At the University of New South Wales’ Roundhouse, there’s a hunger in the air that is palpable. Best friends, in matching leather jackets, clutch copies of the same book to their chest. A few young women have brought male dates. Someone in the drinks queue, ordering an espresso martini, is talking about their breakup in hushed tones. Every seat in the venue is taken.
When Chanel Contos arrives on stage in a cropped brocade jacket, she receives roaring applause. The audience collectively holds their breath, as if they are about to be let in on a secret.
