April 11th, 1912. (2:25 PM) 

Nicholas had remained at the railing, watching the sea for some time. The conversation with Mr Heartly lasted for some time, and the rhythm of the conversation flowed freely. Nicholas had learnt that Mr Heartly was from Lancashire, not the southern portion of England he had expected. He had spent time in Nicholas's native Yorkshire. His family had moved to Huddersfield shortly after he left school. And He had then moved to Dewsbury. He was the first person Nicholas had met who had lived in his native home. In 1909, he joined the Cunard Line as a musician, serving on the ocean liners RMS Lucania, RMS Lusitania and RMS Mauretania. Nicholas was taken aback at how experienced this man was, and his admiration for Mr Heartly's journey was evident. In 1912, he found himself assigned to Titanic as the bandmaster. He had admitted he was reluctant to accept it, but here he was.  Nicholas immensely enjoyed the conversation and thought it was too early to say they were friends. He hoped in the future they could, but for now. He was happy to have someone to talk to.

Mr Heartly, however, could only stand around and talk for a while. After checking his pocket watch, he sighed and bid farewell to Nicholas. Another performance neared, and he had to be prepared. He invited him to listen to the performances sometime. Nicholas had patted the pocket where he had put the timetable.  The pair shook hands as Nicholas bid Mr Heartly a farewell. He stayed at the rail for some time longer. Land had now entirely given way to the vast ocean, and now there was nothing but the sea. He had felt somewhat apprehensive about being so far away from land, but now, the refreshing air had relaxed him. Nicholas stayed longer at the railing before returning to the library. Sebastian was not here, but that did not bother him. He sat near the same window he had sat in yesterday and returned to the book he had been reading. The engines' hum and the people's chatter created a Symphony of relaxing noises that let Nicholas escape into his book.

As he sat there, relaxing into the soft embrace of the chair and the exciting book, his thoughts drifted onto Sebastian. He was sure he was imagining things, but he swore he felt an electric energy that lingered in the air after Sebastian had caught him before he fell over. An unspoken intensity had existed then; Nicholas was at least sure of this. That moment of contact was unsettling yet exhilarating. He was entering a new, uncharted emotional territory. Nicholas wondered if Sebastian felt the same about that moment as he did, but he could not simply ask that question; god knows how we would react.  No matter how hard he wanted to, he found it hard to focus on the book entirely.

His mind drifted to the future of New York City.  She was a city bustling with life and ripe with opportunities, a city that was growing upwards. He had heard of great metal towers that reached high into the skies. It sounded fantastical, but nothing was possible in the new world. Nicholas could not wait to see the underground trains that darted through the belly of the city. Yet one thing kept sneaking into his mind. His time aboard the Titanic was becoming more transformative than he had anticipated. He wondered how changed he would be when they reached New York City. Would he even be the same person? Would his family even recognise him?

Nicholas sighed and closed the book; despite his best efforts, he could not focus as his mind wandered in all directions. He carefully threw the book onto the table in frustration. Checking his watch, he decided it was best to clean up before dinner. It would also give him time to clear his thoughts and regain control over his runaway mind. He rose, stretching his limbs, which had grown stiff from sitting and quickly departed the library. As he strolled back to his cabin, his mind returned to the future and New York City again.  He imagined the bustling streets of New York, the throngs of people from all corners of the globe, and the opportunities that might find him there. By now, he had somewhat memorised the way to his cabin, allowing him to walk there, drifting off into his thoughts.  

As he turned a corner, deeply entrenched in his musings about his future life, he walked straight into Sebastian, who was coming from the opposite direction with an armful of thick blankets. Nicholas suddenly felt the impact dragging him back into reality as the blankets flew, falling on them like a sudden snowstorm. Both men staggered backwards slightly in shock at the sudden collision.  Startled, Nicholas looked up to find Sebastian, who had been carrying the blankets, now trying to gather them up again. Nicholas gulped in horror as he realised what had just happened. He had been so entrenched in his world that he had not been paying any attention. 

"Oh! Sebastian, I'm so sorry," Nicholas exclaimed, his cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment as he bent down to help gather the scattered blankets. "I really must watch where I'm going," Nicholas stammered, his face warming under the ship's electric lights. "No harm done, Mr. Goodwin. I should have been paying more attention myself," Sebastian reassured him, his voice calm, and a small smile appeared on his lips. But as they reached for the same blanket, their hands brushed against each other, a fleeting contact that sent an unexpected jolt through Nicholas. He hesitated, their eyes meeting over the pile of blankets. The air in the corridor shifted, the mood changing along with it. Sebastian's hand lingered near Nicholas's for a second longer than necessary before he pulled away, a subtle shift in his gaze suggesting he felt the same surprise. "Thank you, Nicholas," he said, his voice slightly lower than before. "I can manage from here." 

Nicholas stood up and brushed down his suit. He still held a blanket, unsure what to do with it. He carefully handed it to Sebastian, making sure not to touch his hand again; he was not sure he would survive if they did. "Busy as always", Nicholas commented, trying to break the tension still in the air. Tension thick enough that you could cut it with a knife." Just keeping things running smoothly," Sebastian said, his tone light. "Everyone needs a warm blanket on the Atlantic nights, after all." Nicholas smiled, feeling relief washing over him; Sebastian was right. Last night was quite cold, and he wondered if the temperature would drop further the more they sailed out into the vast ocean. He hoped not, though he was ready for it if it did.  He hoped not, though he was prepared for it if it did.

"Well, I won't keep you any longer. And thank you for the... soft landing," Nicholas joked; he felt warm inside as the smile returned to Sebastian's face.  Sebastian laughed, the sound easy and comforting. "Anytime, Nicholas. Maybe try to bump into me when I carry pillows next time?" "I'll aim for that," Nicholas promised with a grin. He realised it was the first time Sebastian had not used the word sir or his last name. He pushed the thought deep into his mind's sub depths, trying his hardest not to linger on that fact.  As they parted ways, Nicholas touched his hand subconsciously, the warmth of Sebastian's fleeting touch still lingering. The encounter, brief and clumsy as it had been, left him with a fluttering feeling in his stomach that he couldn't quite name.  Nicholas turned to head back to his cabin; his thoughts were no longer solely on New York but on the unexpected moments and connections that might shape his journey even before he arrived. Something was indeed brewing. If only he could put the pieces together.