Restless, she made her way out on to the wide verandah, where an old-fashioned porch swing stood. Settling herself in its deep cushions, she folded her arms and stared crossly at the beguiling prospect of the countryside swatched in moonlight. Oscar's decisive appraisal that she didn't know the real Pelham, closely followed by Sunday's revelation that Pelham was planning to propose, had thrown her into turmoil.

While she and Pelham had discussed marriage in an arbitrary way, it was a shock to realise that she would have to make an actual, momentous decision the following day. And Oscar's proximity wasn't exactly conductive to clear thinking on the subject.

Lost in confused reflection, Hero was still sitting on the swing when Oscar, wearing a fresh shirt and looking annoyingly attractive, came outside bearing two drinks. He paused and drew in a deep lungful of the night air.

'If you say one word,' Hero darkly threatened, 'just one about how beautiful the view is by moonlight or how fresh the country air smells, I swear I will kill you and bury your body under Terry's rhododendrons.'

'I wasn't going to say either of those things,' Oscar said, in an injured tone.

'You weren't?'

'No. I was going to recite a sonnet about the beauty of a woman enraged. Does the same penalty apply?'

'No. I'll bury you alive instead.'

'You know, it's rather more difficult to recite poetry when your nostrils are filled with dirt.'

'My thoughts exactly.'

'Did you have a chat to Pelham?' Oscar asked, wisely deciding to ignore the ferocious scowl.

'No, I did not!' Hero snapped. 'He's stillin there talking to the bartender. And that's your fault, too. Don't think I don't know it. Pelham has never sprawled over a bar and chatted to a bartender in his life.'

Oscar sat himself down beside her and gently rocked the swing to set them in motion. 'Well, you and Pelham are quite different in that respect. I have a very distinct memory of you chatting to a bartender.' Before she could retaliate, he handed her a drink. 'Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better.'

She looked suspiciously into the tumbler. 'What is it?'

'Scotch on the rocks.'

'I hate scotch. It tastes like medicine. Is there any Baileys?'

Oscar raised an eyebrow. 'Baileys? I never would have picked you for a sweet liqueur kind of girl.'

'See that's the problem with you.' Despite her objections to the scotch, she downed the drink in one swallow, grimaced, and then continued. 'You think every single thing about a person has to conform to your exact notion of who they are. Cynical. Sentimental. Romantic. Unromantic. You're incredibly narrow minded. Are you going to drink that?'

Oscar paused, the glass halfway to his mouth. Deciding that Hero's need was greater, he swaped his full glass for her empty one, watching in awe as she dispatched the second drink in the same swift manner as the first.

Seeing the empty glasses at a safe distance, he looked her straight in the eye, 'Okay Hero. What's the matter?'

There was a silence, and then Hero burst out, 'Pelham's going to propose to me.'

Oscar took in her agitation with interest, but wisely decided not to comment on it. Instead he said mildly, 'How do you know?'

'Sunday told me.'

'I know you're not much given to taking advice from me, but for Pelham's sake, try to act surprised when he asks.'

'Do you really think that I'd let on that I knew?' Hero asked, nettled.

Oscar sighed. 'Quite frankly, Hero, I don't know how you're going to react ninety-eight percent of the time. That first night we were together, you looked at me like you could fall in love with me, but since we met up again it's been nothing but sexually charged tension.'

Hero smiled sweetly. 'That's not true. I've definately progressed ito the numb-to-all-sensation-where-Oscar-is-concerned stage.'

'What's it like?'

'Peaceful. Very peaceful.'

'Well, enjoy it, because it won't last,' he advised. 'The next stage is utter-love-and-adoration-of-Oscar and it lasts for all eternity. Which gives you something to look forward to,' he added kindly.

'By that time I'll probably be married to Pelham, so I'll just have to admire you from afar.'

The combative sparkle went out of Oscar's eyes and he looked at her meditatively. 'I don't think you'll really do it. You don't love him, Hero. I know you don't.'

Hero bit her lip. 'Your mistake all along has been to assume that you know my mind better than I do.'

'I can't let you do it.'

'Luckily for me, I don't need your permission to make decisions concerning my own life,' Hero said composedly.

'In that case, just tell me one thing that I've always been curious about. I know I've asked you this before, but why did you stand me up that day at the Met?'

Heat burned through Hero's cheeks and for one wild moment she considered telling him about that agonising moment of indecision and self-doubt. She had wanted so badly to be Lola, to step forward and take Oscar's hand. But she hadn't. She turned away.

Oscar watched her fighting for an explanation, and decided to make it easier for her. 'My theory is that there are two Heros.' He smiled. 'Or perhaps there's one Hero and one Lola. Either way, I feel like a part of you desperatly wants to break free while the other part fights hard for security and stability, whatever the cost.'

'Lola doesn't exist,' Hero said, when she could speak. 'She was never real.'

'See, that's where you're wrong,' Oscar said gently. 'Because I kissed her, and she was very real to me.' He paused. 'The price that you're paying for security is too high, Hero. You'll be miserable with him. You know you will.'

'Oh well,' she said, in as flippant tone as she could muster, 'I suppose the only way either of us will ever know whether that's true is if Pelham and I actually do get married. But thanks for your concern. And I'm not a very good actor but I promise to act surprised when he asks me.'

'In that case, I suppose I ought to help you practise,' Oscar offered.

'What?' Hero asked, completely disconcerted.

Oscar moved closer. 'It's easy, I'll show you. When Pelham sits next to you in the moonlight, just like I am now, and he turns to you and says he's got something important to ask ...'

He took her hand as he spoke, and immediately something very peculiar happened to Hero's insides, her heart and stomach colluding in some sort of jumping game, over which she had obviously no control. It was the scotch, she decided hazily. Had to be the scotch.

Oblivious to the hammering of her heart, Oscar asked, persuasively, 'Hero, will you marry me?'

She tightened her grip on his hand, her eyes dreamy. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. 'Yes.'

His face almost touching hers now, and as his lips brushed lightly against hers, she closed her eyes. But then he let go of her hand. When she opened her eyes, she saw that he had settled back in the swing, putting distance between them. She looked at him in bewilderment as he said lightly, 'Sorry. I know I shouldn't have kissed you but I couldn't resist. Anyway, that was perfect. Look at Pelham exactly like that and he'll feel like the luckiest man alive. You know, Hero, I begin to have hope for your romantic streak, after all.'

He set the swing in motion once again, and as the world rushed forward to meet them, Hero didn't know why, but she felt very much like crying.

Restless, she made her way out on to the wide verandah, where an old-fashioned porch swing stood. Settling herself in its deep cushions, she folded her arms and stared crossly at the beguiling prospect of the countryside swatched in moonlight. Oscar's decisive appraisal that she didn't know the real Pelham, closely followed by Sunday's revelation that Pelham was planning to propose, had thrown her into turmoil.

While she and Pelham had discussed marriage in an arbitrary way, it was a shock to realise that she would have to make an actual, momentous decision the following day. And Oscar's proximity wasn't exactly conductive to clear thinking on the subject.

Lost in confused reflection, Hero was still sitting on the swing when Oscar, wearing a fresh shirt and looking annoyingly attractive, came outside bearing two drinks. He paused and drew in a deep lungful of the night air.

'If you say one word,' Hero darkly threatened, 'just one about how beautiful the view is by moonlight or how fresh the country air smells, I swear I will kill you and bury your body under Terry's rhododendrons.'

'I wasn't going to say either of those things,' Oscar said, in an injured tone.

'You weren't?'

'No. I was going to recite a sonnet about the beauty of a woman enraged. Does the same penalty apply?'

'No. I'll bury you alive instead.'

'You know, it's rather more difficult to recite poetry when your nostrils are filled with dirt.'

'My thoughts exactly.'

'Did you have a chat to Pelham?' Oscar asked, wisely deciding to ignore the ferocious scowl.

'No, I did not!' Hero snapped. 'He's stillin there talking to the bartender. And that's your fault, too. Don't think I don't know it. Pelham has never sprawled over a bar and chatted to a bartender in his life.'

Oscar sat himself down beside her and gently rocked the swing to set them in motion. 'Well, you and Pelham are quite different in that respect. I have a very distinct memory of you chatting to a bartender.' Before she could retaliate, he handed her a drink. 'Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better.'

She looked suspiciously into the tumbler. 'What is it?'

'Scotch on the rocks.'

'I hate scotch. It tastes like medicine. Is there any Baileys?'

Oscar raised an eyebrow. 'Baileys? I never would have picked you for a sweet liqueur kind of girl.'

'See that's the problem with you.' Despite her objections to the scotch, she downed the drink in one swallow, grimaced, and then continued. 'You think every single thing about a person has to conform to your exact notion of who they are. Cynical. Sentimental. Romantic. Unromantic. You're incredibly narrow minded. Are you going to drink that?'

Oscar paused, the glass halfway to his mouth. Deciding that Hero's need was greater, he swaped his full glass for her empty one, watching in awe as she dispatched the second drink in the same swift manner as the first.

Seeing the empty glasses at a safe distance, he looked her straight in the eye, 'Okay Hero. What's the matter?'

There was a silence, and then Hero burst out, 'Pelham's going to propose to me.'

Oscar took in her agitation with interest, but wisely decided not to comment on it. Instead he said mildly, 'How do you know?'

'Sunday told me.'

'I know you're not much given to taking advice from me, but for Pelham's sake, try to act surprised when he asks.'

'Do you really think that I'd let on that I knew?' Hero asked, nettled.

Oscar sighed. 'Quite frankly, Hero, I don't know how you're going to react ninety-eight percent of the time. That first night we were together, you looked at me like you could fall in love with me, but since we met up again it's been nothing but sexually charged tension.'

Hero smiled sweetly. 'That's not true. I've definately progressed ito the numb-to-all-sensation-where-Oscar-is-concerned stage.'

'What's it like?'

'Peaceful. Very peaceful.'

'Well, enjoy it, because it won't last,' he advised. 'The next stage is utter-love-and-adoration-of-Oscar and it lasts for all eternity. Which gives you something to look forward to,' he added kindly.

'By that time I'll probably be married to Pelham, so I'll just have to admire you from afar.'

The combative sparkle went out of Oscar's eyes and he looked at her meditatively. 'I don't think you'll really do it. You don't love him, Hero. I know you don't.'

Hero bit her lip. 'Your mistake all along has been to assume that you know my mind better than I do.'

'I can't let you do it.'

'Luckily for me, I don't need your permission to make decisions concerning my own life,' Hero said composedly.

'In that case, just tell me one thing that I've always been curious about. I know I've asked you this before, but why did you stand me up that day at the Met?'

Heat burned through Hero's cheeks and for one wild moment she considered telling him about that agonising moment of indecision and self-doubt. She had wanted so badly to be Lola, to step forward and take Oscar's hand. But she hadn't. She turned away.

Oscar watched her fighting for an explanation, and decided to make it easier for her. 'My theory is that there are two Heros.' He smiled. 'Or perhaps there's one Hero and one Lola. Either way, I feel like a part of you desperatly wants to break free while the other part fights hard for security and stability, whatever the cost.'

'Lola doesn't exist,' Hero said, when she could speak. 'She was never real.'

'See, that's where you're wrong,' Oscar said gently. 'Because I kissed her, and she was very real to me.' He paused. 'The price that you're paying for security is too high, Hero. You'll be miserable with him. You know you will.'

'Oh well,' she said, in as flippant tone as she could muster, 'I suppose the only way either of us will ever know whether that's true is if Pelham and I actually do get married. But thanks for your concern. And I'm not a very good actor but I promise to act surprised when he asks me.'

'In that case, I suppose I ought to help you practise,' Oscar offered.

'What?' Hero asked, completely disconcerted.

Oscar moved closer. 'It's easy, I'll show you. When Pelham sits next to you in the moonlight, just like I am now, and he turns to you and says he's got something important to ask ...'

He took her hand as he spoke, and immediately something very peculiar happened to Hero's insides, her heart and stomach colluding in some sort of jumping game, over which she had obviously no control. It was the scotch, she decided hazily. Had to be the scotch.

Oblivious to the hammering of her heart, Oscar asked, persuasively, 'Hero, will you marry me?'

She tightened her grip on his hand, her eyes dreamy. When she spoke, her voice was little more than a whisper. 'Yes.'

His face almost touching hers now, and as his lips brushed lightly against hers, she closed her eyes. But then he let go of her hand. When she opened her eyes, she saw that he had settled back in the swing, putting distance between them. She looked at him in bewilderment as he said lightly, 'Sorry. I know I shouldn't have kissed you but I couldn't resist. Anyway, that was perfect. Look at Pelham exactly like that and he'll feel like the luckiest man alive. You know, Hero, I begin to have hope for your romantic streak, after all.'

He set the swing in motion once again, and as the world rushed forward to meet them, Hero didn't know why, but she felt very much like crying.

As you've guessed, my name is Thea which is greek for goddess. I'm a seventeen year old, who currently attends Macquarie University studying B-Comm accounting.

I was born on the eighteenth day of April 1990, which makes me a firey Aries and born in the year of the Horse, who has a love for diamonds and romance.

I am an only child which explains the abnormal behaviour I promulgate. Throughout the years I've learned how to entertain myself without turning into a complete psychopath. Unfortunately, I dislike the spoilt brat cliche I'm often imposed with. I don't consider myself a snob, who is obsessed with materialistic highs. Although I admit I can be a brat .. sometimes, especially when you push the wrong buttons.

I'd assume if you met me, you'd think I'm very much angelic, quiet & bubbly. Only the last would probably be true. I'd say I have split personalities, not only split but multiple! One day I could be tearing your head off, the next I'd be showering you with hugs & kisses. But one thing is certain, whatever my mood, I'll express it with my face & actions. I'm often told that I have mature thoughts, & that only applies sometimes as I'm a kid at heart.

My hair is naturally brown, so please don't annoy me by asking what colour dye I use. My father being spanish explains why an Asian like me doesn't have charcoal black hair. I was born and raised for four years in the Philippines until my family migrated to Australia.

Being asian has its quirks, such as having the ability to outrun anything, having a super fast metabolism, believing in the supernatural and being tiny enough to fit into small crevices. Or maybe the last aberration only applies to me, I'm what you would call 'petite.'

I follow the Catholic religion, so you'd probably see me attending church every Sunday morning or night and reading the bible for inspirational quotes on how to live my life. But this doesn't mean I'm perfect, I do of course have flaws.

You'll see me prowling around the area with mainly boys. Boys are genuine & don't usually obsess about useless gossips. I enjoy being one of the boys. Playing sports, being immature and immersing myself in obscure activities, which in most cases are illegal, absolutely hilarious and extremely fun!

Yes, I'm an athletic type. I'll be up for anything! Throughout my years, the sports that I have competed in have been Basketball, Indoor Soccer & Swimming.

Not only do I enjoy playing, but I love watching sports. What girl can resist hot, sweaty boys? With their big muscular arms and athletic body. Rugby does it for me! & those basketball & soccer players - oh damn.

I'm currently content with being single. I'm not looking for anything temporary, & I'm not really keen in looking or testing out the waters. But you know what they say, you think you know what you want .. but you really haven't a clue. If you're really something amazing, you may sweep me off my feet without me or you even knowing.

I have issues with technology, as I believe they killed any prospects of romance. Then again it could just be the boys of my generation that don't seem to have the romantic gene. Old fashioned dates is something I want revived!

Reading beautiful prose is what I live for. I'm what you would call a book nerd and I'm a sucker for Romance novels. Although a hearty laugh is what I love. Books allow me to escape into a realm on contentment, which my life usually lacks.

Throughout my life, I've met a few bad eggs, so don't hate if I have trust issues. I also have a habit of twisting your words to suit my frame of mind. It takes someone special to beat me at my mind games. My advise, give up & let me win, you'll do me & yourself a favour.

Feel privilaged if I call you a friend. This does not include if you are someone on my MSN list or if I have accepted you on myspace. But once you're in my little network of 'true friends' you'll be showered with love & appreciation. You'll also get an earful of how great I am & how lucky you are to have someone sexy like me in your life!

I'm going to end with the best thing to do in the world! & that is eating. It's my favourite thing to do! Food is the most beautiful thing on this whole entire planet. It never disappoints! More likely than not you'll find me chewing, if not, i'll have a bag of treats secretly stashed.