A/N: Okay, so Something Dark is ending in a few chapters (like four or five), and I hate posting just one story because everyone has different interests! I like to make different stories at once so everyone has something! :) So, here's ANOTHER new story! Don't ask how it came to me. . . I have no idea. Anyway, my research paper is done and so MORE TIME TO UPDATE!

This isn't at all based on My Fake Fiancé, I haven't seen that movie in ages, so maybe something in this will end up being the same? But I don't actually remember the movie. . . so hopefully everything is mostly my idea xD

Gonna try to update some other stories tonight because I'm in a crazy good mood! :D

BEFORE I START THE CHAPTER [PLEASE READ]:

So, this story idea came to me via guest review. The prompt struck me and I fell in love with it all of a sudden! Here's why: I miss writing for Titanic, but I don't have many story ideas, and I really love How to Rock a lot. So… this reviewer basically said "Why not write both?" GREAT! :D

What works well is that Titanic II is setting sailing 2016, and I thought well that's perfect! I can set the story then, and have it play out from there.

Here's the description, and the story will be called "A Time and Place":

Stevie Baskara is the descendent of Rose Calvert (Dawson), and decides to take a trip with her family on the Titanic II. Story takes place in 2016. Zander Robbins is a musician and his band Gravity 4 are looking for a bassist—she's closer than he realizes. Gravity 4 decides to travel all around in search of the "perfect" bassist. He's the descendent of Titanic survivor Jack Dawson, believed to have sunk with the ship, but didn't. 104 years later, Jack's and Rose's spirits live on in their great grandchildren, and their story might just repeat. . . just without the sinking. . . hopefully.

Whatcha think? :D Seriously, You Know Me (reviewer), thank you so much for this idea! I fell in love with it all of a sudden and can't wait to write it!

~Chapter 1~

~Seven Years~

STEVIE's POV

Of all my friends, I'm still single. I choose to be single though, even though it can be lonely. . . especially on outings with my friends when they've got boyfriends following them around like puppies. But again, I choose to stay single. My last boyfriend was back in high school. . .

When I was sixteen. . .

I'm twenty-three now. . .

I'm not jealous of my friends having boyfriends. I don't want a guy in my life, not since my heartbreak—I know, I know. . . seven, eight years ago (who keeps count?) and I'm still hurt. Well. . . it's a long story.

The only thing I really want is a child. I care more for a child than I do for a husband, or a boyfriend. But I refuse to undergo artificial insemination—if I'm going to have a child, I want one the "old-fashioned" way.

The problem is, a lot of older guys are looking for a relationship. I'm not.

Just a child.

And you can't walk up to some random guy and ask for a child—well. . . you could, but there is so many things wrong with that.

The reason I'm bringing this all up is because I'm sitting by myself at the table. . . at my best friend's wedding. Kacey Simon is finally getting married. We were the last two of our group of friends to still not be married. . .

Now, it's just me.

Again, I don't really want a husband.

And don't get me wrong, I'm so happy for Kacey and her boyfriend Kevin Reed finally getting married, but that just means Kacey will have what I want. She'll have a family before me. I don't need a husband or a boyfriend to complete me though.

I just. . . you know what I want. I've said it enough.

The only thing that makes this wedding royally sucky—to me—is that the boy—man who broke my heart seven or eight years ago. . . is the groom's best friend.

And he's here.

Two tables away.

Staring.

Help.

"Excuse me, Miss?" a voice says, making me look up.

It's one of the waiters. He's holding a tray with a single glass of. . . champagne? But there's a note attached to the glass. The waiter has sandy blond hair and slightly chubby cheeks—he doesn't look like he could a hurt fly, and if he did he'd probably crawl into a ball and feel bad for a week or two.

"Yes?" I ask, raising a confused eyebrow.

"A young man asked this be sent over to you," he responds. I can feel the blood rushing out of my cheeks then. . . I know who the note's from already. Gulp. He hands me the drink and the note and I wait until he walks away before setting the glass down.

I don't drink, so the gesture was appreciated, but pointless.

I contemplate opening the note or just tossing it onto the floor and kicking under a table. My curiosity's piqued though, and I fumble to open the thin paper.

Hey, Steves—

Jeez, I haven't heard that nickname in years! When my ex and I broke up, and I forbade everyone from saying it.

It's been a while. . . meet me outside on the patio, we've got some catching up to do.

—Z

P.S. no need to bring your fists, love.

Zander Robbins, a.k.a. my ex-boyfriend.

He broke my heart and sometimes the pain still gets to me. I stand up from my seat at the table though, prepared to see him after seven, eight years—let's say seven—years of ignored phone calls and text messages, and even outings when we knew the other would be going.

Here goes. . . everything?

I walk out of the bistro onto the patio. Because Kacey and Kevin rented the place for the night, the only people here are guests to the wedding, and none of them are out on the patio at the moment. Just Zander, and he has his back turned to me.

I feel my throat close up. I think about turning back, but I'd probably come back out. I should've brought the champagne glass though. . . after all, he did buy it for me. Even though he knows I don't drink.

I turn around to go back and grab it, hoping he didn't hear me come out, but the sound of his laugh says he sees me. "Oh, Steves—" ow. . . so some feeling are back. . . hard, "You never were fond of drinking. I just needed the waiter to bring the note over and he wouldn't without something on the menu being sent over too," he explains.

I don't say anything for minute.

"Why champagne?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. My voice is a bit shaky, but thankfully Zander doesn't say anything about it. "Isn't that one of the most expensive drinks on the menu?"

"Well, yes, but it's a wedding, so everything's paid for," he answers.

"Oh," I mumble.

"I still paid for it," he says with a small smile.

"Even though you knew I'm not going to drink it?"

"Pretty much," he replies, shrugging and placing his empty glass down on one of the tables. "And anyway, what, I can't be nice?"

Anger filled me suddenly, and it came out quickly, "No actually! You can't!" I spit, huffing angrily. "If I remember correctly, you broke my heart! You. . . you don't have the right to be nice to me anymore, or even ask to talk to me, or anything!"

He purses his lips and says after a second, "You're out here anyway. I knew you'd be curious." He frowns and shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers, ashamed. "I've been beating myself up for years, Steves. For what I did to you. I tried to call and text you and anything I could to talk to you, but you never wanted to talk."

"I don't want an apology from you. You had your chance years ago, Zander," I say quietly.

He clenches his jaw, "Didn't you just hear me!? I tried to apologize. It was you who never wanted to listen!"

I scoff and with a roll of my eyes, I turn to go back into the bistro, but Zander stops me.

"You're not really angry with me, are you?" he smirks. His anger's dissipated, and now he's. . . enjoying this? What?

I scoff again, "Oh, no, I'm furious with you."

"No, you aren't."

"What makes you say that?"

"You've always loved to call me 'Robbins' when you're angry with me. You called me Zander, therefore you're not really angry with me." He's smiling a little, and now I understand where I screwed up.

Mentally giving myself a face-palm, I reply bitterly, "Whoops. Slipped out, don't expect it to happen again, Robbins."

"You're just embarrassed because you know I'm right. I was the one trying to apologize, it was you that wasn't listening. If anyone should be apologizing right now, it's you."

"Me!?" I explode, turning around sharply. "I'm sorry, me!? Oh, that's rich! I didn't break your heart, you broke mine. I didn't have to listen to your pathetic apology! I didn't want to because you hurt me!"

He frowns, remembering exactly how stubborn I am, and have always been. He walks by me and stops at the door, "If you change your mind and would like an apology—"

"—I won't change my mind. I didn't want one seven years ago and I don't want one today," I reply, crossing my arms. He gives a small, single nod and then goes back into the bistro. I feel like screaming and crying—of course I want an apology! But I don't want him to think I forgive him, because I never will.

Ever.

I feel bad. . . but I've felt worse. It's Kacey and Kevin's big day though, so I force a smile onto my lips, straighten my posture and go back inside like nothing had even happened.

A/N: And there you have it :) let me know what you thought? Thanks, loves!