head on my shoulder and we both look into the distance, towards our new lives to come. There is a grim irony in how bittersweet the end of our journey is. We were supposed to make a glorious arrival, a triumphant march towards America on the "Queen of the Sea" but there is nothing of that fantasy now. The Titanic sleeps at the bottom of the ocean with many poor souls, too many poor souls and we're proceeding towards our initial destination sombrely in a cold rainy New York night. The fog hasn't lifted completely so we must look like a ghost ship. A ghost ship approaching in the mist filled with us, ghosts among ghosts. The darkness around us is lit up only by the city lights at the horizon and the flashlights of cameras of a bunch of photographers on a tug boat following us to the pier. It goes without saying that the Titanic tragedy will be the talk of the town for weeks, months maybe...but I wish those vultures could have refrained themselves until we reach shore. We proceed in front of them in mournful silence, indifferent to the flashlights hitting our faces. When we finally dock and the vibration of the engines beneath our feet subsides, we all stand in disbelief. It's over, it's truly over now. We're in America. The Carpathia passengers are disembarked first: the Captain is afraid the scene will become tumultuous as we survivors, the main attraction for the press, will appear. His concerns are well founded judging by the loud buzz coming from beneath us. When it's our turn to go I take a deep breath and give one last grateful look to the crew waving us goodbye and whispering good wishes as we pass by. Heavy raindrops run down my face as I walk down the gangway but I hardly notice. As my feet touch land I shiver: I'm home yet...I feel like in a dream. I hold Adele's hand tight and we move cautiously forward into the crowd. I look around and all I see is a multitude of lost souls and flashlights. I don't hear what the men of the press are shouting, what the land officers are shouting back: all around their voices blend together and I can't distinguish who is saying what in this dissonant choir. "Let them pass, give them space for Christ's sake!" "What can you tell us about the sinking?" "A few words for the Tribune, please!" "Blankets, warm blankets, let me give you blanket, Sir" "How many people died?". I keep walking under the rain, following Sabine and Hileni proceeding arm in arm ahead of us. I think back at all those we left behind, like Charlie, my love's poor brave friend, and Mr. Andrews, defeated by his sense of guilt yet fighting till the end. All those desperate people screaming in the icy waters before surrendering to their grim fate. I think back of the upset young woman who was searching for her beloved Henry: I wonder where she is now and I pray a kind soul is taking care of her. We stop to let the medical personnel pass. They're holding a stretcher with a man buried under a pile of wool blankets. There are bandages around his head and his eyes don't seem to register what's happening around him. Another follows with a woman begging through tears the midwife holding her hand to call her husband. I shake away those thoughts before they can pierce my soul and I let my eyes wander through the crowd as we proceed. James is not far and so is Matteo. A few months ago I was standing on a pier just like this one, maybe this one waiting to start my journey. I was so relieved back then to get a break, to run away for a while...to see James again. So curious to see the "Ship of Dreams" everyone was talking about on my return trip. It all feels so hollow and distant now as if it happened in another life. Or maybe it's just me...I feel changed. I turn to Adele. My love looks like a stranded and forlorn Robin Crusoe setting foot on a foreign land: she keeps walking but she's lost, almost afraid of these new chaotic surroundings. She looks so fragile and different from the bold girl who stepped into my suite not so long ago. I feel like I could break her now if I hugged her too tight. I give her hand an encouraging squeeze and it seems to make her snap out of her misery. "Madam, the officers need to get the passengers names before letting everyone go, we asked around" Sabine's voice ground me. She and Hileni are looking at me, both getting soaked with rain. I'm grateful to my ever efficient little Napoleon for taking charge of the situation. "There are so many of us" Adele's sister notes grimly and she's right. No matter how few of us survived the sinking, the pier is packed and the press pushing in is of little help. "It will take hours to clear the pier" I sigh. That's when I notice Hileni trying and failing to hide a shiver. I am eternally thankful to the fan giving me one of her wintry coats on board as tonight New York is getting colder and colder and the rain keeps wetting our clothes, making it harder to fight the chill. I must reward my generous fan, I got her name and address I think... Adele's hand adjusts into mine and it's as cold as ice. She still has her blue jacket on and a thin blanket completely soaked around her shoulders. "You're cold" I wince. She tries to avoid my gaze, dismissing my concerns. She's just fine, she assures me but I know her well enough to detect a lie when I hear it. Even a white lie. "You too, poor thing" I add, addressing Hileni who wraps her blanket a bit tighter around her in full response. Maybe she wants to say she's fine too but I anticipate her. "No, no, we'll do something about it. We have to wait for a while here, huh? No sense in freezing us all in the meantime" I turn towards Sabine and add, with renewed resolution: "They're passing around warm blankets, right? You two stay here, Sabine and I will get some then we'll see what to do next" My little Napoleon gives me a firm nod and addresses some comforting words to Hileni, adjusting her blanket. "You don't have to, we're fine..." Adele voice is low and somber even if she's doing her best to conceal how shattered she feels inside. Her soft yet unconvincing smile makes my heart ache. She'll be good again when we'll be away from this chaos...it will take some time maybe, but she will be fine, truly fine again. I hate the idea of parting from her side but I'll be damned if I won't take care of her and her sister. Please allow me to, my sweet love. I cup her face and caress her damp cheek. She instinctively leans to the touch as if a little warmth was all she needed. "I won't hear it, love. Stay here, I'll be back before you know it" I whisper, a tender smile on my lips. Before taking my leave, I press a quick kiss on her forehead. Then I venture with Sabine through the messy crowd. With one last look above my shoulder I see the Carrem sisters holding hands and sharing a weak smile. Surprisingly, finding stewards with blankets is tougher thanI first thought. People are gathering and looking for other passengers and missing ones, indisciplined photographers pushing their way in to get a shot of the misery of the survivors. As we fight our way through and keep searching, I try to come up with a plan. "Once we sort all this bureaucracy out, we'll find a way to get out of here" I reason out loud with Sabine. I barely hear her answer. "I'm sure your fiancée Mr King is right here waiting for you, Madam-" "Adele and her sister can stay in the blue and green rooms...they should be comfortable there, what do you think?" My mind is racing as I scan the crowd. "The blue and the green rooms sound perfect, Madam. I'll have them ready in no time whe-" "Oh no need to, Sabine! I'm sure they're already in excellent state if I know you" We stop as an officer kindly asks if he could get our names. He smiles when I say mine. "Who wouldn't know your name, Miss Serda? It's good to see you here, safe and sound" A fan, obviously. After Sabine drops hers and he checks both on a list, we ask him where we can find blankets or coats for our friends. Apparently, we're not far from his colleague! We speed up following his directions and I think I can see a man handing out wool plaids to shivering passengers. "This way, Sabine, I see him!" I cheer. Then, out of the blue, a familiar voice calls my name. "Zetta!" I stop and turn towards the sound to see... "R-Richard?" I...completely forgot about him. I don't know how but I forgot about him. It only makes sense he would be here, I would have been to even if... I- I just erased such thought. He pushes his way through the crowd and runs towards me. He's crying, it's not just rain wetting his face. He pulls me into a tight embrace and bury his head in the crook of my neck. I feel awful for forgetting about him when he starts sobbing like a child, unafraid to show his feelings, his vulnerability. I hug him back and whispers words that I hope will make him stop crying and feel a bit better. No need to cry, I'm here. I'm here, Richard. It seems to work as he loosens up his arms and face me. It's the first time I see his face in months and vice versa he mine. I wonder what he sees. His hair are soaked, dark circles loom under his eyes and his lower lip still trembles a little as he cups my face and bring our forehead together. "I was so scared when I heard the news, Zetta, so scared..." his voice is shaky as he speaks. "I-I pictured the worst, I couldn't sleep, I-" "Oh Richard..." I wince. "I tried to get in touch with the Carpathia, to send Marconigrams, I only wanted to know if you survived but the communication lines were overcrowded-" I brush away a strand of wet hair from his face. "It's fine, darling, I'm here, I'm alive, we-" "You don't know how happy and relived I am that you are, Zetta! I don't know what I would have done if you weren't on this ship, if you died that night...I truly don't know-" He embraces me again just when flash powder ignites around us. Journalists. I don't even have to wait for their shoutings to know it's the greedy press. "Zetta, Zetta!" "A word for the press!" "Would you make a statement about the tragedy?" "How is it to be back?" "Is it true that the Titanic collided with an iceberg?" No, I can't do this. I don't want to. I hear Richard groaning like a wounded animal before turning towards them. "Please, leave her be, she's just arrived-" he says but his plea goes unanswered. Journalists are a famelic species and awfully stubborn. "Oh c'mon, you have no decency? Go away, I beg you" Richard rises a hand towards the cameras to protect us from the flashlights. His voice now betrays hints of anger but he's so broken that his words sound more like a prayer. I doubt this will work, knowing those vultures. He reaches for my hand and turns towards me, leaning close to be heard over the shoutings. "Come with me, lets get you out of here. James and his valet are with John, follow me" He pulls my hand gently but I freeze. I freeze as my mind race towards Adele. Adele waiting for me on the pier with Hileni. Adele to whom I promised to be back 'before she knows it'. "What?" It's all I can manage to say. My breath catches in my throat. Richard must think I couldn't hear what he says. He repeats his words and pulls my hand again. I don't move. "No, no I-I can't, I must go back, my...my friends are wait-" I mutter but I'm cut short by those vultures again. A flashlight blinds me: the vivid light hurt my tired eyes to the point I can't see for a moment, I cover my eyes and I'm momentarily surrounded by darkness only. I hear Richard shouting back at the journalist, he's angry and exasperated now. Then he wraps an arm around my waist and guides me away, shielding me with his body from the cameras. "This way, Zetta, Mademoiselle Sabine...." My feet move against my will. I don't wanna leave the pier yet I'm too exhausted to resist. I try though but my attempt is weak and can nothing against Richard's desperate determination to take us away from this mournful chaos. When I finally gets my vision back, I'm standing in front of two cars. John, Richard's right hand, is right there, holding an umbrella for Teo and James. He tips his hat respectfully and say words I don't listen but that I presume are some kind of welcome back, so glad to see you here or things like that. My eyes fall on my travel companions: Matteo displays a dignified yet somber demeanour -I wouldn't expect nothing less from him- and winces at me as I meet his gaze while Jaime...the expression on his face is completely numb. He's distant, somewhere far away from this pier and awfully quiet, the quietest I've ever seen him. Richard encourages us all to go before the journalists are back and guides me and Sabine towards a car, Teo and my nephew will ride in John's one. He opens the door and help my little Napoleon in then me. I throw one last look to the pier before taking my seat but I can't distinguish a single face. The sky is getting darker and the crowd is slow to disperse. I stretch my neck but it's useless...I can't see my love even if I know she's there somewhere out of view. Richard hurries in after me and hastily gestures at the driver to start the engine as the lights of the cameras approach fast. When the car cautiously moves towards the boulevard, he takes my hand into his and rises it to his lips. "It will all be alright, my love, I promise you. I'll take care of you..." I register the kiss on the back of my hand but I can barely hear him. I'm not here. I am sitting here in this car disappearing into the night but I'm not here, not truly. My mind is empty. All I can think of is Adele. My Adele waiting in vain for me in the rain. My Adele...

#titanic storyscape #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele #zetta x adele series

[queerchoicesblog]

“Sometimes our secrets are what make our lives worth living. No matter with what high cost they come attached” You have every right to be proud of that sentence. It’s beautiful put, without sounding unatural or rehearsed or fake. I does take some changes to go from loud, bold, unappologetic (and jailed for it) suffragette to that quiet acceptance of Zetta’s love, only behind close doors. (Willl your write their reunion from Adele’s point of view eventually ?). Being with someone in secret is /15

It is definitely a HUGE change to the point that I think it surprised even Zetta herself!

Yet...it makes sense to me. Again, Adele has a lot to take in at her arrival in America but I believe that even I can quite picture her having mixed feelings about Surviving the Titanic, eventually - after much internal debating and suffering - she comes to the same conclusion probably Zetta meant as the moral of the story: in the end, what matters most is our heart affections, be they family, a lover or whoever we care about. To achieve her own, to make it last requires a sacrifice: a life kept secret, away from the cameras and prying eyes. Something no one would accept easily even back the I think! But one I believe many members of our community who lived in past eras eventually resolved to. Maybe with secret engagements and marriages, or being the true partner in a lavender marriage (a feature of another story I have in mind). If that's the price to pay to be with someone you love.

I know we all would have loved a brave Zetta, breaking off her 'business arrangement' engagement and being openly with Adele. But that way she would have truly lost everything: consensus, reputation and most importantly a career she has sacrificed so much for. It's not fiction, it's something very real: it happened to a popular actor of the Thirties who refused a publicity marriage because he already had a partner, a man. I will add the link to his story if I find it again but yeah, the movie industry (and society back then in general) was brutal. Can you imagine the immense amount of guilt someone would feel to marry another only to save themselves and being forced to offer the one they truly love an existence behind closed doors? When the magazines are full of pictures with your bethroted and glorifying you as a champion of femininity/masculinity and the rampant heterosexuality you don't belong to.

As you noted, we're lucky things are different right now. Even if I believe it's a matter of generations? I don't want to generalise but I've known a few fellow lgbtq+ over forty who are not out. I think younger generations, the kids especially, are more likely to get out of the closet sooner. Hope it makes sense!

Richard was an interesting character: surprisingly I would have loved to get to know him a bit more in the original book! Apparently you only get to talk to him at the party if Zetta dies. He looks a bit infatuated to me but I don't know if it's true romantic love for Zetta or her artistic projection so to speak since he mentioned falling for her when he saw her in a movie. I believe his romantic feelings cooked a bit when he realised she wasn't receptive of his affections. He tries to be romantic and all though. But I believe he genuinely cares for her and his affection is somehow real seeing how he trusted her when James asked for money. I'm lead to think he kind of sees Zetta as a Muse and their partnership as a romantic/artistic one, not the conventional marriage.

Yeah, I wasn't sure if it was the right call or adding that scene, that confession I was getting off character. Looking back at it, it makes sense to me that she would follow Adele's path of courage (in her own way) before reuniting with her..

#french nonny #asked #lgbtq issues #zetta x adele series #richard king

[queerchoicesblog]

The Carpathia (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series, Ch. 13)

So, folks, here’s the new chapter of the series. Thank you so much for your support, hope you enjoy it!

Little disclaimer-favor: especially since the tags don’t seem to be working anymore, if you do enjoy it, please consider supporting the author & sharing this. A little gesture that means a lot!

Word Count: 3000+

Zetta x Adele Tag: @storyscaped​ ​ @storyscapefanficarchive​ @marmolady​ @animus-and-anima​ @hayley-carter19 @escako​  @everlastingchoices​ @andrxrneda @aestheticsayeed @indescribablechoices​ @ahrielstuff​ @bornonawdnsday​ @nazario-sayeed​  @h-doodles​ @adele-serda​ @marlcasters​ @brightpinkpeppercorn​ @nightwhite13 @ramenwithaspoon @michelleconnoly​ @charliejane-blog​ @ghost-of-yuri​  @choicesgremlin​ @shadeofangelus @lanzhansguqin​ @orange-elephants​

Zetta x Adele Series Tag: @eternal-langdon​ @nydeiri​

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12

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The lights of dawn warm our cold cheeks as hope kindles again in our hearts after the horrors of the night. A wave of relief wash over us all as we see another steamer, our savior, slowly reduce its speed until it comes to an halt not far from us. Waiting for us. Those who still have an ounce of energy in them cry tears of joy: never such sight has been more blessed. We are safe. We did it. Thank God we did it. "Is...is that real?" Adele's voice is barely a whisper. She hugs herself as she tries to sit straight, her eyes searching the horizon. I am about to say something but her sister anticipates me. Turning her head back towards us after spotting the ship, she gives a little cheer. "It's a ship! It's a ship!" she confirms with another cheer. Then she smiles broadly at Adele and meets my eyes again. "You were right, ma'am! You were right!"

The relived happiness exuding from here is heartwarming. You could see that could she, she would jump up and down and hug everyone at reach. The gleam in her eyes is almost blinding: she put all the fears of the night behind her and is now focusing back on the moment. On living. On this new dawn. "Why, I'm always right" I say jokingly, winking. I'm surprised I can still do that after tonight. But after all, a few hours ago I was winking and sharing a little joke with my love at the bottom of the Grand Staircase. Despite everything, despite the impending tragedy. "And it's Zetta for you, honey" I add as the officer stands and give our oarsmen the order to row us towards the steamship. It takes time to coordinate all the lifeboats in this sea of ice. We can see it now in the morning light: we're surrounded by a web of icebergs just like the one I saw with horror from the deck. They're everywhere, cruel testament of the mournful events of the night. Why no one spotted it? Why were we racing at high speed? I decide to leave my questions unanswered and hug my love as we move again. They don't matter now. All that matters is that we're alive. It takes hours and hours to line all the vessels alongside the steamship called 'Carpathia' and bring us all abroad. Which is easier said than done. Those who can climb up rope ladders, others are hoisted up in slings and the children in mail sacks. Our vessel is among the last ones to be boarded so when I finally set foot on the main deck of the ship, it is already crowded with passengers from the Titanic. As I take a few steps forward, the scenes of joy I witness move me to the point that I distinctly feel a lump forming in my throat and my eyes welling. I probably needed this: thee has been a moment I started losing hope to see this beautiful dawn. And this sight is...another dawn, in its own way. Families and friends reunited and hugging each other, cupping their faces and crying all the tears they've suppressed so far. It's a balsam to my aching heart. I hear someone saying something near me but I cannot tell if they're talking to me. I turn and a stewardess is standing at my side, handing me a wool blanket with a gentle smile. I smile back at her and wrap the blanket around my shoulders. I am freezing despite James's jacket so I am eternally grateful to her when a little warmth embraces me. I savour the feeling for a moment then I search my companions. They are all standing a few steps away. Hileni pulled Adele into a tight hug as Sabine is gathering blankets for them. Matteo and Jamie awkwardly stand side by side. Jamie is saying something I cannot hear that makes Teo shake his head but my nephew insists. He looks like he's begging him. It seems to be important...I can only hope he's not being unreasonable again. I walk towards my dear ones and approach my little Napoleon. Dark circles frame her bright eyes and mine too, probably. The night was rough, to put it mildly. We share a tired smile then I hug her. She tenses up at first, not expecting it, but soon relaxes in my arms. We're soon approached by another steward who invites us to follow him. They're gathering the rescued passengers in the dining rooms and serving coffee. We share a look and oblige him. We leave the deck and follow him and other passengers down a series of corridors and stairs. We must look like ghosts to the Carpathia's passengers stepping back at our sight. They wanted to witness this historical moment but they didn't know we would look that bad, I read it on their bewildered faces. When we finally reach one of the dining room a waitress welcomes us with a sympathetic smile and guides us inside. The room is almost full, only a bunch of table are still available. We all follow her, except James and Teo. We are already heading towards the table the waitress pointed when they leave. Last thing I hear from them is Jamie asking directions for the infirmary then they're gone. I'm too exhausted to inquiry further: if they're hurt or sick, the ship doctors will take care of them. We will check on them later. The waitress invites us to take a seat into a table nearby, before turning to attend other passengers. The table is a bit small for all of us but we hardly notice. We seat in silence until steamy cups of coffee are served. I take a huge gulp that almost burn my tongue but it's...resuscitating. The hot coffee injects new life in my veins. Surprisingly, Hileni is the one breaking the silence. "I've...I've heard that it was your birthday yesterday, ma' - I mean, Zetta" she says after clearing her throat. It's still quite weird to her to call me by my name only or so it seems to me by the way she stutters over it. "Belated congratulations" Hileni adds with a sheepish smile, her eyes wandering from me to Adele as if checking if she said the right thing. I wonder what exactly she knows about us, how much my love told her. Not knowing if I'm just an employer or something more than that in her mind, I thank her and flash her a grateful smile: I almost forgot yesterday was my day. I raise my cup and repeats in my best acting voice the words I said at my party: "Thank you, old friends and new, for being here with me to celebrate my twentieth birthday" They ring a bit hollow now, away from the Café Parisien. Adele and Sabine smile weakly, probably reminiscing when they first heard them, while Hileni looks at me with amused curiosity, raising her own cup. This time I change my next line, though. "...And that's all that matters now. All of us being here, together, drinking coffee at this table on another ship" I embrace all of them with one look. "It's the best birthday gift I could ask for after last night. I wouldn't trade it with anything" I add softly and God knows I mean every word. It's the first time that I see Sabine almost on the verge of tears at my kind words. I place my hand on her shoulder and squeeze it gently as she tries to shake the lump in her throat off taking a gulp of coffee. I continue sharing details of what a beautiful work my little Napoleon and Adele did with the decorations with Hileni. I know it may sound silly -some would even say disrespectful maybe- now talking about those things but my mind is frozen and it's the only happy thing that comes into my mind at the moment. For some reason I feel like I should talk, say something even little things like that to prevent us from drowning in our sorrow. I know that moment will come and I dread it: when it will all sink in, we will be shattered and we will need each other. For now I must try to fill the silence, the void...to patch our wounds even if temporarily. Adele is awfully quiet but her sister listens with interest and...gratitude, I cannot tell. Sabine tries to recover, sipping her coffee and adjusting her blanket. I'm telling Hileni that I will teach her how to waltz too when we will be in America and recovered from this tragic night, that Sabine and I will show them both around when someone startles me. All of us, to be honest. A hand grabs my shoulder and I turn to see a young woman standing at my side. Her hair and overall look dishevelled, she either refused or let go of her blanket as she's just wearing an unbuttoned wool coat. It takes me a moment to recognise the young lady Sabine and I bumped into as we ran to the promenade and saw the iceberg. I suddenly remember as a flash her walking past us at the arm of a young man. Now the look on her face is no longer numb...what's in her eyes is pure dread and frantic despair. "Pardon me, ladies, but I was wondering if you could help me? I'm looking for someone, maybe you've seen him. Here's a picture of him!" Both her voice and her hands shakes as she show us a miniature picture on the inside of her necklace. The young gentleman who was with her on the deck. In the picture he's wearing a uniform and a dignified smile is curling his lips. I grimace as we take a look and she continues, almost feverishly. "Name's Henry, Henry Atherton. He served in the Navy and...and he has quite an accent when he speaks, he's from Liverpool..have you seen him? We separated on the deck, he said he would get the next lifeboat I- I didn't want to go without him but he insisted saying we will be meet again when rescued but I can't find him anywhere, have you seen him?" My heart sinks as we all grimly shake our head saying that sadly no, we didn't see his Henry. Her face falls too but she won't surrender so soon. How long has she been searching for him? I wince at the thought of it. Sabine suggests her to go to the main deck: many survivors are still there or to ask directions for the other dining rooms. The young woman nods frantically and announces that she will go back to the deck. "Godspeed, we will come find you if we see him, Miss...?" I add as she's already resumed her search. She turns back and share her name before fighting her way through the crowd. Silence falls at our table as we share un uneasy look. I noticed a ring at her finger, I wonder if they're married, maybe even newlyweds. Maybe they decided to honeymoon on the Ship of Dreams...I pray she will find her Henry and her heart won't be broken in such a tragic way. In the days that follow, three days that resemble a haze, we soon realize that so many hearts broke or are bound to be shattered: so few of us made it to the Carpathia. Which means too many poor souls went to their watery grave. Fathers, husbands, wives, friends, crew, maids...even children. I hear that lifeboat 12 was filled with the corpses of those who froze to death on the vessels waiting for our rescue and abandoned there. I'm grateful I had already left the deck by that time and was spared such a sight. On a bright note, it seems the officer who came back to look for survivors manage to save three people in the end. The joyful hugs of sweet reunions of the first day become rare as hopes die when so many loved ones fail to reappear in the crowd. One of them is Henry: if he was here now, the poor girl would have no reason to sob uncontrollably in the arms of a maid. As we sail towards New York our hearts fill with a weird mix of relief of being alive and sorrow for all the lives lost at sea. Sabine takes charge of our group. I remember she mentioning being used to grief as she buried her family when she was young, and she tries her best to comfort me and the others. She tries to keep us busy, no matter how silly the tasks she suggests sound: "if the hands are busy working, mind aches less and heals faster", she explains, probably translating a motto a wise relative used to say to her. So she braids Hileni's hair and converses with her in French, or suggests card matches or literally anything that would prevent us from be quiet. Teo and Hileni sometimes oblige and joins her while James is ever absent. Always somewhere else, always lost in his own thought as if losing himself in a stupor. I wish I could talk to him but I have no words for him. Not now, at least: the wound is still too fresh. I return him his jacket and quickly hug him but that's all I can do for him. The one who concerns me most is Adele, surprisingly. The girl who left me speechless with her silver tongue during our short trip is now as quiet as a tomb. She tries to shake away her sadness when Hileni is around but the light in her eyes is fading. It's a terrible thing to see and it makes my heart aches even more. I find the idea of separating from her unbearable and I can only hope my closeness helps her somehow...even if I start doubting it. I escort her around the ship for walks because I can't bear the thought of her succumbing to her grief. I hold her close, uncaring of what others may think, but she's a ghost, a shadow of her usual self. I try not to think of what awaits me in America and make sure she eats, sleep, survive. I caress her hair hoping my presence is of some comfort to her. Maybe America will do her good too as it did for me. After the first year with Franz, that is. Maybe a change of scenery, a new job away, a new place to belong will help her moving on. Away from her past in England, from danger and this watery graveyard. I hope so...I can only hope so... One night I wake up before dawn and see her spot empty. A wave of dread runs down my spine as the worst thoughts crowd my mind. The others are sleeping, they didn't notice. Without thinking twice, I wrap a blanket around my shoulders and start looking for her, stopping every member of the crew on my way. Have they seen her? It's one of them telling me that he thinks he saw a girl meeting my description heading towards the main deck. I ran there full speed as I picture the worst: Adele diving overboard, Adele disappearing or freezing in the chilly night...but Adele is doing nothing of that. She's just...crying. She's crying, hugging her knees on a bench facing the ocean. Tears stream down her cheeks and she looks into the distance, into the darkness. I notice an officer nearby, probably wondering whether he should intervene, but when our eyes meet I gesture him I know the girl and he could resume his patrol. I walk towards her trying my best not to upset her. She doesn't seem to acknowledge my presence, lost in her own thoughts and sorrow. When I'm close enough, I reach out and caress her hair. My touch is gentle but sadly I startle her anyway. She looks up and meet my gaze: her eyes are puffed and red, I wonder how long she's been here alone on the desert deck. I smile down at her and nod to make room for me. She hesitates for a moment then scoot over and let me sit beside her. I wrap the blanket around her too and pull her close. We don't have to talk now, I can stay here, quiet and let her cry but she doesn't have to be alone. I kiss her forehead and caress her cheek: I'm right here, my love. Adele rests her head on my shoulder, grateful that I'm not forcing her to find words for the grief she's mourning. She holds on to me, wrapping her arms around my waist as if I am an anchor, her anchor in the storm shaking her soul. I stroke her back as her tears soak our blanket but I don't care. What I care and hope is she will feel a bit better after this: her wounds will take time to heal completely but grief needs tears at some point. When her breath slows down and normalises again, I sigh in relief: the storm is subsiding. That's when she speak, her voice hoarse from crying. Her words flow like waves and I'm glad she's opening up and not letting her sorrow eating her out. She's scared and broken. The horrors of that night are still vivid just like the memories of those left behind. The future is uncertain: she has lost everything, even the little she had, her savings...what are they gonna do in America? She blames herself: it's all her fault, she should have never dragged Hileni into this, how can her sister forgive her? However, I feel the real question here is how my love will forgive herself... I would like to say something but she continues. She has lost everything, including the only friends she made on board. "You and Sabine excluded, obviously" she adds, making me smile a little. I ask her who she's referring to. With a heavy sight, she explains she has not seen her cabinmate ever since. They parted ways on the ship, the water was rising fast in the Turkish Baths when she gave her friend directions to the decks. Adele is worried she didn't make it. "She broke her leg in the collision" she explains grimly before adding. "She provided the posters and pictures for your party. She...she had this dress made for me" Oh right, I think I remember. The cabinmate who is a huge fan of mine and works for Maison Lucille? I ask if it's Corinna she's talking about. "Her real name is Lena" she says but I glad to see her lips curl into a weak smile at my question. Then her eyes fall on her blue jacket and she goes quiet again. She categorically refuses to take it off. Ever, not even to replace it with something warmer. A sudden realisation hits me. I ask her if another friend gave it to her even if I already know the answer. So that's how I learn about Charlie Stoke, brave young steward who helped my love without never asking anything back. A fast friendship as it happens on ships, a friendship tragically interrupted. They parted ways in the engine room, she says. As soon as I hear it, I turn her to face her. My stomach turns at the mere picture of it. "The engine room? You went down there when the ship was sinking?" I ask searching her eyes. I am grateful I get to know this now: if I had known back then, I would have been shattered, utterly defeated. My foolish desperate love... "Yes, all the corridors were flooded and it was the only way out, he said. He was...right" she explains then she lowers her eyes and fresh tears run down her cheeks. "He didn't join you on the deck..." I wince, connecting the dots. No, he stayed down there to help the firemen keeping the lights on till the very last minute. That poor boy gave his life to save our, so many other lives who will never hear once of him. I immediately understand why he and Adele became so close friends in such a short time, two selfless and idealist gems casting a light so bright in this delusional world. I suddenly wish I got the chance to know this Charlie, we were strangers yet so close at my party... I caress my love's face as she regrets not saving him. She tried to stop him but he didn't listen to her. But then, maybe he would have been furious to her for not respecting his decision, his sacrifice. He allowed her to stay a bit longer but then encouraged her to go to the boats and survive this ordeal. "And I respect his decision, he saved my life and Matteo and Hileni but I feel...so lonely now. Without him and I know it's selfish of me when he-" Her voice breaks as her grief strikes hard. I pull her into an embrace and cradle her into my arms. I'm so sorry, my dear love, I'm so terribly sorry... When we part, I brush her hair away from her face, gently, and lean closer and kiss her tears away. No one is in sight or near enough to notice us. Then, I meet Adele's troubled gaze. It softens as I cup her face, stroking her wet cheeks with my thumb. "You are not alone, Adele, no matter how lonely you feel in the aftermath of this tragedy. You have Hileni and it's because of you, thanks to you she's here, quietly sleeping belowdecks. You went down to the belly of that ship and brought her to safety. You saved her. And Teo: you remember how you stood up for him with that officer? You fool" I smile tenderly at her, even if my forehead had certainly covered with cold sweat back then. "And Sabine! I'm pretty sure she has a liking for my former secretary. Tomorrow or when we reach shore we will try and find your cabinmate too, huh? If she's anything like you, I bet she's here somewhere. And...most importantly-" I take a pause: I want her to remember what I'm gonna say next. "You have me, Adele. You will always have me. I don't want to part from you anytime soon. I'll find a way, we'll find a way and- and maybe I can help you starting anew in New York, huh? I would gladly do it, if you let me. No, don't give me that look, my dear suffragette, I know you're an independent woman, I just wanna help" Adele suppresses a giggle at my last comment but I'm sure my words moved her. In full response, she reaches out and places her hand over mine. I follow her gesture and intertwine our fingers after one last stroke to her cheek. I look down at our hands as I choose carefully what to say. "I still want to believe that a renaissance is about to come. Mine, yours" I search her eyes again. "It's always darkest before the dawn, sweetheart, but our renaissance is just out there. I'm sure of it" Adele ponders my words then offers me a weak smile where I sense a little sparkle of hope. She rests her head on my shoulder again, pacified, and asks me if we can stay there a bit longer. Who am I to say no to my troubled Angel? "Tell me about New York. Is it bigger than London?" she whispers, cuddling up to me. I smile to myself at the thought of the city that I call home. The idea of sharing it with Adele makes me unbelievably happy. I tell her of the boulevards and high buildings, so high they look like they're touching the sky. Then the parks, my beloved Central Park, and the theatres, the cafes and restaurants, the movie theatres...the atmosphere. I have never been in a city like that. It's thrilling, vibrant but also quiet and comforting. You just need to know where to find what you look for. I savour the feeling of joyful anticipation of guiding my love through the streets and my favourite spots. To host her at my place and chat freely with her, not needing to refrain our affection. A smile is still lingering on my lips as I conclude my speech and press a quick kiss on the crown of her head. "You'll love it, Adele. I'll show you"

#storyscape titanic #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele #zetta x adele series

[queerchoicesblog]

Did I check your blog several times awaiting the new chapter ? And did I re-read the whole serie, willing to get more and more of your story and your wonderful writing ? You can bet I did ! I've started coming to your blog because of Choices' fanfictions, stayed for the poetic flow of your words and while it's a wonder to see you thrive in those orignal stories of yours (I'm partial to the Belle Epoque one, as a French woman myself) I'm excited to see those beautiful Storyscape characters 1/

At last, here I am, sweet nonny 😊

First of all, you have no idea how your messages made me happy: THANK YOU! 😊❤

I truly loved Storyscape and miss it so much: how nice it would have been to cheer us up or at least distract us during these trying months.

And you're French! So nice, your language is utterly gorgeous! I can only hope I'm not butchering it in my fics, my French is bad sadly 😔

As for your questions, Surviving the Titanic, and what title Zetta would have chosen if she had to. Well, as you said, going through the traumatic experience even if in fiction must be hard for her yet she agrees all the same, setting it as the beginning of her renaissance. Judging by the plot of the original book, the whole idea of the movie seems to come from Richard: he's ambitious, young. I believe he genuinely cares for Zetta but it sounds like a lifetime occasion screaming easy success. So the title is simple, straight to the point, in line with the titles of the pictures back then.

I like to think that Zetta's agreement came after much consideration: is it the right thing to do? Since the story of the picture is so clearly inspired to Adele and Hileni, I headcanon Zetta eventually agreed on the project and taking charge of the script. That way to her eyes she could make a proper compromise: avoiding mere commercial exploitation of the tragedy and turning it into an homage to Adele. Also, she's in the business for too long to ignore that a story like that was all the audience could get of that night. Probably, if she could have picked the title, she would have added a bit of poetry and focused on the main characters? Surviving the Titanic sounds a bit impersonal...

As for Zetta's six months long silence. Yeah, at first, it didn't make sense to me even if I get the authors probably looked for the dramatic suspense between the arrival and the party: it seems to be a common feature for all the LIs. I tried to read through the lines of the movie party dialogue.

This seems to be the source of Zetta's torment. She stated that she had tried to put her feelings down into words for Adele but she never came up with a good answer.

When I read it the first time, I thought she wanted to break up with us but when I picked the "we should end things" option, she was quite upset and hurt. So it's not what she meant all along, I think. After that playthrough, her line sounds more like a squeal of pain. She wants to be with Adele, she loves her but must marry Richard to save her career so what she can offer to a free spirit like Miss Carrem? I think she feels guilty, desperately looking for a way not to lose Adele but not knowing why.

I will answer about dear Lawrence in the next bunch of asks 😉

As for your consideration over living as a member of the lgbtq community, I must say I have a soft spot for stories (either real or fictional) of wlw/mlm/trans people back in the old days or from a different era when they probably felt even lonelier or more hopeless and self doubting than us. I wish I could hug them tight and assure them that they are not alone and unloved/unlovable as they thought. And that decades, centuries after we live better lives: we can marry each other in many countries unlike back them, governments can promulgate laws to protect people against homophobic/biphobic/transphobic violence. Even if yes, recent events like the one Laverne denounced on her social media show, there is room for improvement as we still can't hold hands with a partner or exchanging PDAs with a partner or simply walk in the street without a care.

But yes, I hope it brings them some joy to see the progresses we have made through the years as a community and how we keep fighting all over the world for our rights and our right to be, to love, to exist like any other human being 🏳️‍🌈

#long post #lovely nonny #zetta x adele series