Chapter Text
He showed up at my door that morning in suit and tie. Trying to prove his calmness to me I assumed, reverting to his old self in an attempt to assure me he was quite alright. Though truly thinking back, perhaps the suit was just a speckle of his natural glamour amongst the absolute train wreck that was the man that stood in front of me. I was there during the crying that night - and that morning - and that following night.
Maybe that was it. An apology. This hindered me quite perplexed, as I sincerely thought that no apology would be needed. Reasoning was present for the actions that I had taken that day, and therefore my brain had it all thought out. No apology needed, quite frankly I assumed the opposite would be in order.
Barging into his personal affairs like my life depended on it when in reality, someone's life depended on it. His.
I knew all too well the impact that day could have potentially had on me - on the world around us. The entire world working in spite and sordid negligence against the man that they built up to be great.
The obsessed, depressed, not at all stressed peers invading in large waves only to stare and photograph the poor man's casket.
I could imagine feeling a raffish and disreputable antagonism, only calmed by the steps taken to forget - as atrocious as they would have been.
What I hope to never know however, is what could have happened that faithful day - had I not stayed by my friend's side. I hope to never repeat it. For such a tremendous man to be brought to nothing with the single pull of a trigger - it would be a dreadful state of affairs.
Though by far the largest understatement I have ever documented, I prove to remain completely truthful in my opinion of the matter.
Never in my life had I expected one man to leave such a mark on me.
I had only just returned home from the hospital. The wound had somewhat healed, but my shoulder was still rather sore from the bullet. I had to wear a sling for the longest time.
Still, he was stood. Mr. Jay Gatsby. Staring. As if he had seen a ghost. His eyes wide and glistening, cheeks red, brows furrowed in concern. That same old smile I could recall had softened into almost a frown and we stared in shock for a moment before he finally spoke.
"Hello, Old Sport."
He began as he finally made a move and walked past me into my home. Usually the kind of man to realise that perhaps this was considered rude, Gatsby must have been rather set on what he wanted to do for this to be his course of action.
"I apologise for my intrusion, but I just thought I would come by to let you know that - well - your medical bills."
I hadn't considered the medical bills. The cost of medical care had been steadily rising, but caught up in all of the chaos - it had completely slipped my mind. He had continued into the sitting room as I shut the front door and trailed behind him.
"It would be only fair for me to pay them off,"
He continued - keeping in mind, I hadn't even spoken a word since his arrival.
"Considering I am at fault for the entire situation."
I had to stop him.
"Mr. Gatsby, there's really no need at all. I'm quite able to manage my own financial affairs."
I smiled and he stood, idly, as I took a seat.
"What will it be? Around one hundred? It should be manageable."
He interrupted me right then and there.
"No, no, no,"
He shook his head, almost refusing to sit.
"I insist. It's more than fair, Old Sport - more than fair."
"Is it?"
I inquired.
To me, in no way was that fair in any meaning of the word. I had decided to run when I did. I had decided to take that bullet. If it were anyone's fault, it were mine. Therefore, it was only fair for me to pay off my own medical bills. Selling bonds was not the best paying job by far, though my point still stood. For another man to pay my bills for me, I would have felt utterly censurable.
"I would be more than happy to assist in this."
Gatsby went on.
"It would definitely help clear my conscience to know that I have done something to aid in your recovery."
While insanely kind of this man, I just felt I could not accept. Though - he had been through a tremendous amount of tragedy in the past few months.
"Will you at least let me pay you back?"
At the time, I thought this would have been a good compromise - Gatsby must not have. His face scrunched up and he sat down finally, in a bit of a huff.
"It would be better if you just agreed."
He stated as if it were that simple.
"As stubborn as always?"
I joked with him, only causing his frown to become more prominent.
"Alright, alright. I'll let you pay it off. Now, would you like some tea?"
And before I knew it, we were sat once again in the sitting room facing one another as Gatsby stared longingly towards the dock - Daisy's dock - where it was too bright a day for the green light to be seen.
"I'm sorry, Jay."
I finally spoke, breaking the silence completely.
"Sorry? Sorry for what? Old Sport - as I made clear before: I would like to pay for your bills! I'd like to!"
"No, not the bills."
I interrupted, laughing softly at how Gatsby's mind seemed to work.
"Then what's the matter?"
"Everything."
In my head, that was right - everything.
There was not a single thing that felt right in that moment. Apart from having a friend there with me, everything had felt like nothing. The wine, once again nothing but water.
"You've been put through an immense amount, and still you come and see if I'm alright - which I am, by the way. So thank you, and sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry about."
He responded, voice sounding as soft as velvet.
"I, on the other hand..."
He propped his stick up against the seat and leaned forward, taking his tea.
"I'm so, very sorry for wrapping you and Daisy up in to all of this. You've done nothing but remain loyal to me. You didn't even turn away after I lied to you, but I've been nothing but selfish."
Selfish?
Gatsby had loved my cousin for five years. I wouldn't call it an obsession - he had developed more of an infatuation towards her. A strong interest. Never once had he given up on his aspirations. He was willing to take the blame for the death of an innocent just to clear her name. He threw massive parties, hoping for her to just wander in one day. If there was anything more selfless than that, I would be extremely surprised.
"Jay, you've done nothing of the sort. I can tell you with full confidence that everything happened in the way it was supposed to. Even if it was... well... a struggle."
"I don't care if it was a 'struggle'. What matters to me is that I lost Daisy - again - and got you hurt!"
He placed his now empty cup and saucer onto the table and stood.
"And you want to 'fix' that through more selfless acts?"
I questioned his intentions as I shifted my gaze up towards him.
"I hope you realise that - if you continue to be this careless towards yourself, you'll have nothing left to give."
I also stood, trying to emphasise my point towards him through body language.
"Ah, that's where you're wrong, Old Sport."
He smiled - that understanding smile as he grabbed his stick.
"There's always something to give. You just have to find it. You have to find it - seek it out. Time, effort, and money are what I have. An abundance of it all! I don't see myself as a greedy man. It would be improper. So what I don't need, I'll gladly give to those who need it more. Goodbye, Old Sport!"
He had left just as quickly as he had arrived. I was left absolutely dumbfounded. What on God's Earth did he mean by that?
Once again alone, I began to think long and hard about the past few month's events.
It started at the end of summer, my birthday. I had gone home incredibly on edge (rightfully so). I had assumed that sleep would calm my nerves - however the tension must have seeped deep into my mind, causing for an extremely unpleasant dream. One that I would prefer not to recall by mentioning as I write this.
It was rather early when I decided to ensure Gatsby's safety. I felt an overwhelming unease - an agitation that could not be easily appeased. Therefore, I went straight to my neighbour's house.
Later, I was fully aware that I had work to attend to, but my instinct directed for me to stay. Little did I know, the malignant chain of circumstances that had formed that day had lead to the man's life being in danger - and I still wince at the thought of what could have been - if only I had gotten to work on time.
In my mind, there are a lot of things that bewilder me. Even after years of growth and knowledge I have acquired, it has always astounded me that one movement - one, singular change can impact an entire state of being. Alive - dead - some sort of dammed in between... It's all reliant on one simple action.
My thoughts ran rampant; so very fast that I could barely collect them until they finally ceased and left me with a single idea. A single thought. One that meant more to me in that moment than any other.
At least Gatsby was safe.