Titanic: True Love Forever

Chapter 12: Metamorphosis

My eyes were a light turquoise color, and I pursed my lips unnaturally as I looked in the mirror at the face that hadn't been sculpted in any way yet, a face that had been with me for almost five months yet was still strangely terrifying.

I found this silent state of looking in the mirror and studying my appearance horrifying, or at least as unnatural as a schizophrenic lunatic, or a depressed person on the verge of committing suicide, in the eyes of others.

I quieted down around me, and barely managed to spare some energy to pay attention to the unlucky male counterpart, only to find that he had finally stopped distorting his face, and instead gazed at me with a kind of shocked look at a psychopath, fearing that I would suddenly explode and manipulate a kitchen knife to chop him up and eat him.

Too lazy to bother with him anymore, I start rummaging through the box of makeup, throwing back the unwanted night cream as I search for the lipstick, which comes in several colors.

Well, for a lady in this day and age, I had thought I could play the wife of a rich American businessman, but this face was just too juvenile, so I had to consider myself an aristocratic lady of an English manor.

An aristocratic, well-bred, demure and high-spirited aristocratic lady. I close my eyes and take three deep breaths. And then tell myself, darling, it's time for us to go on stage.

I open my eyes and see my own familiar gaze in the unfamiliar colored eyes in the mirror. Even if the shape of the eyes changes, the eyes stay the same, the voice changes, the rhythm of speech stays the same, the body changes, the soul stays the same.

Then I begin the steps of applying my makeup, if my makeup artist was there she could have given me more professional instructions, but alas now everything is simplified and left to my own devices.

I crossed my arms and squeezed each other before tucking my curls that were strewn around to the back of my head, my hair was still a little damp and even after I vigorously toweled it for a long time it couldn't dry all the way. All I could do was gently smooth it with my fingers, over and over, then my fingers deftly divided the curls into several large strands, this kind of bun was no difficulty for me, except for a slight obstacle in the volume of my hair. I've never pulled a bun with this much volume before, and it took me a little extra time to curl my hair into a generous shape, and then I secured it with a butterfly bobby pin.

I accidentally took too many of the heroine's things, and I'll return those before I get off the ship. Of course I may not get a chance to return to the upper deck tomorrow, so I'll throw these things in a ball on the recliner in the upper deck, where they can be found as soon as the owner loses them.

Accidentally glancing again at the large cocoon I'd tied up particularly tightly, I noticed that the guy was in even more of a mess, and that he seemed quite undeterred in his certainty to break free of this bondage. The eyes had gone from angry to frantic at first, to barely returning to some semblance of sanity. The corners of his eyes were drooping again, and his eyes, including his expression, revealed some kind of evil and cunning flavor, as if he was turning into a shadowy creature waiting to escape at any time and then finish off anyone who offended him.

This guy is not a good person at first glance, I calmly recalled the movie clip where he chased down the hero and heroine with a gun, reaffirming the judgment that this is not a good thing.

Calmly smoothing out my foundation, I sink my mind and focus on the mask an aristocratic girl needs. As I smile softly, I realize I've found something to feel. It was the smile of some upper-class maiden I'd seen on deck, youthful and sweet, yet elegant and composed. It was such a strange and diametrically opposed description, yet it blended surprisingly well into one.

I rubbed this foundation delicately over my entire face, a few almost invisible freckles hidden by the quiet snow cover. I began to apply eye shadow, a near transparent pale green like the sky above the mountain tops in the early morning.

I had to look healthy, a noblewoman in upper class didn't look malnourished and unlucky.

Finally I picked up a red lipstick, crushed some of it with my fingertips, and meticulously smoothed it onto my lips. The whitened, malnourished lips were in shallow bloom.

Once again I pursed a line of smile sweetly and gracefully, and the young girl in the mirror was exquisitely polished.

She was no longer the orphan waiting to starve to death in the snow of the slums, or the impoverished one washing the clothes of dead bodies on the beach, or the vagrant running wild on the docks. She was now the pumpkin lady waiting for the twelve o'clock bell, on her way to her own ball.

I stood up, this body tall enough to be as tall as I hoped to be for the dance. I tighten the belt back, smoothing down some of the folds and using some of the tricks of handling clothes to fold the excess fabric in half and hide it with small clips. Then I bent down to put on my shoes, which were a little bigger than my feet, and I stuffed them with a handkerchief. Then carefully put on the long gloves, the white ones came to my upper arms and echoed the beige skirt.

After finishing I stood up straight and gazed at myself in the mirror, the dress flowing gracefully down my legs, green ribbons peeking through the cloudy hem. I smiled, a few strands of naturally curled bangs fell on my white forehead, and my light green eyes were as transparent as the ocean under the Titanic that was more than three thousand meters deep. I looked back and forth three times with a critical and focused eye to make sure I hadn't broken anything before bending over and picking up a fan that had been left up in the chair.

Then I looked down to see Calhokely staring daggers at me, still seemingly unable to awaken from that grotesque nightmare, his expression dull and his eyes visibly bewildered. He looked at me and blinked again with some self-doubt.

I hesitated for a few seconds, contemplating which crate to throw him in and lock him up, preferably not to be found until after I disembarked tomorrow. Unfortunately, there seemed to be the sound of someone coming through the door, and I was running out of time to deal with this guy, so I had to take one step at a time.

I try to take two steps in my shoes, my skirt swaying with my movements. Carl's expression stiffened, his eyes moving in time with my steps, and I gave him a subtle smile and a slight nod, then opened my fan to cover my mouth and turned to the door to reach out and open it.

Just in front of me walked a male waiter, dressed in a white suit uniform with a tray in his hand. I opened the door and stepped out seemingly puzzling him for a moment, I smiled at him and the waiter immediately stepped back a few paces to let me pass first, he would be the waiter in charge of Carl's suite.

I maintain a steady pace as I walk down the bright white hallway, the maitre d' behind me walking into the room I just came out of. I met up with a pair of partners who were going to a ball, and I smiled at them in a friendly way, walking naturally to them. As I passed around the corner, an expressionless middle-aged man came face to face with Lovejoy, who brushed past me.

Within seconds, a stormy yell came from vaguely behind me, "Get me that woman, that f*****g woman."

I continued to smile, as if this aristocratic lady's smile had long since penetrated my bones and become one of the traces of my face. When I came to the elevator, one of the three elevators happened to be empty, and I stepped in and said to the elevator attendant, "Floor D."

"Yes, Miss." The elevator attendant said with a professional and warm smile.