Jack gazed at the stars sleepily. He tried to identify the constellations, to connect the stars like a game. It was harder on this side of the world. The air was clearer, but thick with cigarette smoke. They were hazy behind the thin layers of fog. In the valley below, the green of the plants looked almost fake.
Jack blinked, and he thought briefly of Rose. What was she doing, how was she doing? Did she miss him? Did she remember him? What has she been doing for the past ten years? He tapped his foot to the thudding beat of the party downstairs, closing his eyes. His head tilted to the side slightly, and in his mind played one of his favorite memories: dancing with Rose in the lower decks of the Titanic. He could see the sparkle in her eyes as if she stood before him now. He heard her laughter like a sweet ringing in his ears. His chest squeezed; he sighed.
"Gatsby!"
Jack opened his eyes lazily. He allowed a sly smile to spread across his face, until he realized who had called his name. Jack's eyes widened, and he stepped forward eagerly, grabbing hold onto the man's shoulders. "Tell me," he demanded breathlessly. His hand shook with anticipation. "Did you find her? Did you find Rose?"
The man smiled, and quickly patted Jack's shoulder. "I did, Jay. I found her."