I didn't know a soul there. As I surveyed my surroundings, not a single face struck even a sliver of recognition into my mind. In truth, I didn't know for sure why I had been invited. I lingered alone near the entrance, staring in awe of the luxurious mansion that stood before me. It must have looked a bit out of the ordinary to come to such a prestigious and honorable event alone, but I simply had to come and see why this man's parties were so frequently talked about. Slowly making my way through the crowds of people, my two-inch heels clicking softly on the solid marble floor, I understood what all the fuss was about. The extravagant place had a lavish yet humble feel to it, as though every single dollar spent had been fully earned.

The hand-sewn sequins on my dress glimmered in the dim light, and for once I felt a bit overdressed for the occasion. I wore a gold sequined dress that nearly brushed the ground along with my mother's glamorous pearls and my hair pinned up above my ears. But most of the girls were wearing knee-length attire with striking embellishments which allowed them to dance to the tumultuous jazz music that rattled the dishes and nearly shattered the champagne glasses. There was a chatty group of young girls to the left of me conjuring up rumors about how one man could come in to such a great deal of wealth. It wouldn't be surprising if these rumors were true though, as I, myself, searched through the dancing couples and boisterous laughter of the party for the mysterious character who had invited me here tonight.What I found was no more than an honest, plain looking man modestly watching his guests in satisfaction. With this realization, I truly began to both wonder about and admire this man.

I reluctantly strode up to him to introduce myself, but I wasn't exactly sure of how I should do it. After all, he had known enough about me to request my presence here tonight, yet I had scarcely heard his name before tonight. He was a dashing man who looked to be in his early thirties. He was wearing an elegant grey suit paired with a suitable black tie and newly polished shoes. If it wasn't his mansion, it was his apparel that made it unmistakably clear, that he had quite a pool of disposable income on his hands.

We made our introductions—him as the legendary Gatsby—and I finally asked him the question that had been lingering in the back of my mind all night: how did he know me? His answer was simple. He didn't. He had heard from his acquaintances that I was classical pianist new to the town, searching for an opportunity. His 'acquaintances' must have been very reliable, because not a word of what he said was incorrect. In fact, he mentioned that he might have a job for me. At this, my heart soared; I hadn't had an enjoyable job in a few years and had been regrettably living with a friend.

We discussed this among other things until I found that three hours had passed. I finally realized I should be heading home. Just before I stepped from the warmth of his home out into the black chill of night, he turned to me and asked suddenly why I had decided to come to a party in which I wasn't acquainted with the host or any of the guests. For an unknown reason, my cautious lips could not utter the word that my sensible mind projected. Curiosity.