This piece is best viewed on a desktop. Please give the page time to load background videos.
I am only three and a half minutes late but when I get there she seems annoyed.
“It’s been a while,” she says. Her brow is creasing.
“It has – sorry about that.” I smile at her, trying to smooth it out.
“Uh, yeah ... yeah, really.”
Before I take my coat off she takes a gulp of wine and thumps the glass on the table, spilling some of it (I wipe it up).
“Well, thanks for the wine.”
She smiles (stained teeth) and drops a ten on the table. The glass actually cost $12.50 but I don’t say anything. She stands, turns and makes for the door.
I throw two twenties down (I figure I can go back for the change later) and follow. I count 13 steps and realise she’s walking very fast, but I can make it up.
“Can we at least talk?”
It’s only 8pm. I could get the train and be home in 42 minutes and get some work done. But for some reason I don’t.
“Am I supposed to be – do you want me to stop you?
“Did you hear me?
“Did I mess up?”
She stops at a crossing (I know I have 7 seconds as the main light is red and the right arrow still green). Her arms are folded, but I lean forward to kiss her anyway. She turns her head and my lips hit her cheek instead. She looks straight ahead. I linger but then it's green.
“I’m going home,” she says.
“Can we hang out again?”
Her eye makeup is smeared so I wipe it with my thumb. We are standing close and she kisses me.
Her place is a large terrace seven minutes from Redfern station, small black metal gate that creaks loudly and it’s a little too close to the main road. Run down but charming. (She keeps looking at me like she’s about to say something but doesn’t.)
Her room is at the top of a steep set of stairs, almost a ladder.
When I reach around to unclip her bra she finally says “Can I ask you something?”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“Last time? Is that why you didn’t ... this sounds so stupid.”
“Just say it.”
“Didn’t message me.”
I roll onto my back. The truth is I hadn’t even thought about her until she messaged me again. But I should have.
I turn to her very pretty face.
“No. Of course you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Oh,” she says. “Okay, cool.”
She rolls back over and closes her eyes to sleep. (Her breathing doesn't get any deeper).
Created by: Em Meller | Edited by: Justin Wolfers | Directed by: Justin Wolfers and Jack McAvoy
Starring: Freyja Benjamin, Anton du Chateau | Cinematography: Jack McAvoy | Development: Elle Williams | Music by: Guerre