A play-by-play of my terrifying interview with Zac Efron.

It’s 35 degrees because the weather in Sydney is trolling me which I don’t appreciate.

For one week, the only words out of my mouth have been a mumbled yell of IBEINTERVIEWINZACEFRON which has bothered people given the lack of context and also the aggression with which I’m speaking.

You see, today I be interviewin’ Zac Efron. And whenever I try to concentrate on other things, like doing my job or preparing questions, I get intrusive thoughts. Like this:

And on a related note, this:

It's very concerning.

My obsession with Zac Efron, who you might know from such films as 17 Again, Hairspray, Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates, Bad Neighbours AND Bad Neighbours 2, is probably inappropriate given my age (I'm... I'm a grown woman), and position as a person who HAS BEEN TRUSTED WITH THE RESPONSIBILITY OF INTERVIEWING HIM.

It started with 17 Again, when I realised that this sickeningly beautiful man was actually super... funny. It grew when I saw Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates and the funny + hot combination was even more obvious, and then I pretty much exploded all over my seat when I saw Bad Neighbours 2 and the equation became funny + hot + ... woke. 

But back to today.

I wake with a message from a colleague saying 'Happy Zac Efron day' which is thoughtful but also... I feel like she might be mocking me. I've been contemplating for days how to best make it seem like I'm naturally attractive (lol) without putting in a conspicuous amount of effort. "Did you fake tan?" a friend asks when I walk into the office. "Does a natural tan leave you with orange palms YOU MORON" I respond, and I realise I'm getting antsy. It's the nerves.

When I mention that I straightened my hair and put on a lot of makeup today (as though... as though it needs pointing out), my colleague nods, "ahh of course, for the cameras".

... No, not for the cameras, Keryn.

For Zac.

I started researching for the interview a week ago, but it was of no use.

It's at this point I need to confess something, and you're going to be mad. Because I'm being a really bad feminist today. You see, I'm also... I'm also interviewing Zendaya. And I haven't mentioned it until now which is really wrong because she's so talented and brilliant and does all the things like singing and dancing and acting and being ridiculously good looking.

BUT I JUST SO HAPPEN TO BE MADLY IN LOVE WITH HER CO-STAR, and it's no one's fault but his.

What kind of sick person would do this to a heterosexual woman?

A few days ago, I watched The Greatest Showman, the musical Efron and Zendaya are starring in, alongside Hugh Jackman. There's a romantic storyline between Efron and Zendaya, which I didn't appreciate, but the film is genuinely brilliant. And this interview is all about Zac Efron falling in love with me and us running away together the film.

As I leave the office to go to the interview, questions printed far too small on a single piece of paper, I actually feel like I'm going to vomit.

How will I look him in the eye. 

Do I mention the weather.

Should I shake his hand.

These thoughts are not questions but statements I am yelling at myself.

When I arrive, a group of journalists are sitting in the bar area. I see a familiar face and immediately shout IBEINTERVIEWINZACEFRON to which she replies that... yeah, so is she. She's more excited about Zendaya because she's a good person, isn't objectifying anyone, etc.

When she leaves to do her interview, I read my questions over and over again. I attempt to watch some more clips from the movie but seeing Zac Efron dance is doing nothing to calm my nerves.

OH JESUS it's my turn. I'm sweaty and terrified but... I know he can sense I'm coming.

I wait outside the room and hear the interviewer before me, who is making people laugh. Shit, 'why aren't I making him laugh?' I ask myself, before acknowledging that I am not yet speaking to anyone.

Cool.

Then I'm ushered in.

There's a curtain thingy. "WHERE IS HE?!" I yell on the inside but not on the outside because I'm a professional.

Then I see him.

He's... glowing.

His eyes are a piercing blue and he has the whitest teeth I've seen. He has a mustache but that doesn't matter. I remind myself to act like a confident person so I reach out to shake each of their hands. My hand touches his. I will never wash it.

I tell them I'm a huge "fans" and am somewhat impressed that I managed to make a dick out of myself SO quickly. It's a skill.

As I'm speaking to them both, everything is a blur. They're so... beautiful. Zendaya's face is not an actual thing and that is a fact. As she's answering a question, I look out of the corner of my eye and my stomach drops. He's staring at me. With his eyes. The way really attractive people do. 

I tend to not look people in the eye because I imagine that might mean they won't be looking... at my face. But beautiful people like to stare others straight in the eyes, because they don't mind people looking at their face. Because it's so... pretty.

The time disappears into a vortex and before I know it, I'm being signalled to wrap up. I feel a sense of disappointment that it's ending, then I remember something my former friend Luca said to me yesterday.

I was fussing over what to wear and he said, "it's not like he's going to fall in love with you".

Guys... I don't think Zac Efron fell in love with me. Not even a lil bit. Maybe because I'm just another one of the countless journalists that walked into that room today and asked remarkably similar questions.

But I could've sworn as I left the room, I heard three faint words.

Note: You can watch the interview, and study Zac Efron and Zendaya's faces, etc, in the video at the top of this article.

Also note: Why must I be so shiny.

And note too: I want to die when I think about the fact that my face looked like that when I was speaking to Zac Efron.

And finally note: Genuinely go see The Greatest Showman. Because Zac Efron. And also Zendaya. And Hugh Jackman. It comes out on Boxing Day.