First off, I'm super excited for the Great Gatsby film coming out in the summer. Or to be more specific, on May 10th, 2013. Leonardo DiCaprio as Jay Gatsby made me fangirl and I just had to read the book and watch both trailers again. In anticipation of the film, I thought it would be cool if I wrote a fanfic for the story. So, here's a love story for Gatsby involving an OC and both Jordan Baker and his best friend Nick Carraway. The OC's name is Rosalie Sinclaire, or Rosie for short. I don't own the fabulous world of The Great Gatsby since F. Scott Fitzgerald does, but I do own the characters of Rosie and the Sinclaire family. Here's Chapter 1, guys!
New York in the 1920s. What can be said about it that hasn't been already said? The leaves changing color as the Fall season was approaching, as there was a slight wind in the air to accompany it. Moving from Boston to Long Island was a long trip but the home I had purchased here was going to be worth it, or so I had hoped. I had heard that a colleague of mine was living in this fine neighborhood and it made the move less stressful. Nick Carraway and his family were friends of my family. There wasn't a single party that the Carraways or the Sinclaires had where one or the other family simply did not attend. It even became customary that we invited them to family vacations or to just have dinner with us. Hence why I'm so close with Nick. He's been my best friend since I can remember and seeing him after all these years was going to make me happy. But there was something I had been told before moving here. My other neighbor was reclusive yet threw the most wonderful parties and galas at his humble abode. They say that his name is Gatsby, and that, while he has a beautiful mansion, he goes through no expense in throwing the most lavish and extravagant parties. And yet not a single soul has seen what he looks like! How can one attend a party without meeting the host and thank him when the party is over? It doesn't work like that. But I guess that's how Gatsby intended it to be at his parties.
Reaching the new home brought a smile to my face since a familiar face was already waiting for me on the steps. I got out of my car and ran to my best friend who held out his arms, open and waiting for a hug. Pulling him in for a hug, I caught a scent of fresh cologne which led me to think that he hadn't been here very long. The last time I had spoken to Nick was when he sent me a telegram on how he had made it big as a bond broker, establishing more wealth to the Carraway family name. My father was a bond broker himself, which I suppose was how Nick got involved. But he wanted to be a big boy and make it big on his own without any help from friends or family, and he did so which made all of us proud of him.
"My goodness, it's been so long since Yale, Nick! How have you been?!" I heard him laugh and he pulled away to answer. While I was wearing a simple red and black laced day dress with heels and a black headband wrapped around my short hair, Nick was sporting an ivy league sweater, grey slacks, and black shoes while his dark hair was slicked back and allowed his blue eyes to shine in the sunlight.
"Oh, you know, the usual. Business is doing well and then I hear you were coming to Long Island from Boston. Care to explain, young lady? I thought you wanted to leave Minnesota to go and see the sights of Boston." I bashfully nudged him in the shoulder.
"Oh come now, Nick. Can't I just say that I wanted a change in scenery? Living in a small rural town in Boston was nice for a little while. But I wanted to get away from it all and live in a big city. Your parents told me that you were here and so I thought I would move nearby to keep you company. I think your Mom is starting to lose it though. She keeps insisting that you get a girlfriend so that she can start planning a wedding but I always defend you by saying 'he'll find the right girl, Mrs. Carraway. You have nothing to worry about.'" He laughed and it made me smile to hear my best friend laugh once more.
"I'm glad to know I have someone defending me. How's Charlie doing?" Nick was referring to my older brother Charlie Sinclaire who was currently fighting in the war. Nick was there at the dinner when he announced that he was going to go and fight. My parents thought he was being very brave but I knew that I was going to be the one who was afraid for him. Afraid of him never coming back home, afraid that he wasn't going to be the same Charlie that I knew. All of those ideas plagued my mind until I would get a telegram that told me his progress during combat. It's been a few months, at least three or four, since I last spoke to him.
"I don't really know, Nick. It's been a little while since the last telegram I got from him. And I'm starting to worry about him out there." He rubbed my shoulder with his left hand.
"I'm sure he's fine. Last time I checked, he almost tried to tackle me when we played football that one summer before Yale." Nick had gone to war as well with Charlie. But he was able to come home earlier than my brother, who was willing to sign up for another tour in the Military. Nick and Charlie grew to become good friends like we were and it made my parents happy to know that Charlie wasn't alone fighting during the first few months of war. I giggled and it was there that I saw the moving men begin to put things inside the house. "So it is true then! You really are moving into this neighborhood! There's something I have to tell you then, Rosie."
"You see that house that's just a few doors down to the left?" He pointed towards a mansion that was much bigger than the one that I had purchased and the one Nick owned. There were only a few cars in the driveway which would imply that the owner of this particular mansion had both old money. You see, there was a change coming about in the economic world. There were those of us who were old money and those who were new money. Those who were Old Money were the ones who had been wealthy for many years and the New Money got lucky. They were the ones who weren't born into this lifestyle, but rather worked their way up to the status they have now amongst the socialites in New York or wherever they were. But it's just an assumption since I could be wrong. You wouldn't believe how many times I met someone who claimed that they were from Old Money but were actually New Money. It's not like I have a thing against people like that, but I often feel sorry for them for the torment and the harsh criticism they go through. Sometimes, people who are Old Money were just plain flat out rude. Nick, Charlie, and I are all from Old Money so we grew up with wealth and were raised to be polite and respectful samaritans.
"What about that house, Nick?" He fixed himself since he was pointing at the house for what seemed like forever.
"Folks around here are saying that there is going to be a party there tonight. Why don't you go? I'm going to be meeting a lady friend there tonight and I was wondering, since you just moved here and all, would you be interested in going?" I knew that Nick wasn't the party type since he hardly enjoyed going to parties when we were growing up unless I went with him. Somehow, I was able to make him happy when I went with him which made his mother assume that, for a long time, we were in a relationship. Of course, I would deny those allegations every time it was brought up at the dinner table, telling Mr. and Mrs. Carraway that Nick and I were merely childhood friends and nothing more than that. I considered Nick to be a brother figure in my life since Charlie was away at war, not leaving a note as to when he would return home.
"Sure, Nick, I'll go. What time?" He looked at the watch that I remember getting him one year for Christmas, and it surprised me that he still wore it to this day, as he arched an eyebrow.
"Let's say around 7pm, tonight? The party starts around 6 but you know how people like to be 'fashionably' late. Oh, and wear something pretty. I hear that we may get a chance to meet Mr. Gatsby himself tonight if we're lucky." There it was again. The name that had plagued my mind ever since I told Nick that I was moving to this side of the neighborhood in West Egg. All I had been hearing was the name Gatsby and the stories that accompanied it. I heard that that he was a war veteran, a gentleman who hails from Old Money, and that he was like a ghost in that he hardly ever attended his own parties. That last one I had heard from Nick, though.
"That sounds swell, Nick. Unless you want to help me move into my new home, I guess I'll be seeing you later?" He shook his head.
"Of course I'll help you, Rosie! What are friends for, am I right?" I laughed again and nodded my head.
It was good to see my best friend again and start a fresh new life. West Egg had a ton of possibilities for new life and new beginnings, and I was going to obtain one. With one last look at the Gatsby mansion, I headed inside my own home. Something was telling me that a whole lot was going to be happening at this party tonight. Whether it was good or bad, that I didn't know. But what I did know was that I was going to be there with my best friend, his lady friend... Wait a minute! Nick Carraway has a lady friend and he never told me?!
"Nick Carraway, you never told me anything about your lady friend. The one that you said you were going to meet up with at this party tonight. Come on inside, I'll make some iced tea and you can start telling me everything. I have simply got to know about this girl!" I dragged him by the arm and pulled him inside the house as I quickly saw that he was starting to turn a slight shade of pink.
When the moving men finally finished their job, I sat down with Nick on the chairs that I had set up on the back porch and poured iced tea into two separate glasses. Gingerly, he ran a hand through his slicked back hair and I could tell talking about his lady friend made him bashful. I had found out that her name was Jordan Baker and that she was a professional golfer who liked to win. She hails from Kentucky and that her only relative was her Aunt. Nick also told me that in the whole Old Money versus New Money ordeal, Jordan was from New Money since she was an excellent golfer. This impressed me and I was glad to know that my best friend had found a young lady who would keep him company in ways that I could never do. I loved Nick, yes, but more like a sister. He was family to me as I said before.
I said farewell to Nick as he and I were going to get ready for the party. After all this time, I was glad to know that my best friend was happy. And now here I was going to a party with him and hoping to get a glance of the mysterious Gatsby himself. Things were going to get interesting indeed!