Even though he wore suits tailored cheaply in Hong Kong, his business card said he was the Assistant to the Associate Director of Commercial Leasing, and I was impressed. Despite being engaged to the second oldest son of the best cosmetic surgeon in Brisbane, I hungered for him to fill the empty hours between Bootcamp and designing my own jewellery line.

I watched him make his way down James Street, greeting all the people he saw at every social gathering as though they hadn’t spoken in years, and I knew from his dilated pupils he was high on more than corporate success.

As I stood at Cru bar, trying to remember whether it was at a Fashion function, a Food & Fashion function, or a Fashion, Furniture & Food function I’d first noticed him, a familiar smell filled my nostrils. It was a mix of cigarette smoke and Bundy rum. ‘Private school boy’, I whispered to myself. I turned around and there he was, Johnathon, fresh from watching Australia vs. Wales at The QA.

Our eyes met and soon we were driving his 1 series BMW back to his Woolstore apartment.

As he opened the front door, I tried to remember what Lorna Jane had written on her blackboard that morning. Was it “I move, I nourish, I believe” or “I earn my chocolate one step at a time”? I was so confused. Oh, why could I not hear my idol’s words when I so desperately needed them?

I took a deep breath and reminded myself that, thanks to Bikram Yoga, I was more flexible than the girl in Lululemon’s window.

I stepped inside, knowing that if I managed to make him fall in love me, I’d be drinking gin with his mother and aunts at The Moreton Club in no time.