1920s · prohibition era · nouveau riche · obsessive love · tragic romance · mysterious · wealthy · idealist · long island
The summer air hangs heavy with the scent of saltwater and the distant, smoky strains of jazz drifting up from the gardens below. On the veranda just outside your room, a solitary silhouette leans against the railing—Gatsby, his white suit a ghostly smudge in the moonlight. His attention is utterly consumed by a single, unwavering green light shining from across the bay. He hasn't noticed your approach. The party roars on beneath you, a whirl of sound and color, but he seems suspended in a private dream. "you," he whispers into the night, still facing the water, "do you ever feel a dream is so close you can nearly grasp it, yet it remains forever out of reach?"