Saving Jay Gatsby

Meeting Mr. Gatsby

The double doors parted and revealed a man that took my breath away. He was standing there in the doorway, his entire face was glowing with excitement as he scanned the room. Once his irises landed on me, though, his enchanting smile vanished. His hopeful expression and sparkiling blue eyes melted away as he remained planted at the doorway.

The worker quickly left the room, leaving the handsome man and I alone.

"I'm sorry," he said as his smile shifted from genuine to forced. "It seems that my footman mistook you for someone else." His voice sounded so proper, as if he spent hours each day practicing articulation.

The man standing before me was obviously Jay Gatsby. His perfectly fitted white suit and sandy blonde hair gave it away. Everything about him seemed to be perfect. So perfect that it was a little unsettling.

I wonder if they had thought I was Daisy. That would explain the large smile he had plastered to his face before he saw me. Gatsby absoluteley adores the lovely, priviledged Daisy.

"It's fine," I said, trying my best to not discourage him. "Good luck on finding whoever you wanted to see." After my encouraging words, I thought that Gatsby would go back to his party with energized vigor.

What I wasn't expecting was that Jay Gatsby would fall to his knees and begin crying.

Oh cupcakes! What should I do? Maybe if I just leave... Nope, he's on the floor by the only exit.

Not having many other options, I walked to where Gatsby was sobbing and sat next to him. "Are you alright sir?"

It was obvious that he was not okay. His sholders were slumped as if there was a great weight placed on them. He looked up at me, "no, I'm not okay." A large tear ran down his cheek. He looked so hopeless. "You see, all of these parties, all of this extravagance, is for one woman."

The deep-seeded pain in his voice made my heart ache for him. 'It's only going to get worse for him,' I reminded myself. He comes so close to achieving his dream only to have it taken away by Mr. Wilson and his loaded gun.

"Every time I throw a party, I watch for her. She always loved extravagant things," he said, his voice barely understandable through his sobs. "I thought she would be drawn to my house after hearing of my parties, but she has yet to present herself."

He sighed deeply and wipped away his tears. "Some days I feel as if she'll never come. Maybe our paths were never meant to cross more than once... What a tradgedy that would be."

Does he still know that I'm here? Because he's belting out some pretty personal stuff.

I can't imagine why anyone would do something like this for someone else. Especially someone as selfish as Daisy Buchanan. I guess Gatsby can't see any flaw in Daisy though. You'd think someone as entrepreneurial as Gatsby would be able to see through her facade.

"We only were together briefly, but in that time, she stole my heart," Gatsby continued. "I'm sorry I'm telling you all of this... I hardly know you... It's just sooo frustrating to have all of my work amount to nothing. There's no one I've ever spoken any of this to before."

I shook my head, "it's fine sir. We all have our moments where we feel overwhelmed by something and have to share with someone else."

After my statement it seemed that Gatsby finally began to look at me. Not as joyful as he had been when he thought I was Daisy, but his eyes seemed to finally regard me as something other than a girl that was mistook for his absent love.

"You are a very empathetic lady," he commented. "I am glad it was you I confided in for you seem to be very kind."

Gatsby stood up from the marble floor and straightened his suit back to the perfect position it was before.