'90s Problems

Chapter 3

"Don't you miss having someone to love?" "It's not the same when there's no growing old together. Without that love is just heartbreak." - Age of Adaline, in theaters April 24

Date one, I took his headshots and he took me to Funny Girl. We met at the Botanic Gardens again, and he was so adorably nervous, I knew I'd have to get him to unwind before we'd get anything good on film. I looped my arm through his and walked around the park, finding out about his family.

"You're an only child too? So that explains what a brat you are..."

"Takes one to know one!" He laughed, tossing his hair back, the light catching his eyes, a lighter grey shade today.

"Did you know your eyes change colour?"

"I do." He interlaced his fingers through mine. "Did you know that tree over there is looking at you funny...?"

"I can take him, don't worry."

We spent the afternoon roaming around, putting Matt in unexpected places for photos, like flat on his back in the grass, and standing on a high brick wall, staring out over the city, but way more Val Kilmer than George Clooney.

When I had the shot I knew he'd be happy with, we parted briefly to head to our respective abodes to change for dinner and the show. The rest of the evening played out like a modern fairy tale, where the prince gallantly walked me to my door and kissed me sweetly good night.

Date two, he took me to the zoo and we stood in the humid butterfly house, where the tiny scraps of coloured magic flittered around us in the tropic air.

"Mmmm..." I stretched my arms high in the mugginess. "This reminds me of the Bahamas."

"You've been there?"

"I lived there. St Thomas. So beautiful. I spent every day in a swim suit."

He slid a hand around my waist and whispered in my ear, "That's a sight I'd love to see."

I was going to tell him that my plus-sized figure in a bikini wasn't actually anything to get excited over, but he seemed so enamoured by the idea, I didn't have the heart.

Afterwards, we headed to the cinemas to watch the Blair Witch Project. I screamed into Matt's chest, burying my face deeply as the horror flick played out. Maybe it was all the fear-related adrenaline, but I swore that our kisses at my door that night were far more heated and sensual.

Date three saw us dolled up at a charity event for the mayoral office. With part of my headshot cash I bought a new dress, a sweeping peacock-blue gown. The strapless dress hugged my curves then cascaded to my feet in floaty waves, and for once in the entire nineties, I felt as though I didn't stand out for being the too-big girl in a roomful of waifs.

Perhaps that had more to do with the way Matt looked at me, like a starving man and I was his buffet. I'm pretty sure I was staring at him the same way; the man wore his midnight-blue suit better than Tuxedo Mask. I jumped him in the taxi, crushing my lips to his, and allowing myself the luxury of enjoying a make out session with a super-hot guy without worrying about the future.

Date four, I dragged him rollerblading down at St Kilda pier. Matt was about as coordinated as a new-born giraffe as I supported him around the waist, enjoying the closeness of our bodies. When he found his footing, we cruised up and down the long stretch of beach, discovering a little more about each other with every kilometre.