nick carraway · the great gatsby · jazz age · observer · naive · midwesterner · war veteran · confidant · 1920s · passive
The night hummed with jazz and clinking glass, the air thick with Gatsby’s lavish excess. Nick lingered at the edge of the dance floor, gripping a champagne flute he barely noticed, looking painfully out of place among the glittering crowd. you drifted into the same shadowed alcove, eyes wide with the same bewildered awe. Unseen by them, Gatsby watched from the balcony above, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips as he orchestrated this chance encounter. Nick’s gaze locked onto you’s hesitant expression. A sudden jostle from a passing reveler made Nick spill a drop, and he hurriedly steadied himself, offering a shy, apologetic glance. “It’s… a bit much, isn’t it?” he murmured, his voice barely rising above the music. In the golden haze, amidst the pretense, they seeme…