A longer version of Gatesby

Colourscape
taken on a bus in the early evening to an old English manor in the countryside. Everyone had been to the parties before. I hadn't.
we were ushered upstairs into a ballroom. Champagne on ice served from linen draped table.
very elegant. Rooms full of green balloons. Extensive grounds with a lake and bunny hoppers. In the middle of the night, the ground became wet with dew and we raced on it with bare feet in the dark.
After some champagne people began to mill around doors. performances in each room.
One had been transformed into a Miami-esque beach party with larger than life yellow dressed buxom hosts with blonde hair and false husbands. There were cupcakes and cocktails and pinup bras on the bed.
Giggles and rumours began to circulate in corridors. Alcohol was drunk in queues. People were met. Conversations were had. Ophelia drowned in a bathtub every 5 minutes on level 3. The room only held five people at a time.
performances darkened. A hooded cloak was passed on through groups of people and one at a time they entered a room. I never found out what happened in there.
The evening began to blur. Bathrooms with gold edgings were found, laughter was had on a jumping castle, cigarettes were lit and put out and Gatesby was mentioned. We danced in a glass room and watched the people who had met and were falling in love. Eventually, sore feet and tired eyes.
In the dead of the night, the lovers and the rest of us removed our shoes, and with slightly messier hair than before w were taken on a bus home.