It Only Happens in the Movies

by Holly Bourne

“Tell me, Audrey. How are they not real?” I blew my hair up and thought back to all the films I’d watched with Mum and Dad on our family film nights. “Well, they never have any real insecurities, just like – cute ones! Like, ‘Oh, I’m really neat and tidy’, or ‘I’m mildly clumsy’. Where are the woman saying, ‘Why the hell haven’t you replied to my messages after shagging me?’ or ‘Do you mind if we take things slow because I was raped in college?’” LouLou pointed at me. “This is true.” “Plus” – I was still warming up – “they’re always crazy perfect skinny, even though they’re supposedly always munching down burgers and chocolate. That’s not real. You can’t have thighs that don’t rub at the top but also looooove hot dogs and beer. Those two things don’t coexist. You have to do squats every single moment of your life and only have one slither of cake, like, once a year, and probably eat it whilst still doing squats.” Harry’s smile was so wide. He waved his arm like he was conducting me. “Go on.” “Well” – I sat down next to him – “they always look amazing in the morning. They never have stinky breath or hair all over the place, or boogers in their eyes. And they sleep in, like, tiny pyjama short things instead of an ugly oversized T-shirt with jammy bottoms. I mean, AREN’T THEY COLD? Also” – I began to list them off on my fingers – “they never pick fights with the guy’s friends about the fact they’re sexist slobs. They never fart, let alone fanny fart, or get their period and a...