London Loves Zac

I am now 23 years old. I have a job. I pay my own bills. I guess this makes me an adult.

But I believe there are many things that keep me very far away from truly owning this awful title. The largest, perhaps, is my complete obsession with teen-hearthrob Zac Efron.

I'm really not into celebrities. I've passed them countless times on the street in New York and eventually got to point where I stopped caring. They are just people. Only they get to wear whatever they want and live in dream homes, so I kind of hate them to be honest.

But everyone has that one celebrity, and mine is Zac Efron. Ever since I saw High School Musical, I have kind of believed we could be soul mates if we met. Famous people fall in love with normal people all the time. They meet somewhere, and the rest is history. Hugh Jackman, Christian Bale, Matt Damon - all normal wives. Look at Kate Middleton for goodness sakes! I'm just saying - it can happen.

So tonight as I was booking it up Kings Road to make it to my Barrecore class, I noticed quite an extravaganza happening outside Bluebird and wondered what it was all for. Music, tents, gates, and then I saw the hoards of teenage girls standing in the rain with soggy "London Loves Zac" posters.

I instantly got chills. Zac... Efron? In London? On my street!?!

I wanted to go investigate this further, but there were guards everywhere and I was late for class, so I had to keep moving. As I continued up the road, I passed the Chelsea Curzon Theatre with "The Lucky One Premier Tonight" plastered on the outside.

A quick google search told me the premier was at 8:15. My class was out at 7:30, so I had just enough time to run back and see Zac after Barrecore! VICTORY!!

When I got to class I gushed the news to my American pal, "ZAC EFRON IS DOWN THE STREET!!" Turns out, she is not a HSM fan. But the trainer overheard me and started to laugh,

"Would now be a good time to tell you I taught him dance?"


Long story short, my Barrecore teacher taught my soul mate some moves when he was in London filming "Me and Oscar Wilde" with Claire Danes. And - she said he is just as dreamy and cool in real life as he seems. That sealed the deal for me; I was going to see Zac Efron.

Throughout class, when the pain was too great to bare and my hips fell out of alignment, Jenny came to fix me and whispered, "just think of Zac." And I did.

1 hour later I rushed down Kings Rd and joined the queue outside the cinema, feeling slightly ridiculous being 23 amongst the cluster of tweens.
It was freezing and raining, par for the course for London. Being alone, it was easy for me to slip and sneak my way to the front of the group right behind the barricade closest to the doors. I soon joined the front row, the true die-hard fans, and discovered it was an interesting crowd.

To my left, a man aged at least 60 years. I assumed he was some girl's dad or accidentally had ended up in this line, until I realized he was, in fact, alone - and was holding the DVD case for Charlie St. Cloud, an old magazine with Z.E. on the cover, and a sharpee. Yikes!

To my right, 3 polish women, aged approx 25, 40, and 70. Through their thick accents I discovered they came from Poland FOR THIS! They didn't have tickets to the premier, they just wanted to see Zac Efron and were begging the guard to let them in the theatre. Double yikes!

I suddenly felt extremely normal, and hopeful that if Zac did approach the crowd, he would surely go for me before Mr. and Mrs. loony bins next to me. Unfortunately, coming straight from the gym - I was in my trainers and a sweaty, gross, mess. But I don't believe anything can stop true love...

30 freezing cold minutes later, after watching annoying ticket-holding people saunter in, and listening to screams everytime someone saw a man that even vaguely resembled Zac Efron, a silver Mercedes pulled up, and out walked my dream man.

The screams were deafening, people were jumping and pulling and shoving, but timed seemed to stop still for me during the 60 second timeframe that he stepped out in his navy 3 piece suit, and standing no more than 10 feet from me, turned to the side and flashed the most world's most handsome smile.

And then, he was gone. It was magical.

I was slightly disappointed he didn't stop to greet (and by greet I mean kiss) his fans (and by fans I mean me), but since it was freezing and raining - I can't blame him for not wanting to spend time outside. Damn this city and it's terrible weather! London's insane April showers are responsible for me not getting to meet him.... Do I sound loony bins yet?

Anyway, in my trance-like state, I was able to snap this photo.

It's blurry, and doesn't do his attractiveness justice. But it's mine. It's my photo of Zac Efron that I took while looking at him.

I realize that I sound completely insane and childish right now - but I really don't care.
If 3 middle aged women honestly flew from Poland to see him, then I am the poster-child of normality and maturity.

I found this online of him on the official red carpet outside Bluebird if you want to properly marvel at his handsomeness....
Looking good, loverboy.

So I am, obviously, going to go see the movie tomorrow. In the Curzon. And imagine that the seat I am sitting in is the one he sat in. And further imagine that he spent the entire movie thinking, "I wonder if that blonde girl in the trainers that I smiled at could possibly be my soulmate."