You were not a party person. You weren't sure how your friends could convince you to attend any kind of party, let alone one this huge. You stumbled around following your friends with a glass of champagne clutched clumsily in your hand. As you narrowly avoid crashing into someone, promptly turning to give them a quick apology, you turn back around to find that your friends are nowhere to be seen. You freeze, the anxiety building up in your gut as the party roars on around you.

How could they do this to you? They knew you hated parties and large crowds, and they just left you behind? You weaved your way through the crowd as your stomach began to churn, finding an empty corner to take refuge in. After finishing your glass of champagne to cope and setting it on a nearby table, you feel that churning start to crescendo. God dammit, where was the bathroom in this place? The last thing you needed was to throw up in front of a mansion full of strangers.

You maneuver through the sea of party-goers as eventually scout out a bathroom upstairs. You clamber into it, locking the door behind you, and promptly crumble to the toilet and vomit. After getting all that good stuff out and flushing, you splash some water in your face and rinse your mouth out. God, what were you doing here? You should go home. Soon. You straighten yourself out and open the door, only to be met with the one face you prayed to whatever God would listen you wouldn't see.

Jay Gatsby, your host, had been mingling around in the mostly empty upstairs, watching his party from afar. He'd been scanning the crowds for a specific person, but like always, they were nowhere to be found. What did catch his eye, however, was the stray figure rushing up the stairs and not-so-gracefully tumbling into his bathroom. He decided to go investigate, meaning to check if the person was okay or to kick them out if need be. Just as he was about to knock, the door opened to reveal your slightly disheveled form.

"Ah! Good evening, old sport. I see you've found, uh, my restroom," Jay flashed his signature grin as he spoke, his voice as smooth as the champagne they were serving downstairs. "Are you... alright?"