Oscar is sitting on the edge of the bed. He must have been waiting for you for 20 minutes.

You are in front of your wardrobe, in underwear. Every outfit you try on, you manage to find a flaw. You look fat with it, you'll be too cold or too hot. The little voice in your head always finds a problem.

''Babe, we're going to be late. You know, everything looks good on you.''

He tries to reassure you as best he can. Even though he knows how stressed you are to meet his parents.