Like most nights since she had arrived, Rosie Mulligan found herself wandering out of her cottage and across her lawn onto her neighbor's. The property line between the two plots of land was very distinct, as Rosie's grass rose an extra inch taller than her neighbor's and thus created a definite line between the overgrown lawn of her little cottage and the orderly grounds of the estate next door.

It wasn't the lights or the music or the sounds of general merry-making that drew Rosie across the border that night. It had been, on her first night in the Hamptons. She had found herself locked up in a tiny white cottage overlooking an inlet of the Atlantic Ocean with her guitar staring at her when suddenly a burst of sound came charging at her from the estate next door. Rosie jumped at the chance of a distraction, an escape from her responsibilities.

However, on the night in question, the general and overwhelming ambient noise fell on deaf ears. Three weeks in and the never-ending parties had become background noise.

Rosie took her time crossing the lawn. As her trek was far from the house and close to the water, she came across very few party-goers. It was still rather early in the evening despite the fact that the sun had already said goodnight. There still stretched out before them hours before anyone in attendance even thought about going home.

Rosie's feet led her to the dock that stretched out over the bay. The expansive and sloping green lawn dead-ended in a stone wall that dropped down to a private beach below. Eventually, a few random party-goers would discover the strip of sand and several would take it upon themselves to indulge in a moonlit dip.

Rosie had questioned at first the necessity of a lifeguard still on duty at one in the morning until night five when one of the revelers nearly drown.

Behind her, the white estate rose out of the green lawn and stood among a hoard of evergreens, shining out as a beacon into the slowly darkening night. Its rotating rainbow of neon colors pulsing along with the music bursting forth from every corner made the mansion a lighthouse among the otherwise empty coastline.

Rosie didn't need to look back to know what the scene playing out behind her looked like. There would be people everywhere, covering the large patios outside and filling the open rooms inside, each mouth chatting away, each body moving unconsciously to the ever-pounding bass.

The sight had pulled her in her first night. Under-dressed, as usual, among the glamour of some of the wealthiest kids around, Rosie wandered around wide-eyed. She had stumbled across much more than a distraction and had found the high life.

It didn't take her long to realize that the people around her weren't as famous or even as well known as they would have liked to be. Rosie soon found herself the most famous among them, being an actual musician who traveled the world for a living. And so the main hub of activity quickly lost its appeal.

There was a lone figure standing at the end of the dock as Rosie approached, as Rosie knew there would be. She stood leaning against one of the tall wooden beams that shot out of the ocean floor below. Rosie could see a drink in her hand but knew it would remain untouched. It was more for show than for anything else.

Rosie approached her host and took the beam opposite, mirroring her friend's stance and resting her eyes on the sight before them. Neither of them spoke for a long while and so Rosie took to trying, once again, to figure out what her companion was always staring at.

Below them, the water swayed back and forth, gentle waves lapping at the shore, a breeze making its way across the water to help cool off the extreme heat from the day. Summer was going strong and nowhere was its grip tighter than West Egg, Long Island. The house behind the two friends was one of the few along their strip of coast. Rosie had driven past its looming black gates and peered down its winding driveway on her way to her own secret hideaway in the shape of the small white cottage next door.

Houses further down the shoreline were sure to be inhabited but from where Rosie stood, the only thing in sight were giant trees on either side and a single house across the bay. It was white, like the one behind her, but even from such a distance, Rosie could see it lacked the grandeur and size of the lone mansion that reigned over their side of the bay.

"That's East Egg over there."

Her companion was the one to speak first and break whatever silence had fallen between them. Rosie hummed an agreeable response and nodded. Rosie tried to squint her eyes at the house across the way. A lighthouse flashed into her eyes every few seconds as it made its rounds and so Rosie had to avert her eyes. But her companion never did.

A subtle cough came from behind them and if Rosie hadn't heard it so many times before, she would have missed it altogether. Her companion turned at the sound. The familiar figure of a large security guard stood at the other end of the dock, his hands folded in front of him, his shoulders taking up a large portion of space and air, the jacket of his black suit tight around his arms.

"They're here, Miss Briggs."

Rosie's companion nodded, allowing the hint of a soft smile to flicker onto her lips for a second and then fade as she started towards the house.

"Thank you, Andre. Come along, old sport."

Rosie followed her lead and had to hurry to catch up as George Briggs took off across the lawn towards the party waiting for them.

Rosie had only ever heard stories of George Briggs before her forced seclusion into the depths of the Hamptons. She knew he was a world-renowned music producer, responsible for many of the biggest musical acts and winner of almost every award ever. Some of the greatest records ever made had been his doing and there was nothing but awe and respect in people's voices when they mentioned the legendary George Briggs. What Rosie wasn't aware of was the fact that George Briggs was a woman. And a relatively young one at that.

George slipped through the crowd without a problem. She was granted no second glance from the guests as Rosie sometimes did. Even in her old band-tee and ripped jeans, a stark contrast to the glitz and glamour coming at her from every angle, George disappeared into the crowd and Rosie had come to notice that she never did anything that might attract people's attention.

Passing the stone fountain that stood in the middle of the multi-level courtyard, Rosie smirked at the sight of people trying to fill their glasses with the purposefully non-alcoholic golden liquid that ran down the stone fixture in the place of water.

That fountain was the cause for Rosie's introduction to George the second night she had sneaked into her neighbor's party. Still unaware of who exactly kept hosting these all-out shin-digs, Rosie decided to try and blend into the crowd and so joined those who were trying to drink whatever was flowing out of the fountain. As she was bringing the glass to her lips, an arm reached out and stopped before she could take a sip.

"You really don't want to do that."

Rosie had found a woman seeming only a few years older than her, holding a death grip on Rosie's forearm with a warning glare in her eyes. Rosie listened and found in this woman the legendary music producer and the party's elusive host.

There were just as many people crowding up the interior of the manor as there were littering the lawns outside. Passing through what should have been a sitting room but had been turned into a dance floor, winding their way past the riotous crowd around the billiard table and skirting all together the crowded marble-topped kitchen, George led them into an expansive entryway.

The same security guard from the dock was already waiting for them, seeming almost normal-sized under the looming ceiling that hung two stories above their heads.

A small crowd had congregated in the foyer, encircling a group of three who looked newly arrived. The only girl among the three was looking in every direction with wide eyes, soaking up the attention and gabbing along at great speed with the small posse that had gathered around them. She wasn't the focus of their attention but she was trying very hard to change that.

Rosie caught sight of George's eyes narrowing. She nodded to Andre and he gave a rather loud cough that startled the other guests enough that they quickly retreated. The girl looked longingly after them as their attention fell away.

George stepped up to greet the newcomers. Now without anyone's attention, the new girl grabbed tight to the arm of the man standing next to her, her stance one of ownership. The girl's companions seemed more overwhelmed than impressed with the situation they found themselves in. One had a dark look of confusion in his bright blue eyes and the other had a slight look of bewilderment in his dark brown. The one with the brown eyes was smiling despite the unfamiliar territory.

The man in the middle froze when he caught sight of George. And Rosie could see George was fighting hard to keep from staring right back. There was no question that recognition had sparked in both of their eyes. George instead turned her attention to the girl still hanging on his arm.

"Oh my gosh! Vanessa Wyatt?"

Rosie's head turned at the sound of the high-pitched, overtly feminine voice that came out of George's mouth. Even her face was taking on an expression Rosie had never seen before. Long gone was the dark brooding grimace Rosie had grown accustomed to. There was light in her cheeks that didn't bother to make it to her eyes. George was actually smiling. And it was creeping Rosie out.

"Oh my gosh! I can't actually believe this! I'm such a big fan! Welcome to my party! Thanks so much for coming! I had no idea you would be here!"

Her last statement struck Rosie as the truth but, then again, Rosie was never sure whether or not George actually knew who any of her party guests were. They simply showed up every night.

Rosie had to stifle a laugh at the look of extreme discomfort on Vanessa's face when met with George's sudden burst of fanatic energy. With a deep frown reaching all the way up to the dark roots of her blonde hair, Vanessa extended a hesitant hand toward George.

George grabbed her hand tight and shook. Vanessa might as well have been touching vermin but tried hard to manage a smile. It wasn't working.

"This is your place?"

Vanessa took in George's makeup-less face, her bright brown hair pulled back in a vague attempt at a pony-tail and her ratty sneakers. Her attire didn't match the persona she was trying to convey and so George tried that much harder.

"Yeah! I mean. Well. It's actually my dad's place? But he's letting me use it for the summer?"

George's statements were coming out like questions and she was slipping into the stereotype of a white girl from the San Fernando Valley.

"You're the one hosting the epic parties we've been hearing about all summer?"

Vanessa wasn't buying what George was trying to shove down her throat but she was torn between disbelief and a desire to leave George behind as soon as possible.

"You betcha! Isn't this so fun? I can't believe you're actually here! You'll be like my fiftieth celebrity! I had Toni Sikes here last week and man, did she have a blast! Actually, she said she would be making it tonight! She's such a fan of the Fourth of July, I doubt she'll miss out."

Vanessa picked up the name George dropped and ran with it. Her eyes left George and started to search the crowd for the oh-so-famous pop star.

"Have fun!"

Vanessa hadn't bothered with a goodbye and had made a start for the rest of the party. George's face returned to normal when she returned her attention to her other newly arrived guests.

Rosie was now letting herself laugh out loud and the smiling brown eyes joined in.

"Thank God!"

His words came out in a laugh, twinged with a light Irish lilt.

"I was trying not to think about what a party with her would have been like. Bless ya, mate."

George nodded at his gratitude but she did so while staring at the other guest who had yet to say anything. The four of them stood in silence for an extra-long minute that Rosie was afraid would drag on forever.

"I'm Rosie."

Rosie extended her hand in the general direction of the two men. The Irish one took it first and had to nudge his companion to do the same.

"Nate Harper. This here is Felix. Just Felix."

Felix accepted Rosie's hand with a brief nod but went back to staring at George like he couldn't believe his eyes. Rosie had to do the honors of introducing her, although she had a feeling Felix already knew who she was.

"And this is George Briggs, our host."

"Seriously?"

Nate's eyes widened and George gave him a hand to shake.

"What an honor. Huge fan. Seriously. Felix, did you know this was George Briggs?"

Felix shook his head and spoke for the first time.

"No. I had no idea."

"It's good to see you, Felix."

He nodded, reality seeming to settle back into his brain.

"You too, Georgie."

George didn't let the nickname hang in the air too long. Within a half-second, she was nodding in a direction opposite of the party, murmuring "Come on. Let me show you around".

The thought that someone knew George well enough, and maybe even long enough, to call her Georgie struck Rosie as odd. She couldn't imagine the George she had come to know with any other name. It was at that moment that a thought struck her for the first time. There was a large possibility George Briggs was not her real name.

Nate dragged Rosie out of her thoughts with a soft nudge to her shoulder. She found she was following behind Felix and George as they avoided the crowds and made their way up an empty staircase. Nate took his spot beside her and started to make conversation when it became obvious that George and Felix were now in a world of their own.

"Rosie Mulligan, right?"

At the sound of her official name, Rosie felt a smile try to force its way onto her lips out of sheer habit.

"What gave me away? Was it the red hair?"

Nate laughed and nodded.

"Kind of, yeah. I'm a big fan, by the way. Love your music."

Rosie bowed with an attempt at humility. The comment just made her uncomfortable at that point in her career. Luckily Nate kept talking and the moment passed on by.

"I'm a musician, too. So is Felix."

Nate nodded to his friend as they all entered a large room set far away from any other current occupants in the house. Behind a pair of heavy wooden doors, a large library stood waiting for them, its ceiling rising high into the air, the numerous bookshelves following right along with it. It took Rosie an extra second to return to her conversation with Nate after taking in the sight around her.

"Really?" She finally said. "Wait, is he actually Felix? Like THE Felix? The singer-songwriter guy?"

"You didn't recognize him?"

Rosie caught sight of something like amusement and disbelief in Nate's tone. She let Felix and George wander away to explore the room on their own.

"I'm not very good with faces. Or pop culture, for that matter. I'm traveling most of the year so by the time I get back to civilization, there's usually a whole new crop of faces. I stopped trying to keep up a long time ago."

"But you know who Felix is?"

"I mean, who doesn't? I didn't know his face but that doesn't mean I haven't heard his music. He's brilliant."

"You'd be right on that point. He is. Absolutely amazing."

"How did you guys meet? Oh, and who was that girl you were with earlier? She seemed like a peach."

Nate laughed and Rosie caught a glimpse of George and Felix stepping out onto the balcony that led off of the library and looked down over the lawn below.

"Vanessa is a new management favorite. They're trying to get her name out there so they ship her out to be seen with a bunch of different celebrities. She loves it but Felix got stuck with her for the summer. And she's just as nice as she seems, by the way."

Nate followed his statement up with an eye roll that Rosie was surprised made her laugh.

"And Felix and I. We go way back. He opened for my band a few years ago and we've stayed in touch ever since."

"He opened for you?"

Nate nodded and started to laugh again. He hadn't missed the hint of incredulity in Rosie's voice.

"You really don't know who I am, then?" When Rosie shook her head, his smile widened. "That's brilliant."

"So you're actually a musician then?"

"Of course! Did you think that was a line or something?"

Rosie shrugged.

"I've met a lot of people at these things who claim they are a lot more than they actually are. George has a lot of people claiming to be models and singers and musicians filling her house every night. I have no idea where she gets them but I kind of figured you were one of them."

"Believe me. I'm the real deal. Got the boy-band to prove it and everything."

"Good thing you stuck with me then. You would have been eaten alive left to your own devices downstairs."

Nate smiled and Rosie found herself mirroring it back. It took her a long moment to realize they were just standing there smiling at each other. She pulled her eyes from his and glanced around the room. She saw George and Felix wander into the next room and moved to follow them. Nate followed right behind her.

"Did you know George Briggs was a woman?" Nate asked.

It spoke only of George's widespread reputation that he assumed even Rosie would know who that was. Rosie shook her head to answer.

"Not a clue. I only met her a few weeks ago."

"How did you get mixed up with the lot below?"

As they passed by the open balcony door, the music from below became more prevalent and Rosie remembered that a whole party was going on without them. Rosie entered the room George and Felix had disappeared into and found a music studio waiting for them.

One whole wall was just vinyl records, from floor to ceiling. Instruments covered the rest of the walls and when Rosie let out a low whistle, it reverberated across the soundproofing panels. George was still giving Felix what seemed to be a tour of her home but Rosie saw that Felix barely ever took his eyes off of her. Their words were low, low enough that even from across the room, Rosie couldn't hear a thing.

"What is this place?" Nate muttered.

"I have no idea. I've been here three weeks and this is the first time I've ever made it upstairs."

"Do you live nearby?"

"I rented a cottage next door to try and write. It was my alternative to the label's suggestive that I go out and get my heart broken. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who noticed that that's when I write the best."

"Well, maybe I can help with that."

Nate wasn't smiling when Rosie looked up to meet his eyes. He was serious. Too serious. She averted her glances and kept moving through the house, trying to always stay at least a ways behind George and Felix as they continued to make their way through the expansive mansion.

After a long pause that wasn't as awkward as Rosie expected, Nate started the conversation back up. He asked her about George, about the time Rosie had spent with her so far. He seemed curious to know more about Rosie than George but George was a neutral subject for them to discuss. Rosie answered back with her own questions on Felix.

Rosie didn't have much to tell about George as she hadn't known her long. And their relationship up to that point hadn't been very close. Most days Rosie would wander over and join in with whatever George was doing. If it was during the day, they would spend hours eating lunch on the terrace, looking out over the ocean, talking occasionally. And at night, she came over and spent most of the evening standing on the dock with George as she looked out over the bay.

Rosie wasn't sure when the parties had started or even why and Nate was able to answer some of her questions in that respect.

He had joined Felix to spend the summer at a house the label had lent him. It was so both of them could get a break for a little while but when Vanessa showed up, thoughts of rest and relaxation flew out the window.

Vanessa was the one who had brought the parties to Felix's attention, always going on and on about how the biggest parties of the seasons were happening just across the bay. They could even see the lights from their own small strip of private beach. But they stayed away for some reason. Vanessa found other parties for them to go to instead, places where she could be seen, as that was the only reason she was being cooped up with two very tired and very boring dudes.

It took her three weeks of begging for Felix to finally gave in. It took Felix another week to beg Nate to go too, as a party the size Vanessa was describing sounded exhausting. The Fourth of July seemed as good a time as any to actually join in the revelry happening all over the island and so Nate found himself standing in the foyer of the music industry's most legendary living figure.

"Do you have any idea how George knows Felix?" Nate asked.

They were sitting along the stone wall that bordered the beach below. Their conversation had taken them all through the house and out a side door that led them along the edge of the property and down to the water without having to wade through the party-goers. 

Rosie shook her head.

"I really don't know that much about her. She's just the Great George Briggs. That's all I've got."

"And you haven't seen her with anyone else?"

"She barely talks to me and avoids her party guests like they're the plague. I know as much about George as you at this point. What about Felix? Is he involved with anyone? Has he ever mentioned anyone like George before?"

Nate shook his head but then stopped midway as a thought seemed to strike him.

"No. Wait. There was someone. Ages ago. Felix hardly ever talks about it. He only even mentioned her once. And that was years ago."

"What did he say?"

"He mentioned this girl he used to know back in London. It was when he was still working in a pub and trying to get noticed by singing on street corners. Way back when. He said she was a secretary, I think, at some recording studio. He had been hired to play on some record. From the way he talked about her, I think they really hit it off but I don't think things ended up working out. He said he's never been able to find her since. Said she just disappeared."

Rosie's eyes had been watching George and Felix as they stood at the end of the dock. As the night had progressed, they had moved closer and closer together. Now they stood within an inch of each other, with barely a breath to pass between them. They were no longer looking out across the bay but instead at one another.

"That's our house, over there."

Rosie followed Nate where his finger was pointing. Her eyes landed on the white house that mirrored the one behind her and her eyes flew to George. Everything fell into place. The parties, the noise, the music. Everything.

George and Felix now stood within centimeters of each other and Rosie could see Felix's hand moving to her face. Rosie stood suddenly and pulled Nate up with her as she went.

"Come on, kid. Let's go."

Nate followed without a second thought and the two of them left George and Felix alone on the pier.

"So where are you from?" Rosie asked.

The party had started to die down but Rosie had a feeling George had one more trick left up her sleeve. It was easier now to move through the crowd now as those who would've recognized either her or Nate were too tired to do so.

"Dublin. You?"

"Brooklyn."

"I like Brooklyn. It's not a bad place."

"I've heard Dublin isn't the worst either."

They were staring at each other again, a lukewarm soda that had been pulled from a cooler of ice that had melted hours ago in each hand. They finally tore their eyes from each other when an explosion went off above their heads. Fireworks shot out into the sky over the bay, lighting up the night in red white, and blue. The music was finally drowned out as bang after bang followed one after another.

"Happy Fourth of July, Rosie."

Clinking her bottle against his, Rosie met his smile with one of her own.

"Cheers."

*

The next morning, Rosie didn't bother to wake up until it was well past noon. When she did, she noticed a shift in the atmosphere. It took her a while to pinpoint exactly what it was as her brain hadn't bothered to wake up with the rest of her body.

She spent the afternoon sitting out on her lawn with her guitar in her hand and a notebook on the ground beside her. She wasn't self-aware enough to realize it was the first time she had done so all summer.

When she wasn't writing, her eyes wandered over to the estate next door. There was a marked absence of suit-clad security men patrolling the perimeter. But other than that, Rosie didn't notice much else.

Even when the sun started to make its descent over the horizon and the ocean started to darken, Rosie still hadn't found the source of the sudden change. She noticed a lack of staff and workers who would usually, by that time in the day, have arrived to start setting up for the evening. When she glanced past her line of trees, Rosie saw that the patio remained empty. All signs of any parties ever having occurred on the expanse of land next door seemed to have disappeared without a trace.

Rosie's mind was finally starting to put together what her eyes were catching on to when a sudden blare of horns came from the street beyond. The sound multiplied as she made her way past her house and out onto the road. A line of expensive cars was stopped in front of the tall black gates.

The orange sports car leading the pack was to blame for the majority of the noise. But his honks did nothing. The gates did not budge. When he gave up, the rest of the line did too, and soon enough they had all faded away to go find some other party to attend.

Rosie waited until they were gone to come into view. She walked down the street and came to inspect the gates herself. There was a note taped to the gates, flapping softly in the light summer breeze.

It read "No More Parties. Go Home." Attached in the same manner just underneath the piece of paper proclaiming the decree in big black letters, was another piece of paper, folded into a neat little square. There was only one word on this note. It read "Rosie".

Rosie grabbed the paper and unfolded it. She read the words three times over. There wasn't much written and so it didn't take her long.

The note read, "Rosie, the house is yours. Use it as you wish. Andre will be back Memorial Day to close it up. I'll be in touch. Eventually."

After the fourth read, Rosie noticed the postscript written on the back. As she read one more car drove up the street and came to stop right in front of her.

"P.S. Nate is down a roommate. Keep him company for us, will you?"

Rosie looked up and found Nate's smile waiting for her.

"You got one too?"

He nodded at the note in Rosie's hands and she nodded her reply.

"They'll reappear. Eventually. Or not. Who knows with those two. You busy?"

Rosie shook her head.

"No. Why?"

"I figured you might need help writing that album."

A/N:

I wrote this scene about two years ago. It came to me while I was trying to fall asleep one night.

I have always love 'The Great Gatsby'. The vibe is seriously strong with that one. And I decided I wanted to write Gatsby as a female. But how?

I already had George Briggs as a reoccurring character in my personal universe (she can be found in 'I'll See You Soon' and 'Holidays In The Hamptons') and she was the perfect fit for Gatsby. She's moody, aloof, enigmatic and brilliant.

But who was going to be my Nick, the narrator of the story, George's only friend?

Rosie Mulligan came to mind almost immediately. She's a side character for a story no long available here on Wattpad but a personal favorite of mine, nonetheless. Thus this story was born and so was 'Love Like The Movies.'

I hope you guys enjoyed this and enjoy the rest! Read on!

PS: To avoid confusion, the Felix in this story is not the same Felix in 'Holidays In The Hamptons'. I wrote this story first and stole the same when I wrote 'Holidays In The Hamptons'.