Lots of people go away this time of year. So it is not a new thing for a teenager – or anyone for that matter – to come back and hear about a party they missed. How many people showed up, what the damage was and how badly the parents flipped out are all details to be discussed if half your friends went. Generally they tell you these things, not The Age, Herald Sun and A Current Affair. No matter how much of a brat Corey probably is, you can bet his parents are wishing they took him along now.

I’m not quite the girl-next-door, but a 17-year-old living in the suburb along from Narre Warren. So when I got home, gossip was coming from all sides. This is a story that wasn’t just spread by MySpace, but some of the country’s leading news providers – and we’re surprised it spilled into international headlines. It will always be a mystery how they determined that the “riotous crowd” consisted of five-hundred people. Especially when that number is dismissed by the people I’ve spoken to who were there — traditionally the ones you’d think prone to exaggeration.

Comparisons between Corey and Ferris Bueller are being drawn by people who were probably old during Matthew Broderick’s big Day Off. Which is a shame, because it means they consider Corey’s monosyllables equal clever social quips. Standards really are dropping across the board.

For everyone who isn’t a parent or a social commentator, Corey is already “the kid who had that party”. When pressed, other trivia and adjectives are offered, none of them flattering. My generation has been accused of apathy more often than I want to think about. Why is it suddenly so interesting that Corey doesn’t care about the consequences?

The aftermath of the party is defined by the media’s attempt to open up debate where there isn’t any. The first thing you learn in English when studying issues is that, by definition, there are two sides to the story. Questions such as “is he a delinquent or legend?” seem self-defeating when the obvious response is “since when were these mutually exclusive and who cares?”

My favourite part of all this is the idea that Corey will become Melbourne’s own Paris Hilton. That the impressionable youth of this city will turn to him as a role model and mentor. It seems ironic, when it is the “adult world” who are paying for a piece of him.