Titanic: Zarry Stylik

29-are we crazy?

Zayn and Harry burst into the kitchen, laughing.
"Jesus, their faces! You'd think we'd told them that we were swimming up the Yangtzee river or something." Laughing, Harry hands Zayn a drink.

"You know what this is like, Harry? Talking like this? The whole idea of taking off to Europe this way? It's like the way I felt going onto that lifeboat. I was probably just as scared as everyone else, but inside I never felt better. I felt alive. I felt full of blood. And everything looked more real. The guys in their uniforms. The snow on the fields, the trees. And all of us just... walking. I mean I was scared of course. But I kept thinking: this is it. This is the truth."

"I felt that way once too." He looks at him. And there's something in his eyes.

"When?"

"The first time you made love to me." He walks over to him and kisses him passionately. And they make love that way, face to face, with the lights on, looking into each other's eyes, fully clothed, until he comes inside him. As he comes, Harry makes a sound, almost inaudible, but it sounds like... "...No" He holds him, breathing heavily. Harry strokes his head. 

The next day
"You wouldn’t have believed this
guy." Zayn said, sitting on the sofa.
Harry enters carrying a plate of sandwiches.

"He’s perfect Presidential material
in the worst sense. A million dollar smile and about three pounds of muscle between his ears. 'Frank, this is a crackerjack.'"
Harry looks around to be sure everything’s in place.

"Wish I saw his face when you told him you were leaving. "

Zayn looks away. "...Horse’s ass."
A car horn sounds outside. Harry looks out the window.

"I think this is them."

Margaret "Molly" Brown gets out of the car holding a tinfoil covered baking pan. Mr. James Joseph Brown opens the backseat. Out steps Lawrence Brown, wearing an institutional haircut and ill- fitting suit. He looks around the sunny neighborhood.

The kitchen is suddenly crowded with the Browns, Zayn, and Harry.

"Sorry to be late." Molly apologizes.

"You’re not late." Harry reassures.

"The traffic was terrible."

"Good to see you." Mr. Brown spoke.

"Wasn’t it terrible, J.J.?"

"Route 12."
Hands are shook, the baking dish exchanged.

"You didn’t have to do that." Harry says.

"The time they finish that stretch
of road, they’ll have to start all over again." Zayn answers
Lawrence stands by himself closest to the door.

"And you must be Lawrence?"
Silence settles over the room.

"Say hello, Lawrence."

"Nice to meetcha. Heard a lot aboutcha."

Lawrence smiles, exposing a mouthful of deeply-stained yellow teeth and high, eroded gums.

Molly leads the group into the living room. "Where are your darling children?"

"They’re at a birthday party. Sorry they couldn’t be here."
Lawrence walks around the room, stiff-legged, examining the book shelves, the paintings.

"Don’t worry. If I had a certified
lunatic coming around the house, I’d probably get the kids out of the way too."

Harry and Zayn exchange a quick glance.

"Oh, look at all this food! You didn’t have to go to any trouble for us." Molly changes the subject.

"It’s just some sandwiches." Harry lifts the plate and offers it to Lawrence.

"Lawrence, would you like a sandwich?"
He avoids Harry's look, but he takes four.

"Mom's been talking it up about you people for months. The nice young Titanic survivor Styles-Malik's."
Polite laughter.

"Who’d like some sherry?"