Disclaimer: I do not own Titanic. I do not own Rose. As much as I want to, I do not own Mr. Andrews either. sigh

Note: Please be gentle with me. This is only the first chapter, so there won't be a lot of Rose/Mr. Andrews action going on. Mostly this chapter is just setting things up. So if you're hoping to read a full blown make out session between Rose and Mr. Andrews. . .come back later. Lol, just kidding.

Enjoy this chapter. Please review!

Chapter 1

Rose's mind was racing as she stood by her bed, holding tightly onto the bed post as Trudy laced her corset. She was thinking about her life, trying to find a way to get out of it. She felt as though her whole world was slowly collapsing. Her life was crumbling and she was trapped under it. It was getting harder to breathe. She couldn't even think straight anymore.

The worse thing was knowing that no one would ever come save her. Instead of saving her they would leave her left under the rubble, acting as though she didn't even need help. Rose was rich. Wealthy people were supposed to be problem free, weren't they? Live in a safe bubble, attend endless parades of parties or cotillions, marry an affluent man to make the family even richer. Life was supposed to be perfect for Rose. That's why nobody cared to notice her silent screams.

Trudy finished dressing Rose. Then, with a sigh, she off to meet Cal and her mother for lunch. Cal. He only seemed to add more weight on Rose's shoulders. Cal was thirty years old, nearly twelve years her senior and heir to the Hockley fortune. He was handsome and rich beyond meaning, what every wealthy man wanted for his daughter. However, Rose saw beyond that. She saw how arrogant, possessive, and abusive he was.

Yes, each time he would get upset with Rose he'd hit her. A hard slap across the face was typical. She hated it, and wished more than anything she could get out of the relationship. She wished she could find someone who would love her for who she was; someone who was kind and caring and simple.

Rose dwelt on these thoughts as she, her mother, and Cal met with Molly Brown, J. Bruce Ismay, and some man she did not recognize. The six of them moved to a table inside the Palm Court and took a seat. Rose sat beside Cal and across from the foreign man. He was a handsome young man, maybe just below the age of forty. He was well-built and straight with broad shoulders. Brown hair covered his head and his brown eyes seemed kind and friendly. The man was definitely a fine figure.

A scowl remained on Rose's face for most of the lunch. She only half listened to the conversation that was going on. It was just the same mindless chatter to her. She didn't give her full attention until she heard Mr. Ismay say "...and our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here, designed her from the keel plates up."

So Mr. Andrews is his name? Rose thought to herself as she looked at the man. And he built this ship? How fascinating!

Mr. Andrews gave a shy smile, which made butterflies flap inside Rose's stomach. "Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's."

Modesty: a characteristic that Cal lacks.

Mrs. Brown had the nerve to ask, "Why're ships always bein' called 'she'? Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?"

Everyone, with the exception of Rose, laughed.

It is just another example of men setting the rules their way. Saying that ships are feminine is sexist! It proves that men are possessive of women, just like Cal. Rose stared at Cal as she thought this. She frowned as she lit a cigarette. If only she had said that aloud.

"You know I don't like that, Rose," Ruth whispered to her daughter.

"She knows," Cal said coldly. He took the cigarette from her hand and stubbed it out on the table.

Rose was upset, but didn't say a word.

Cal turned and ordered lunch for both of them. She didn't even get a say in what she got to eat. It was ridiculous, but still she didn't say a word.

"You like lamb, don't you sweetpea?"

Rose nodded with a fake smile.

Both Mr. Andrews and Mrs. Brown saw that Rose was unhappy with Cal's overbearing demeanor.

Molly spoke, "So, you gonna cut her meat for her too there, Cal?"

A true smile appeared over Rose's porcelain face when he saw Cal's reaction. They say Mrs. Brown was "new money," knew nothing of their ways, and was vulgar. Rose was grateful for this. At least one woman understood her pain.

Ismay suddenly went on about size. Rose figured it was time for a witty remark. She could no longer keep her mouth shut. "Do you know of Dr. Freud? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Ismay."

Mr. Andrews choked on his food when he heard this. Such words were completely unexpected from a lady. His face turned bright red as he tried to stifle laughter. Rose caught this out of the corner out of her eye. She could feel those butterflies again.

"Excuse me," she muttered as she stood and walked away, catching a final glance at Mr. Andrews before walking out onto the deck.

Rose stood at the railing of Titanic, staring blankly out at the sea. She was furious and so tired of Cal treating her like a piece of meat. He was a nasty, cruel tyrant and she was his slave. The only reason she was here was so she could wait on Cal hand and foot and give him what he desired. The thought of marrying him was driving her insane.

On the other side of life, the thought of that Mr. Andrews guy made Rose weak at the knees. She had known him for but a half hour, and already she thought him to be a better guy than that monster she was betrothed to. He was handsome. So very handsome, indeed. Intelligent and modest, too. All qualities that Cal would never possess.

The only time Rose was happy was when she was lost in thought. Thinking of a man she actually liked only made her happier. The only thing that could ever ruin her happiness was. . .that voice. When she heard it bellow her name from behind she wanted to die. It always knew the wrong time to chime in.

"What has gotten into you lately, Rose?" Cal asked as he grabbed onto Rose's arm. "You're acting childish."

"Everything's perfect," Rose replied nonchalantly. She gently tore his hand off of her. "Just as you expect my life to be." She walked away, leaving Cal in an irritated mood. She wished she could walk away from her life just that easily.