hollywood system: art

The late afternoon sun left one of the most beautiful legacies in cinema—the romance between Rose and Jack—accompanied by a magnificent song by Celine Dion, whose delicate voice touched the hearts of lovers everywhere.

–We'll be working late today,– Cameron remarked. For them, the scenes stretched into the night, creating a distinct and distant atmosphere. The night brought contrasting challenges, full of varied setbacks. Sometimes, the darkness hindered filming, forcing them to rely on special lighting sources that created a dark ambiance while still fantastically highlighting every frame.

White tables were set up, and the recording set transformed into a nighttime dining space. Everyone was utterly exhausted—some yawned, others simply closed their eyes, attempting to snatch a half-hour's rest. Dinner consisted of rice with potato and tuna salad, cuts of chicken, slices of beef with plum sauce, boiled eggs, and a final dish of sweet apple salad.

Billy ate a serving of potato salad alongside generous cuts of meat and greens. His morning exercise routines left him ravenous, and on the other hand, he held the final chapters of his Titanic manuscript. The entire series amounted to 1,400 pages, a product of the countless hours he had poured into this monumental work.

–I hate eating at night,– Kate commented, wearing a flowing white dress paired with a brown wool coat.

Billy nodded in agreement, eyeing the substantial portion of her plate. Perhaps her comment was laced with sarcasm—she was eating almost as much as he was. Her round cheeks, framed by red hair and pale skin, stood out to him.

–I've nearly finished the book. I might send it to the editors next week so you can take a look. I've tried to give the series on the great ship the structure it deserves,– Billy murmured. He enjoyed sharing those quiet, thoughtful details, ones that could make women dream. His portrayal of Jack was an impassioned one—a man hopelessly in love, ready to give his life for Rose, treating her like a true princess. He imagined women devouring the book, losing themselves in it, and then watching the film only to think of him. That kind of resonance was worth more than a few dollars. Nothing was better than a legion of women defending his artistic vision.

–Oh my God, I'll read it and love every second of it. The opening chapters were amazing. I adored them,– Kate murmured through a mouthful of beef, her lips painted as if with rouge.

–Don't be too harsh. Writing romance is a challenge for me—crafting plots and fleshing out the nuances of love doesn't come easily. I've had some ideas but insisted my editors consult both a male and female romance expert to give me broader insights,– Billy replied, chewing a piece of meat.

–Don't forget to share it with me,– Kate said, aware of how unpredictable things could be. In the coming days, she knew she'd get hooked, reading nonstop and sharing her opinions at length.

The crew began preparing for the next scenes of the day.

103. INT. ROSE'S SUITE.

...1912. Like a dream, the elegant woodwork and satin upholstery rise from the rusty ruins. Jack is overwhelmed by the room's opulence. He places his sketchbook and drawing materials on the marble table.

ROSE: Will this light do? Don't artists need good lighting?

JACK: (in a bad French accent) True, I'm not used to working in such horrible conditions. (glancing at the paintings) Oh… Monet!

He crouches by the paintings stacked against the wall.

JACK: Isn't the use of color extraordinary? I once saw it… through a hole in the fence of this garden in Giverny.

She steps into the adjoining dressing room. He moves toward the safe, searching for the combination. It's captivating.

ROSE: Cal insists on bringing this thing everywhere.

JACK: Should I expect him back soon?

ROSE: Not while there's cigars and brandy to keep him occupied.

Clunk. She opens the safe, glancing at Jack's reflection in the mirror behind it. She retrieves the necklace and hands it to him, his hands trembling as he takes it.

JACK: What is it? A sapphire?

ROSE: A diamond. A very rare one. They call it the Heart of the Ocean.

Jack stares at a wealth beyond comprehension.

ROSE: I want you to draw me like one of your French girls. Wearing this. –She smiles.– Wearing only this.

He looks at her, stunned, unable to believe what she means. Surely, she'd wear lingerie.

–Cut,– Cameron calls, discussing some details with Rose. He picks up a piece of charcoal, preparing for the next scene—a moment requiring complete authenticity. Seeing Kate fully nude requires intense focus as he sketches a delicate, vivid image.

The unnecessary crew members leave, extras disperse, and only those essential remain.

...

104. INT. ROSE'S BEDROOM.

On the butterfly comb, Rose removes it from her hair. She shakes her head, letting her hair fall loosely over her shoulders. A fleeting 20-second shot.

105. INT. LIVING ROOM.

Jack arranges his pencils like surgical tools. His sketchbook lies open, ready. He glances up as she enters, draped in a silk kimono.

Kate is trembling, her nipples erect. Being nude in front of Billy makes her feel vulnerable, uncertain of how to act as she approaches him.

ROSE: The last thing I need is another portrait of me looking like a porcelain doll. As the paying client, I want what I want.

She smiles, handing him a dime, then steps back, letting the kimono slip from her shoulders. While the script suggests she'd be in lingerie, the only thing she wears now rests against her creamy chest. Her heart pounds as the fabric falls, revealing her fully.

Billy/Jack raises an eyebrow, momentarily stunned. Now fully in character, he gazes at her as a young man deeply in love, his emotions overflowing. His mouth opens slightly, his eyes tracing her form. His admiration grows with every glance, from her legs to her stomach, down to the floor, as his cheeks flush deeply. He imagines Rose in his arms, holding her close, and hearing her whisper his name, telling him she loves him.

ROSE: Tell me when you're ready.

JACK: On the bed—the… chair.

He gestures clumsily, faltering in his improvisation.

She reclines on the chaise lounge, curling up cat-like into the pose for the sketch... almost.

JACK: Just… bend your left leg slightly and… lower your head. Eyes on me. Perfect.

He adjusts his position, his gaze fixed on her. His eyes keep returning to her chest as he breathes deeply, his cheeks burning. Sweat forms on his brow, and his arm trembles slightly as he begins to draw.

ROSE: I think you're blushing, Mr. Great Artist. I can't imagine Monsieur Monet blushing.

JACK: Sweating. –He grins.– Landscapes don't do this to me.

Jack focuses on his sketchpad, his eyes darting over the edge to capture every detail. His hands move with skill, his charcoal tracing and erasing, forming a stunning work of art.

...

When the cameras capture the completed drawing, Cameron yells, "Cut." Kate slips back into her kimono, retreating to her private space. She feels her body's intense reaction—her skin tingling, her nipples hypersensitive as though thousands of nerve endings have come alive. She's weakened, utterly and inexplicably aroused.

Staring into the mirror, she tries to steady herself. It's the first time something like this has happened.