In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice.
"Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone," he told me, "Just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had."
As a consequence I'm inclined to reserve all judgments, but even I have a limit...
Back then, all of us drank too much. The more in tune with the times we were, the more we drank, and none of us contributed anything new.
As Logan spoke, head held in his hands, gaze fixed on the liquid contained in the small tea cup that had been placed in front of him, Emile Picani listened carefully, searching through his desk to find the folder that contained Logan's information.
"When I came back from New York, I was disgusted," Logan quietly explained, doing everything he could to hold back the grief in his voice.
"I see, Mr. Carraway," Emile replied simply, picking out Logan's folder and flipping it open, gaze scanning over the symptoms of his patient, Morbidly Alcoholic, Insomniac, Fits of Anger, Anxiety...
"Disgusted with everyone and everything," Logan still focused on the tea, ears picking up the light footsteps of the therapist that took a seat in the chair in front of him, "Only one man was exempt from my disgust."
Emile's gaze shifted from the folder to Logan, "One man, Mr. Carraway?"
Logan felt a lump form in his throat as he forced out the name of the man who changed his life in just such a way, "Gatsby..."
"Is he a friend of yours?" Emile asked carefully, jotting down the information in his notes.
Logan stood up from his place on the sofa, walking over to the snow covered window that was behind Picani's desk, recalling a distant memory, "He was the single most hopeful person I've ever met," he explained, "It was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic readiness that I have never found in any other person and which it is not likely I shall ever find again," he spoke softly, gently, stepping carefully around the room, "He was like... he was like one of those machines that register earthquakes a thousand miles away."
Emile watched Logan pause his movements, hand resting on a small item that was on his desk. He closed the folder, offering a small smile to his patient, "Where'd you meet him?" he asked.
The question earned him an averted gaze that fixed itself back out the window.
"At a..." Logan walked back over to the window, "At a party..." he couldn't help the biter feeling that settled in his stomach, "In New York..."
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(A/N): Aw, sheet, here we go again with the Sanders Sides AU's... Super short chapter, I know, but the next bunch of chapters should be super long, because... you know... The Great Gatsby has a lot to cover.
Anyways, hope you all are excited for this as much as I am! Buckle up guys, gals, and non-binary pals, this is going to be a wild ride.