I sat in the café, the corner with the best view, when I saw HIM: the guy who fluttered in and out of my dreams since my last visit to the cinema. Gorgeous. Charming. Eloquent – well, the latter was an assumption. But in my dreams, he was: We had heated arguments, passionate discussions, uplifting banters – everything I always dreamt of. He came straight towards me, saying: I love you, ruby cheeks! I tried to answer – and bit my tongue: There was no Mr Gorgeous! Coming towards me was a screaming kid, wailing for a toy his mother had taken from him: the unfinished Rubik Cube.