It was time to fly the nest. All I had was a double bed and "warm wishes" from my parents. It sounds brutal, but at 17 I had everything I needed. I had found the cheapest apartment I could find and with that, was heading to Kings Cross. It was grubby, it was the red light district of Sydney, and it was my new home.
Everything was exciting, my eyes were wide open and this was my first experience of true independence. I had just started studying drama at the National Institute of Dramatic Art and, for a young, aspiring actor, I was involved in dramatic, imaginary and fictitious situations daily. Kings Cross was a place of characters and coming home, this was real life.
There was the "troll couple" next door who received regular visits from the police. There were the shady underworld figures and underbelly characters at The Bourbon and Beef Steak bar who, although terrifying, kept an eye on me while I worked the night shifts.
There were the evening conversations with the "barker" of one of the many nearby strip clubs. A young Lebanese man always trying to get people through the door. I was living in a melting pot. Every nationality and type of person on Earth was thrown together within a few square kilometres. It was a human zoo, and I loved it.
The people of Kings Cross became my friends. They adopted me into their society. This community was filled with kindness and acceptance, and everyone looked out for each other.
