You better be at the fucking Oscars.
Yes. At around that age when you start trying to impress the girls in your class, I had this girlfriend who didn’t exist. My invented girlfriend was from Paris, and she had a name; I knew exactly what she looked like and exactly where she lived in Paris. I thought the whole story would make me really interesting - because the best girls are all in Paris, right? And I was good at it. It was all about the details: I would get presents from this fictional girlfriend, and was careful to make her signature on the cards in a different handwriting. And then, of course, my teacher announced that in two weeks we’d be doing an exchange - we were going to Paris. So everyone got really excited about meeting this girl. And shortly before the trip we broke up, of course. -Daniel Brühl