Thanks so much for the reviews, guys. It means a lot. Well, here's the next chapter. Enjoy.

I woke up late the next morning. Jordan had deserted her couch, and I could hear voices – Tom and Myrtle – outside. Gatsby was still on the floor, sound asleep. I sighed, and crawled off my comfortable perch slowly. I pushed the door open quietly, and peered outside. Jordan was standing in the hallway. The door into the lobby was slightly ajar, and I could hear Tom and Myrtle discussing something. I scooted outside.

"They were kissing," Jordan whispered, smiling at me.

"Yeah?" I asked, although I had no doubt she was right, and it wasn't a far-fetched idea to presume, anyway.

"They're arguing now, probably about what they're going to do. I think he's cuing her in on his trouble in paradise."

"He's going to try and cling to both of them," I half laughed, half whispered. "Even with what's going on around us, he'll still try to keep a hold of both of them." Jordan edged closer to the door, peering through the tiny slit between it and the wall.

"Listen," she instructed me softly. I did.

"You're insane if you thing George won't notice something when we're all trapped in here together. And Daisy, I'm sure she already knows. You're so careless, it'd be a wonder if she didn't," Myrtle muttered.

"You're the fool calling me all the time while she's around!" Tom objected.

"Listen, I'm just saying we need to be careful. We can make it work," she pleaded, realizing she was close to losing him.

"No!" Tom replied definitely. "We're done." I was surprised. Tom just broke it off. He started towards the door. Jordan jumped and scurried back into our room, and I hurried shortly behind her. She closed the door quietly, wincing when it creaked.

"That was close," she breathed. Behind us, Gatsby stirred. We turned and watched as he propped himself up on one elbow and stared at my jacket. I had totally forgotten about it, although I had intended on removing it before Gatsby awoke.

"Nick," he said groggily, turning to me. "Is this your jacket?" I smiled at the confused look on his face. He sat up, fingering my jacket lightly.

"It is," I replied. "You looked cold." He stood, shrugged, and smiled.

"It's not as hot today as it was yesterday," he announced. "Or at least not yet. It did get considerably cold last night. Thank you, old sport. Are we the only ones awake right now?"

"No," Jordan said. "Tom and his girl are up."

"Myrtle?" he asked.

"They were arguing about something. Tom told her he's done with her. He probably wants to focus on Daisy right now. She'll walk away, and she has a reason to already, but he'll be able to get Myrtle back anytime he wants." Gatsby frowned. He didn't like the idea of Tom focusing on Daisy; he was already a formidable opponent when he was focusing on another woman at the same time. Could Gatsby really compete with her husband?

"That's not good," he muttered, pacing circles around the room. "Leave it to Tom to do something as slippery as this. He's a hypocrite. A stupid hypocrite and I'm sick to death of him." Suddenly, he froze. A sly smile spread across his face. "That all doesn't matter. Daisy loves me. She never loved him. She'll leave him, and he can go crawling back to Myrtle, and I hope she rejects him."

"How do you suppose you'll make her leave him?" Jordan asked curiously.

"I don't know. Not yet, anyway. It'll come to me. Why don't we have breakfast?" he replied, moving towards the door, slipping his jacket back on. I picked mine off the floor, and the three of us made our way into the lobby, where we left all of the stockpiled supplies. Upon hearing us exit, Tom and a sleepy Daisy followed, and then Myrtle and George soon after. We each took small provisions. Myrtle and Tom exchanged occasional, awkward glances as he poured some cereal into a cup and she cut an apple into slices. We all gathered around on the lobby chairs and ate, talking about anything and everything to keep underlying tensions at bay.

Soon, breakfast was done, and we were back to before, floating around in our own little bubbles, trying to stay out of everyone else's drama while sorting out our own. I didn't have my own drama, but somehow I was caught in a big tangled mess of mayhem and insanity. Jordan and I sat in the lobby alone and chatted about some inconsequential, frivolous thing for a while, before heading back to our room, to do God knows what. Our room was empty when we got to it. For a moment, I wondered if he was at it again with Tom, when I noticed him standing in the hallway with a look on his face of sheer disbelief. Curious, Jordan and I stood next to him. He was peering into Myrtle and George's room. We followed his gaze.

"Holy crap," Jordan muttered. "Daisy!?" she exclaimed, perplexed, shocked by the sight in front of her. I gawked at the scene, my jaw dropped in astonishment. Daisy filed out of her room, followed by George, and Jordan gasped, "It's not her."

"Gatsby?" I stuttered. Gatsby froze. He turned to us in surprise and quickly groped along the floor for his shirt. A horrified Myrtle, half-naked, snatched his jacket up off the floor and covered herself with it. George moaned the same word, no, repeatedly, almost inaudibly. Tom blinked. He brought his hands to his face, then brought them back down and shoved them in his pocket. He cursed, spun around, and walked off into the lobby. Daisy shook her head.

"This can't be real," she told me.

"It is," I whispered. We joined Tom in the lobby, followed by George, and sat there in a shaken silence, too appalled to utter a word, until Myrtle shuffled in with her face red and her cheeks stroked with tears. Gatsby walked in tentatively behind her, his head hung low, hands in his pockets. Tom tried not to act upset, even though he knew everyone was aware of his running around with Myrtle. Daisy cried silently, her face wet and as red as Myrtle's. George couldn't cope with it. His wife, his dear, dear wife was off having an affair with two men?

"S-Sorry," Gatsby apologized, slinking back into the corridor. I followed him to our room, and he grinned wider than I'd ever seen him smile before.

"Good!" he exclaimed quietly. "You all saw! Tom's jealous and wants Myrtle back now, and Daisy's jealous and wants me now. I didn't need for you or George to see, but so be it. Now Tom can battle with him for Myrtle instead of fighting over Daisy with me." I gaped at him.

"That was all some twisted plan? Was Myrtle in on it? Or did you really just break her heart?" I asked in surprise.

"She was in on it. She wants Tom back."

"You're an idiot!"

"Old sport…"

"You really think that's going to work!?"

"Well, yes, I do."

"I doubt it will! What a mess, and I'm right in the middle of it. This is all going to backfire on you!"

"Please, Nick, old sport…"

"I should tell them!" The door creaked open.

"Tell who?" Jordan asked.