"This fucking stinks."

Crushing the beer can in his hand Justin reached his arm back and hurled it with great force over the railing. It landed an impressive distance away (the illusion probably helped by the constantly moving boat) and he could barely hear the splash. The tiny ripples it made in the ocean's surface were dwarfed by the frothing and foaming water being churned by the boat's propellers. He ought to have felt guilty about littering the ocean, but he was too busy indulging in self pity.

His mood didn't match the beautiful sunset or the soft, balmy breeze. It had been a beautiful day and was set to be an equally beautiful night, but he was oblivious to the fiery blazes of colour swept across the sky like paint strokes. The oranges and pinks meant nothing to him as he scowled at the horizon and the seemingly endless stretch of water before him.

"What stinks? The beautiful sunset, the perfect weather or the comedy styling of Mr Frank Whatever-the hell is his name is?"

Justin turned, spying a figure on the approach behind him. The auburn haired woman took the liberty of standing beside him at the rail, a wry expression on her face. Wordlessly she procured a packet of cigarettes from her pocket and offered him one. He was just about to refuse as he usually did, keeping his vocal chords in mind, but then in a fit of pique he decided he didn't care and took one anyway, giving her a small but grateful smile. In continued silence she lit his cigarette for him with a hot pink Zippo lighter and then did the same for herself.

"So that's the so called entertainment for this evening, huh? The type of comedy where the real laugh is how pathetically bad the dude is?" He asked lightly, dropping ash on the deck and taking small satisfaction in the fact the whole ship was a non smoking area.

She rolled her eyes heavenward and nodded in confirmation as he gave her the once over. Petite, freckled nose, clad in a little white sun dress, she seemed harmless enough. However, this entire cruise he'd been the bait in a tank of piranhas so he wouldn't be quick to trust.

"I don't know why they bother with all these lame shows and activities or whatever. It's a singles cruise, everyone here is desperate, it'd be less effort to just throw alcohol at everybody and watch the hook ups begin."

"Is that an admission you're desperate?" He smirked.

"Oh no," she shook her head, blowing out a puff of smoke out as she did so, "my pathetic story of why I'm here doesn't start until I got yours. You know all the women on this ship are simultaneously desperate to get in your pants yet deeply suspicious of why a multi millionaire pop star needs to go on a singles cruise to get women?"

Showing off a little, Justin started blowing smoke rings out before taking a deep, calming drag of his cigarette. For the first time that day, he gave a genuine grin. Her bluntness was both refreshing and entertaining. "What's the popular rumour?"

"You're either hung like a chipmunk and or can't keep it up."

The woman laughed evilly as he nearly choked, inhaling the last breath of smoke a little too fast. Coughing heartily, a little unsure whether to laugh or complain, Justin shook his head as he cast his eyes back out to the horizon. She was direct, that was for sure. He had no idea whether she was just digging for gossip or this was some strange way of trying to hit on him, but he decided to humour her for the while because she was the first person in about three days he hadn't wanted to run screaming from.

"So if I tell you…" he drawled somewhat croakily, "is the whole ship gonna know?"

"That would involve me talking to anybody on this ship. So… probably not. Only thing those girls talk about as much as you is what an anti-social bitch I am."

"So is that why you're on this cruise? You can't get men because you're an anti-social bitch?" As soon as he'd said it he realised how ill advised it was, so he gave her what he hoped was a teasing nudge with his elbow. Luckily for him, she seemed to take it well.

Breathing in deeply, she dropped her cigarette on the decking and stubbed it out with her flip flop before kicking it into the ocean - another litter culprit. Running her hands over the white rail, she gave it a smirk before meeting his blue eyes with her hazel ones and giving him one too.

"I'm on this cruise because my sister didn't realise when buying me my birthday present that the reason I'm single is I'm an anti-social bitch and as such this may not be the best place for me."

"Ouch." Justin winced. "Is that not like the most back handed gift ever? 'I'm sending you on a cruise because you're single and pathetic?' I'd have flipped my lid."

"That's what I said!" She threw her hands up in the air. "But nope, everybody just told me I was ungrateful."

"Justin." He offered her his name and held out his hand for her to shake. She shook it, but fixed him with a raised eyebrow.

"Clearly I know that."

"I was angling for your name, there."

Briefly she considered this for a moment, and then shrugged as if to confirm that it made sense. "Rose."

"If I didn't think it was so unoriginal I'd be making a joke about finding Jack and had you hung off the front of the ship yet."

"Good job you resisted that impulse or I'd be tossing you off the back of this ship. That movie wrecked my life. It was all 'Jack this' and "Cal that' and where was my necklace and had I tried to commit suicide or done any nude posing lately. Though to be fair I had…"

Justin blinked rapidly for a few moments, trying to work out whether or not she was suggesting she had posed nude. He was very tempted to ask her, but somehow after five minutes' acquaintance he thought it might be rude. Not to mention that he dreaded the embarrassment of being wrong, particularly when the other option was suicide. It wouldn't have been the first time his dirty mind had got him into trouble.

For a few more moments they stood in companionable silence, something you might say was odd for the two most anti-social people on the entire cruise. The singles' firm reps had completely despaired of them by this point, and had often made jokes about dumping them at one of the island stops - except that he was rich, famous and extremely good publicity, and she was an ambassador's daughter. As such, they had to cope with it. They would have deeply loved for Justin to get involved with the spirit of the trip, even if they weren't so concerned about Rose; they were all dying to get the kudos for finding his love match, and more than one of the female staff were hoping to be said match themselves (among others who just wanted to bed him for the hell of it).

Alas, it was not to be. Justin had kept himself to himself: holing up in his cabin, swimming in the pool when the organised activities were all at the other end of the ship and it was quiet, or tanning silently in the sun with his eyes firmly closed and his iPod drowning out the greetings of anybody who might try to talk to him. Although he hadn't noticed her, Rose was often to be found doing the same - only she swapped the iPod for some books.

"So has this trip sucked for you as much as for me?"

Rose broke the silence and Justin took a curious glance sideways at her. Maybe if he'd known her better he could have read the facial expression, but for now it was fairly impenetrable.

"Why, what's happened?"

"Food poisoning first day…" she said slowly. "The water polo idiots nearly broke my nose with the ball second, I had my purse stolen on the island yesterday, thank God I've been using traveller's cheques, and then today somebody broke into my cabin and stole the money I'd only just got replaced and all my jewellery too. They'd have had my phone if it hadn't been with me. Oh, and then that really creepy Julio guy tried to hit on me at dinner."

"Shit, you have been having a bad week," Justin commiserated. "They take anything valuable other than the money?"

"Pearl bracelet that was my grandmother's." Rose nearly kicked at the railing in frustration, but then remembered that bare feet in daisy flip flops against a steel railing was not the greatest idea from the feet's perspective.

"It's an antique, family heirloom, it's got like my great great great something or somebody's initials on it and I'm going to get throttled for losing it. I only got given it for my birthday, barely had it a month. Fucking assholes. And these crappy reps who practically had the ship stripped down to find somebody's precious iPod are doing fuck all to help me get my stuff back. They've all just decided somebody probably already sold it to one of the island guys or something, but it had to be somebody on this ship and the bastards aren't even looking," she fumed.

"Oh but they've got more important things to do," Justin said gravely. "Organising shuffleboard and cocktails is real strenuous, you know."

Rose playfully punched his arm with surprising strength and he grimaced, rubbing at the now burning spot. As he went to rub it he noticed how cold his hands were getting - they had quickly learnt that the warm days didn't necessarily mean warm nights. He was wearing a short sleeved shirt over t-shirt and jeans, there wasn't much he could do, but still he closed a couple more buttons. As he did so, Rose leant across him and stroked the red William Rast logo across the pocket.

"Don't worry. I was just wondering if it was fuzzy, not feeling you up."

"You don't strike me as the type to go around feeling random guys up. Well, sober anyway; I have no idea what you'd be like drunk - entertaining, if this conversation's anything to go by."

"Believe me, the humiliation of unsuccessfully trying to hit on a pop star whose music I'm not even that fond of - sorry - would probably be the highlight of my week at this point. Maybe they're right, maybe I should make like Miss DeWitt Bukater and just throw myself off here now." She joked.

"Yep. No hope. Might as well, if you don't like my music clearly you're beyond help." Justin joked, gesturing to the railing.

Tossing her head back dramatically, Rose placed her hands and one foot up on the railing, posing as if she was about to start climbing over. She started fluttering her eyelashes as if trying to cry, and stuck her bottom lip into a ridiculous, fish like pout. Justin burst into laughter at the sight of it, giving his hands a quick clap together and guffawing out loud. "Goodbye cruel… AHH!"

Rose let out a piercing scream as the railing gave way before her and gravity sent her plunging forward. Her vision blurred with the speed, churning water flashing before her terrified eyes as she began falling.

Falling off the side of the ship would have been painful, wet and nasty, but she could have survived that. Falling off the back of the ship meant falling into the propellers, being pulled down by the undertow and possibly, her frightened mind considered, being chopped up into fish bait. It all seemed to be moving in slow motion, yet she knew that it was happening all too fast as she squeezed her eyes shut and did her best to prepare to die.

God, she was going to die on this horrendous boat trip. It was the final indignity.

Her eyes shot open when she felt her shoulder being practically wrenched out of the socket and her body weight swing beneath it. Looking up, she saw Justin's red and straining face struggling to keep hold of her hand while clinging onto the remaining railing himself; it would have been no good for them both to fall. Immediately she reached up with the other hand, clutching on for dear life.

"For fuck's sake woman you weren't supposed to take me literally!" He yelled.

"Don't you fucking yell at me, HELP!" She screamed.

Justin strained to haul her up and back onto the deck, but it was no use. He didn't have enough grip or strength to do it with one arm, and he couldn't let go of the railing himself or they'd both go down. Hell, he wasn't entirely sure they weren't both going down anyway - one faulty piece of railing probably meant others. Rose for her part was alternately screaming in fear or whimpering with pain; she wasn't entirely confident that her shoulder hadn't been dislocated.

"HELP!" Justin yelled in a futile fashion. Clearly whatever was going on in the dining room was far more important than safety patrols.

"I don't wanna die," she sobbed.

"Shit, you're gonna have to try and swing your legs up Rose, I can't pull you any further."

Justin cursed the awkward angle of the railing and their situation. He simply couldn't move any further back without dropping her. Much as he worked out, his bicep was burning and straining with her weight and he knew something was going to give. With what little upper body strength she had, Rose tried to raise her body up enough so she could swing her legs up. Letting out an 'oww' or a yelp every time her legs bashed unsuccessfully against the unforgiving hull of the boat, she began to get desperate. Her atheist self was even beginning to consider prayer.

Squeezing his eyes shut and putting in more effort than he had ever before given to anything in his life, Justin managed to pull her up one tiny half inch more, and it gave the adrenalin fuelled Rose the lift she needed to hook a leg onto the deck and scramble back up onto safer ground. The sudden slack sent Justin flying backwards, taking her with him, and they fell in a heap on top of each other as the scrambled to get away from the dangerous opening.

Lying on the ground, both breathing heavily and still wide eyed with fear, neither of them even noticed that her skirt had fallen up and her underwear was exposed. They caught each other's gaze, both staring in disbelief, both unaware of what a compromising position they had fallen into. It was only when Justin's hand brushed Rose's arm that she jumped up, immediately backing away from the treacherous decking and beginning to tremble.

What Justin hadn't expected was for it to be trembling rage.

"Those fucking incompetent assholes! What the fuck kind of Mickey Mouse operation do they think they're running? I could have fucking died! Where the fuck is the captain, I want to speak to the captain!"

Justin stared dumbfounded at her retreating back as she stomped off into the distance. Suddenly he felt a fool for expecting her cry or anything like it. It seemed far too girly.

***

Finally, he saw her again.

He had tried not to think she had been avoiding him, but either she was very good at hiding or it was an incredible set of coincidences that had stopped him from setting sights on her even once in three days. It was a ship, a confined space; it wasn't like they were in the middle of New York with millions of people buzzing around them. Hell, he bumped into people he knew more in New York than he'd managed to bump into her on the cruise liner. Maybe she'd just been freaked by the little near death experience they'd shared, but even when the captain had come to quiz him about it she had been nowhere to be seen.

As soon as he'd noticed her, Justin noticed something else. His eyes narrowed at the strange set up. Instead of being grouped into little tables like a normal restaurant, as it had been all trip, the dining room had been set up with four long banquet tables forming a large square. It was unavoidable - everybody was going to have to look at everybody. There was nowhere to hide in this scenario, and no chance of eating alone as he had successfully managed to all week (except for Sunday night before the ladies had figured out he wasn't interested).

In his stupor he had managed to forget that he was standing in the middle of a room looking far away and possibly stoned. He'd also failed to notice the seats rapidly filling up. Casting his eyes around in mild panic and realising that he was fast running out of options, he skedaddled as fast as he could around to Rose's side of the square, hoping he'd manage to sit next to her. Sure, he'd have to sit next to at least one complete stranger, but at least she was somebody he could stand.

Alas, he was too late, and the dreaded Julio had sat down in what would have been his place. Since he had begun people watching and paying a little more attention to his fellow passengers after his encounter with Rose, he had worked out that Julio was the type of guy who would bed whatever came his way easily and relentlessly pursue what didn't. In short, he was just about the last person the anti-social Rose would be going for. Justin would have laughed or smirked at the whole thing had Julio not doomed him to sitting between Sara and Julie, both of whom were far too star struck for him to have any pleasant conversation with.

Throughout the meal - a decent chicken soup followed by a fairly uninspiring vegetable risotto - he had to resort to downing far too much Jack Daniels and Coke (as well as a little wine) to get him through. Sara and Julie were both competing for his very limited attention, and the guy the other side of Julie was pompously trying to talk 'business' with him as if a used car salesman had any idea what it took to run multi million dollar production and clothing companies. Julie also had a very irritating and transparent way of stroking his shirt sleeve while pretending it was because she was an aspiring fashion designer. He had a feeling she cared less about Valentino's stellar stitch work on the shirt and waistcoat than the price he liked to charge.

Rose had been right; everybody on this ship was desperate. It was odd, because he knew some perfectly intelligent and self sufficient people who'd been speed dating and the like - he could only imagine it was this company that specifically attracted losers.

As dessert came and the alcohol really began to settle in his bloodstream, Justin did the unthinkable - in front of all those people, all staring, he decided to pop over to say hi to Rose. Everybody else had been doing this to various others all night, but naturally since pop stars were like side show attractions (their very existence made them objects of wide eyed fascination) him doing it was worthy of attention. Rose noticed him getting up and at first figured it was for the bathroom - when she remembered they were in the other direction, she attempted to catch his eye and silently plead for him not to. She did not need the looks or the whispers.

However, even as he was walking, he was looking back in the other direction with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even sure how he'd noticed, really, he must have been dreaming.

"Hey Rose, what's shakin'?" He asked with a slight slur as he reached her.

"Nothing."

Her succinct answer was a hint for him to buzz off, but naturally he was too buzzed to pick it up. She might have thought that avoiding him entirely was a bigger hint, but clearly the man was blind.

"Hey, didn't you say you lost a… thingy… bracelet? With initials?" He asked, jerking his thumb back behind him. "It's weird, that Anita girl has a bracelet and the top part looks like a TE. Weird coincidence, huh?"

Possibly if he hadn't been drunk Justin would have realised it was no coincidence at all, but he was none the wiser. Rose, who just so happened to bunk next to Anita who had been having very loud sex at very inappropriate times of the night, had already put two and two together and was beginning to visibly steam.

An oblivious Julio continued to try and feed her the dessert as she became redder and redder.

Her chair scraping back with a loud screech, all thought of playing it low key and not havig gattention drawn to her forgotten, she marched over to Anita's chair (as best she could in heels), and went to look down at her wrist. Giving a gasp as she spotted her very own bracelet, she immediately yanked Anita out of her seat by her long hair.

"Oww! What the fuck is wrong with you, psycho?" Anita wriggled, powerless against Rose's vice like grip.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, you little klepto! Give me my fucking bracelet back and everything else you stole you little tramp!"

The entire room had gone quiet and was staring. Even the stewards were too dumbfounded by the sight of the stoic and withdrawn Rose making such a scene to realise that they ought to be intervening.

"Oh, and so you all know, gentlemen, she's been with a different one of you every night so I hope you played it safe!"

It was entirely inappropriate, but Justin snorted loudly with laughter which he then had to choke back and pass off as a coughing fit. Between this and the irate reaction to the railing giving out from under her, he was guessing she had anger management issues. Had he been sober he might have been more discreet and made sure she was too, but as it stood he was happy to watch it unfold.

Or at least he was until Anita and Rose started clawing at each other and he decided he ought to step in - seeing as nobody else was. The stewards were starting to move but he was much closer.

"Come on ladies…" He tried to wrench them apart but they were surprisingly strong. One he probably could have taken on, but both were a little too much for him to handle. Bitterly he glared at all the gawping onlookers who were clearly taking this for their evening entertainment.

Just as a steward got to them and managed to prise Anita away, Rose unexpectedly gave up and sank back into Justin's arms. This would have been fine if Justin was sober or prepared for it, but he was neither and as such he went flying backwards, making the table collapse and plates go flying.

It was just about the only thing that would have made any of the guests move their asses out of their seats (as Justin had thought evilly to himself), and it did - yelps and cries and swear words filled the air as pandemonium broke out. Some people found their food in their laps, some managed to escape it; some even managed to grab their drinks before they hit the floor. In the midst of it all, Justin was staring wide eyed at a livid and heavily breathing Rose. As she stood up, eyes narrowed into impossibly tiny slits and animosity all levelled in his direction, he began to see why.

She looked incredibly lovely. Her hair was swept up and her facial features brought out by subtle, natural make up. A pretty butterfly hung around her neck; her curves were emphasised and the red of her hair brought out by a fitted soft green dress. A soft green dress that was smeared with the chocolate dessert she had landed in. A chocolate dessert that was smeared all over the back of her skirt, and even along the backs of her legs.

There was only one way to describe it. She looked like she had soiled herself. If the snickering from the people around her was anything to go by, they agreed.

"So, Timberlake…" the words rolled slowly off her tongue. First you nearly kill me and then you make me look like I crapped myself in front of an entire ship full of people. Do me a favour and stay the fuck away from me?"

She stalked over to Anita, who appeared to have given up. If she could have yanked the bracelet off without breaking it, she would have, but instead she had to take the time and care to get it off intact. Instead she expressed her displeasure by stomping on Anita's sandal clad foot with relish and yelling to the stewards that she wanted 'the little delinquent's cabin searched.' As she stomped out of the room, seemingly oblivious to the spectacle she had helped create, she could be heard to mutter that this was the worst vacation of her life.

Looking down at his hands, equally oblivious to the way people were staring at him as well as Rose but unable to join in with the laughter that had replaced their initial shock, Justin's eyes began to burn with un-falling tears.

***

Back at the dock, unbelievably grateful to be back at their port of departure and to be able to go back to his real life, Justin was quietly loading up his Mercedes with his suitcases. To say that the trip had been hellish was an understatement. It had by turn been lonely, irritating, scary and humiliating - and also shameful.

Again Rose had managed to disappear, not even turning up to meals. He suspected that she had probably disembarked at some point - a few others had done that in sudden fits of passion for a local, but he suspected she would have been looking for the quickest route home. He didn't even know if she had got her stuff back; certainly Anita had been running around flirting like it had never happened. Hell, she'd even tried to flirt with him, which he found laughable.

It was amazing how a woman he'd met exactly twice for no longer than ten minutes a turn was dominating his thoughts so much.

Justin's skin was now a deep tan beneath his jeans and shirt sleeves. With all the sleep and lack of activity he looked incredibly well rested, although certainly not content. A five o clock shadow darkened his face (he hadn't bothered too much with shaving). There was a stiffness and tension in his movement which belied the fact he'd been on vacation. The tan was probably the only indication of it.

There were lots of goodbyes going on around him: tearful ones, friendly ones, over-friendly ones. Some people were clinging together and making out like either of them meant a word they said about keeping in touch, some were just shaking hands and waving each other off, some were programming numbers into cell phones. Heck, maybe a few of them were even genuine.

Justin was completely alone. Then again, he was reaping what he'd sowed.

"Umm…hey, Justin," a small voice said weakly from behind him.

"Hey," he replied, startled.

Rose stood in front of him, wearing yet another incomprehensible expression. Her nose was scrunched up and her eyes narrowed in the bright light, but even beneath that there was a nameless feeling he couldn't find a term for.

"So I got my stuff back," she told him, swinging her Vuitton purse from hand to hand. "Bastards wouldn't press charges, insisted it had been a mix up, but I just don't think they wanted to do all the embassy shit." She was an ambassador's daughter, she knew how it worked. In some ways, she almost couldn't blame them - almost. It left her just enough room to hate their guts.

"Oh. Cool." He scratched at the back of his neck. "Listen, I … umm…"

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," she rushed out breathlessly. "It was an accident and you have, after all, managed to save my life and my belongings in the course of this trip. So, on balance… maybe I can live with some unfortunately placed stains?"

He almost had to chuckle at her phrasing - somehow he just liked the weird way she talked - but the laughter died long before it could have hit his throat.

"No, I should be sorry. And I am."

Quietly she picked up his last bag for him (a small camera for all those pictures he'd never taken) and placed it in the car for him, quietly closing the trunk.

"Nah. I have a temper, you might have noticed," she joked. "So, Mr Timberlake, since we're friends… or, well, acquaintances again, you owe me."

"Owe you what?" He gave her a brief glimmer of a smile.

"I told you the pathetic tale of how I wound up on a singles' cruise… so how did you?"

It surprised her, the way all light and expression on his features just died without warning. The blue eyes became hollow, and his face sunk in without warning. He looked years older than the twenty five he was, and from the way he had hunched over he'd lost about an inch in height.

"My management booked the wrong thing."

"Oh." She looked confused, pushing her hair back behind her ears as she gazed at him quizzically. "So why didn't you just tell 'em?"

"Because they meant to book me on a rehab program."

Rose's eyes wanted to pop clean out of her skull, but she fought to keep her expression neutral. She couldn't have been more stunned if she had tried. He didn't look like a drug addict to her, at all.

"What kind of rehab program goes on a cruise?" It was the only thing that thought to pop out of her mouth and even as she said it she wanted to smack herself silly for it. To her surprise, she got a wry grin in response.

"I've left so many rehab places so many times they figured they should put me on one where it was either stay or swim for it. I saw they'd made the mistake and I figured if I kept my mouth shut, it'd keep them happy without me actually having to do the damn rehab."

"What for?" She asked, throwing all fear of being nosy to the wind.

"Alcohol."

Even as he said it, she saw it all click into place. Every time she'd seen him at the pool and then scurried away before he could spot her, always at lunch and dinner. The beer can he had been tossing into the ocean the very first time she'd bumped into him. The JD and Cokes she'd been watching him throw back during that god forsaken dinner whenever she thought he wasn't looking. Always there was a beer or cocktail in his hand.

"Did you know at AA they make you say sorry for all the people you've hurt?"

"Yeah, I did actually," she responded in a daze, staring down at her sneakers.

"I owe you an apology."

Even as she was looking up at him curiously, there was a burning lump sitting in the back of Justin's throat. He felt a little nauseous, and if there was any moment he could have used a shot it was then.

"For what? I mean, I know you might've been a little drunk at that dinner but that little incident was my fault as much as anybody's... why would you think you need to apologise? Not like anybody else was trying to help me out."

"Before you came out to stand next to me, I'd been screwing and unscrewing the bolt on the railing," he said simply.

Rose gaped unattractively at him. Standing there in the sunlight with his tall, lean body and his handsome if weary face, he couldn't have shocked her more if he'd dumped a bucket of ice water over her head.

"Oh."

He was telling her that he'd been messing with a bolt and hadn't screwed it back on properly in his drunkenness. She had nearly died - somebody else could have died - because he had been drunk and playing with an important safety feature. All she or somebody else would have needed to do was lean too heavily on that rail when nobody was around to catch them, and there could have been a death onboard.

Rose opened her mouth to say something, anything, but had to close it again for fear of catching flies. She had nothing.

"Looks like I'm back on cruise next week though anyway," he stuttered nervously. "I 'fessed up to my mom and she booked me back in on the right ship this time."

"Oh," she said again.

"I'm sorry."

His voice was so small, so quiet… so tired. Behind his eyes, he looked like an old man.

It was weird - she ought to be furious with him. She indeed expected her usual fury to come raging up and out in its usual volcanic fashion but instead Rose reached into her purse, yanked a scrap of paper out of her date book and scribbled something on it. Looking at it hesitantly, she nevertheless handed it over to him. His fingers brushed hers haltingly, nervously as he took it from her. His eyes scanning over it, he looked at her questioningly.

"Just don't for God's sake tell the cruise directors. I really don't want them thinking they made any kind of score here."

Justin wanted to say something, but his mouth went dry and words wouldn't escape it.

"Hope your next trip goes better than this one. I think I decided that people named Rose shouldn't go on boats, Titanic was clearly a warning, so I'm gonna have to pass. Anyway… I gotta run so I'll see you, Timberlake."

Before he could even blink, she was gone. All that was left for him to do was to stare dumbfounded at the phone number he now clutched in his sweaty fingers.