A little Party Never Killed Nobody

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During the time period I had  spent caring for Daisy at Tom's place, I was released from my work in Upstate New York. The day I had gotten the phone call, my mind had been glazed over and tired, as rain poured and thudded against the pavement of the tiled streets and cars. It was only when laying back down in my bed, feeling devastated as I was, that I saw the blinking lights of west egg from my window. At that exact moment, I remembered my purpose.
         Picking up the phone that I had left dangling from the receiver, I dialed Gatsby's number. The phone rang, again and again for ages.
         "Hello?"
        I jumped as the voice came through, half surprised he had answered.
         "Gatsby, It's me, Nick. Jay, how long has it been since you have thrown one of those 'big parties' of yours?"
           "Nick, you and I both know those are done with. Where are you? Have you gone back to you job?
       "No, no, you don't understand. Im taking care of Daisy, and I need you to throw a party."
       "But, old sport, what about Tom?"
       "Tom won't notice if it's at night, and if there are many faces and other automobiles to distract from his car, he won't notice."
        There was silence on the other end.
         "Believe me on this. Daisy, she's different. She has changed."
          With a deep sigh, Gatsby agreed rather easily.
         "A little party never killed nobody, I guess. If you say so, and if You'll be coming as well, old sport, I'll throw one just for this."
           That night, once the beach emerged in a deep blue and darkness, Gatsby's house-alive again-, thrived. Gatsby, despite still having his name whispered on street corners when he passed, or the controversy that had surrounded him and wilson all of those many months ago, did not hesitate to throw a party.
            As Daisy and I walked in, we were greeted with many people, floating about the house, conversing with each other. There were dancers, people serving many platters of food at his bar, and women arguing with their husbands in the background. Daisy held onto my arm, as we bumped into countless people.
            We noticed that the congestion increased as we got inside. Commotion was everywhere, voices traveling above the ensemble of saxophones, above cork slinger and the dancing glass shoes in the ballroom.
          Daisy vanished from my sight. Somewhere in the crowd, she had discovered Gatsby.
  In my search to find Daisy again, I stumbled across a familiar face myself. He was a short, stout guy, with big round glasses and a goofy smile. My search coming out hopeless, I sat at one of the tables outside. Owl eyes sat beside me.
        Once in awhile, he would glance down at his watch again, then back at me again, I leaned on the palm of my hand, the atmosphere of the buzzing people finally getting to me.
         Meanwhile, Daisy and Gatsby had wandered far from the lights of the party, into his garden. They walked on the secret trail, hidden away by the many floating people.
         Moonlight seeped on the dirt in front of them, blotting the ground with patches of light from the night sky. Gatsby glanced over to her lovingly. Daisy looked over to him, as if he were a familiar stranger.
           Daisy had been asked if she had remembered many things- she remembered images and feelings, which were both topics that she struggled to explain to Gatsby. When the two had reached the fountain, Gatsby turned to Daisy.
           "I wanted to show you this."
         Gatsby, gently grabbing her hand, led her closer to the  fountain. It was a torch in the middle of the trees, her face glowing with its brilliance.
           "It's,.. It's beautiful."
        Her voice barely reaching above a whisper, she turned toward Gatsby as well. Something magical awoke inside of Gatsby, as Daisy's large eyes looked up to him with wonder. It was the same look that he recognized from those many years ago,  back when they had first met each other on that one night in mid-July. Her relaxed expression invited the love that had been lost in those missing years apart.
        For a moment, there was a pause between them, until Gatsby pulled her in closer.
   At his touch, roses bloomed in her cheeks. Away from the glamour of his house, and the busy life of West egg, time seemed to relax for the few minutes they had to themselves.
Vines wrapped around the fountain and the trees, tulips blooming in their crevices. Sheltered by the overgrowth of his garden, and the coolness given off by  moonlight, no prying eyes or headlines came to look upon them. They both were living in the same dream, that had seeped  into their own separate worlds, bringing them together in a wish that was the reality happening before them.
         At his lips touch, Daisy suddenly withdrew from him slightly, gazing at Gatsby with a new sense of familiarity. At his lips touch, she remembered everything. Gatsby, in his glowing white suit, and Daisy, wearing the last of the shirts Gatsby had spared, formed one shadow from the light of the fountain before them. Daisy was pulled in once again, the golden lights from the party in the back patio catching her eye. She looked away from them, feeling no specific emotion at all. As they were wrapped into each other once again, Daisy and Gatsby had forgotten that there was even a party at all.

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