Chapter Text
Charlotte Rose Bennett- Lottie, to only a select few- would be the first of four to lose her temper, a mere few hours after Titanic left her port in Southampton.
The sun was setting when the grand ship approached Cherbourg, France and Lottie took the bustle of the newly embarked passengers as her opportunity to walk around the ship unnoticed. Holding a second-class ticket, Lottie desperately wanted to gain access to the first-class areas- spaces made for royalty held many opportunities for a great story, after all. If she were to impress the editor of some fancy New York newspaper, it was of the utmost importance that she be up-to-date on all the gossip, news, and fashion trends before anyone else. The thought of such vapid things made her skin itch, but she was willing to put aside her discomfort for the sake of her future career.
Lottie was confident she could get any information about the ship's inner workings from her older brother- the true challenge, in fact, would be to get him to stop talking- so she decided to leave those details for the final day of the voyage. As much as it would make for a more interesting read, her name and face would get such an article immediately thrown out.
Lottie set her plan into motion as the ship welcomed the arrival of the smaller tender ships. In an unladylike display, she climbed over the low partition gates of the boat deck's promenade, effectively stepping into first-class territory. Fixing her skirts and fluffing her hair, Lottie made sure that her small Kodak camera and notepad were safely tucked into the pockets of her coat. She waited a small moment to ensure all was well- that she had truly and so easily taken the first step towards a, not necessarily groundbreaking but, career-starting article.
A small crowd of finely dressed men and women stood by the railing, evidently looking out for the newest passengers embarking from the tender ships, and Lottie decided it a good idea. How impressive would she be, walking into the office of the New York Times, with a photo of the Mr. and Mrs. John Jacob Astor taking their first steps onto the grand ship, both wearing the latest in Parisian fashion?
A fluff piece, and one that Lottie would feel no passion in writing, but women have to get their foot in the door somehow- and gaining the attention of a major news outlet by writing fashion or house-making promotions (things more suited for the fairer sex, of course) was to be Lottie's only hope to one day writing an article that would surely shake up the whole of the world!
"Hold on- What do you think you're doing?"
Lottie turned, and it was only after she turned that she silently chastised herself for being so damn obvious. A steward, a young, fresh-faced man who couldn't be a day over twenty, approached her with a skeptical frown and Lottie attempted to force as charming of a smile as she could- like the ones she always saw her brother so easily plaster on his face. While the rest of her siblings inherited their mother's charm, Lottie unfortunately inherited her father's scowl.
The result was an awkward grimace, and the steward seemed to have grown immediately exhausted. "May I see your ticket, ma'am."
Lottie attempted to compose herself. "Oh, well you see-" she blindly rummaged through the pockets of her coat. "I'm afraid I left it in my cabin and I-"
"And where exactly would your cabin be located?"
Lottie wondered what had made her stand out so easily. She didn't feel as though she looked that much different from the first-class passengers, especially while they were all still in the clothing they boarded with. And anyway, who exactly did this man think he was? So easily judging her based on nothing but-
"You're awfully rude!" Lottie cried, the shame and embarrassment she felt suddenly turning into rage. It was an unfortunate trait, also inherited from her father, but she was unable to stop herself once the anger made her blood boil.
"Is that really any way to treat a lady? You can surely count on the White Star Line receiving a strongly worded letter very soon. I will not be disrespected in such a manner, especially not by a boy who can barely fill out his uniform-"
"And what's all this on a lovely afternoon?" Lottie recognized Mr. McElroy, the ship's purser and someone her brother, Francis, considered to be a "good friend." He strode confidently over to them and Lottie could see in the way the steward's eyebrows rose that the whole display was more amusing than threatening, more so now that Mr. McElroy was involved. She wondered how the steward would tell the tale of the hysterical second-class woman to his fellow shipmates, and she wondered just how much of a laugh it would get.
Mr. McElroy rubbed at his chin as he listened to the steward explain the situation. Lottie fought the urge to jump overboard when the purser cast an unreadable glance towards her. Mr. McElroy, with a voice finely tuned to appease even the most difficult customer, carefully explained to Lottie that, as a holder of a second-class ticket, she indeed needed to stay in the designated areas just like anybody else.
And her adventure had swiftly ended just as suddenly as it had begun. With Lottie back on her own side of the ship, she watched as Mr. McElroy walked away, leaving a locked gated partition in his wake. He had bade her a polite farewell, distinctly calling her Miss Bennett though she was sure she had never given him her name.
She slammed her hands down on the gate, leaning over as she did. She was about to yell something after him- unleash the buried fury that would surely make the spirit of her father proud, wherever he was- when a small commotion caught Lottie's attention. Voices guided her towards the ship's edge, anger and the perceived slight filed away towards the back of her mind, where she peered down below for a better look.
The gangway that bridged Titanic and her tender was busy with embarking passengers, all a blur of fur coats and feathered hats. Among the cacophony of voices, however, one voice stood out above the rest. An officer leaning out of the open gangway door, giving some sort of order towards someone further down the ramp. Lottie did not recognize him, but she was sure her brother would know exactly who he was if she asked for the "gangly loud one." By God, the man appeared more limb than anything, and his presence only served to annoy her. No one seemed bothered by him, though, and Lottie felt herself quickly lose interest, her previous anger begging for her attention instead.
"Of course, Mr. Lightoller!" A different voice carried over to her ears and Lottie instantly recognized it as belonging to the little stewardess that helped her that very morning. Oh, what was her name…
How strange, however- Lottie had assumed the girl to be a second-class stewardess, having helped her and another man holding a second-class ticket find their cabins. And yet, there she was! Gracefully maneuvering around finely dressed passengers, the diamonds around their necks sparkling elegantly against the setting sun and yet the stewardess didn't seem to pay any mind to the glamour surrounding her. Just another day, Lottie assumed, and continued watching the stewardess as she flattened herself against the ramp's side, allowing a well-dressed man and a woman pass by undisturbed. Lottie noticed the woman holding a small dog in her arms and that was when a sailor handed the stewardess a valise or two. The uniformed girl then dutifully followed after the gorgeous couple as they proceeded up towards the ship's entrance.
Lottie recognized the couple then as the Astors and she nearly tumbled forward in her astonishment. Catching herself, Lottie smiled brightly as a new plan formed in her mind and her anger was left to float away with the evening's breeze.