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Okay...
See you around.
I have to go.
Maybe you back next year?
Yes.
Hurry, we'll be late.
Want us to miss the train?
Come on.
It was just us girls, no parents.
A dream.
I'd had my first boyfriend.
I didn't speak Italian,
he didn't speak French.
I didn't like talking anyway.
I'd never seen the Med before.
I'd always spent summers at Gran's up north.
My sea was the North Sea, as a treat.
Or just the garden hose.
STELLA'S IN LOVE
After, compared to Italy, Paris felt empty and cold.
I loved sex with Enzo.
I thought it'd hurt, but it didn't.
It was so good...
-His cock... -Ok.
We get it.
Italy saw a group deflowering.
We rarely dated guys. We were outsiders.
They were intellectuals, I was a true outsider.
We didn't speak to others.
Well, I spoke to no one.
If we go back next year, will they have forgotten us?
No.
I've always wanted an epistolary relationship.
-You'll write to him? -To say what?
That you love his dick?
We hoped it would never end.
Come on in.
I'm Ms Clamart.
But call me Maud.
I'm your main teacher.
Put the desks in a U to make things easier.
Your final year.
The end of your schooling.
So this is it, it's here.
Let's get acquainted first.
Introduce yourselves and tell me what you do outside school.
You first. What do you do?
My name's Valérie Roucher and I draw.
That's great.
My goal at school was to not redo a year.
Sophia Legrand. I have no passions.
No passions?
Gladys, my best friend, was top of the class. That helped.
-Just work, like? -Not even.
You, next to her. What's your name?
I'm Stella Vlaminck. And... I dance.
Great. What style?
I dance in front of the TV.
At home, like.
Most girls like me were in vocational schools.
Great.
I'd just scraped into the final year.
But, for the baccalaureate, I couldn't cheat. We'd see.
-Study what? -Law.
Law!
My mind was elsewhere.
Better than at home.
Two weeks you vanished.
Heard of phones?
-Why didn't you call? -I dunno.
No idea when you'd be back.
Where's Dad?
You can see he's not here.
Your dad split.
Last week, we made a two-tier cake. The thing was huge!
Bring some.
Dad split with some bitch while I was away.
Her name was Stella too. What a homecoming.
A great start to the year!
The landlady's teary again.
You see...
-I bet he beats her. -You're gloomy, Marion.
-Are you pissed off? -No.
Had a bad summer?
It was ok. But the States with my dad isn't Italy.
You'll talk about it for months.
You didn't invite me.
It's not that. It's just...
That's how it came about.
Vincent's here.
How's it going?
I got to know Elodie when Gladys spent six months in England.
-He's really smart. -Hunky too.
She spoke to everyone, dated guys. She was the Traitor.
Marion looked sweet, but was unpredictable. She was the Dyke.
-Gross. -No.
-Us, naked. -Nice work.
-Who is he? -Max, he's in my class, redoing the year.
He's not bad.
-What? -Nothing.
Shall we split?
Even though Mum had a lover, she took it badly.
Really badly. She'd even slit her wrists.
-What did you do? -I was with my dad, as usual.
-We ate together. -Just the two of you?
Come on, girls!
Come on!
Come on, Mathilde!
More supple, Nathalie.
Think Elodie will make us pay for Italy?
I don't care.
It was weird not seeing Dad anymore.
My dad split.
With some bitch.
Will he come back?
I don't think so.
Come on, we'll get busted.
That's good.
One more lap.
Latin was my main language.
I dropped English cos the teacher hated me.
-Do any of you know the Punic Wars? -I know the Pubic Wars.
But don't have pubes yet.
She got off my back when Gladys said I lived in a seedy café.
Being a misfit suited me.
It helped me move up a year.
-Baccalaureate this year? -Yeah.
So pull your finger out.
Why d'you all piss me off?
What d'you want to do?
What d'you mean?
-After? -Work here like your mum?
-No way. -Why not?
-We're not nice? -Move, you suck.
Enough. Get lost.
-Eating, Mastermind? -Yeah.
What?
-What is there? -Boeuf bourguignon.
-Here. -Thanks.
-Is it your round? -Not at all.
I can't afford it.
-Why're you here? -I can't sleep.
Try jerking off.
-A dance! -No, you're a drag.
-That's seedy. -Come on.
Hands off the landlady. She's sacred.
C'mon, Rosy!
The Communist Party plunged these countries into a system that...
I'm sorry, your view of Communism is limited.
It's not all junk.
You ignore unequal conditions...
-He has a point. You're bored? -Yes.
We need to differentiate between Marxism and Marxism-Leninism.
Or even Stalinism.
If you wish to discuss inequalities, try seeing the Education Minister...
Les Bains Douches tonight with my cousin?
-Ok, I'll come. -Cool.
Clubbing with that cow?
Please take your documents now...
They pressured us with exams.
If I passed, I'd be the first in my family.
I really thought I'd try my best but...
I discovered clubs.
-Three. -Go on in.
Together?
See you on the dance floor.
Right away, I felt at home there.
From our café, I knew drunks, sex and partying,
sorrow drowned in drink and, above all, dancing.
-Want a drink? -I don't drink. Have my voucher.
-Never? -I grew up in a bar.
Forget it. That's André. He's a star here.
He bangs a model every night.
All together!
-Are you ok? -Fine.
-Were you up late? -A little. I didn't sleep well.
Come and help me, please.
Here you go.
This.... "I, the undersigned, Mrs Vlaminck..."
-Mum had never done a cheque. -A comma.
The comma comes after.
After Vlaminck.
She could barely read.
She began work at 15 as a maid for bigwigs
in Auvergne, then came to Paris.
Your dad's a bastard for leaving me in this shit.
I might have to sell the café.
Too many debts.
I don't like him, he looks pervy.
Not him. The fat one.
-Hi. -Hi.
Yvon, a delivery driver. Used to be Dad's best friend,
but soon became Mum's lover.
Eyeing my ass?
Dream on, kid.
-I only eye your mum's. -Shithead.
-You ok? -Yeah.
I'd like to come, but how d'you get in?
You need to dress up.
Farida on the door is tough.
-You need a look. -Sophia, lie down, you're late.
I slept at Sophia's.
Her mum's.
You're heavy.
She walks around naked.
Naked? You mean no panties?
No panties.
Focus on your breathing now.
Gladys, go out and calm down.
Go on, out.
Hurry!
As I had a problem with normal schools and authority,
these educational experiments suited me.
Breathe in through the nose.
Breathe out...
Sorry. Forgive me.
-Want to follow Gladys? -It's ok.
Embrace the breathing.
Seek nothing.
Anticipate nothing.
Embrace these images
that your subconscious sends you.
All right!
Let's try a little improvisation.
Vlaminck...
Over to you.
-Do a reed for us. -A reed?
A reed, the plant.
Will Elodie piss us off for clubbing without her?
She can't come. Dinner with her dad.
He's her guy.
No wonder it's weird with him, her mum's totally crazy.
Isn't it a bit small?
No, it's great.
It is a bit small but...
we won't get better for 3 francs.
I shouldn't come. We won't all get in.
Don't be so defeatist.
I'm not defeatist. What's with you?
Poor baby Marion. What a downer!
-We won't get in. -Stop whining.
-I'm not whining. -Listen to you!
You idiots don't react. See how she speaks to me?
You dumb bitches piss me off!
Ok, just clear off.
Marion!
Was I mean?
-Leave me alone. -Come here.
-You're crying? -You heard how she speaks to me.
Answer "Poor baby Marion," with "Poor cow".
-She's not my friend, ok. -Buy clothes with her, I'm gone.
Clara was Gladys' neighbour. I hated her at first.
She was at some elite school. But she was cool.
Well?
It's ok.
-It's tacky? -A little.
You now.
Let's try this.
No.
I can't zip it up.
What?
Well?
What're you doing?
We have a party. At Sophia the new girl's.
We'll sleep there.
-Is that true? -Yes.
Why would I lie?
Bye.
All together? Go ahead.
You, ok. Not the other two.
Going in?
I felt bad but thought they'd understand.
Thanks for dumping us at the door.
I'd have liked to come too.
You'd have done the same.
No, I wouldn't.
Was it good?
Amazing. There's one amazing guy. He talked to me.
What did he say?
-You dance well. -Thanks.
You leave me out every time.
Calm down, ok!
They're tiny but so noisy!
It wasn't planned. Come next time.
-Was the new girl there? -Yes.
-Your new friend? -No.
He dances so well...
-Really? -Yeah.
Is he totally black?
And you just fall in love?
I didn't say I was in love, just attracted.
Same difference.
What a fibber, she's in love.
Grow up!
Food fight!
That was it. I was in love.
Stella, can I have a beer?
If you take it, it's hard work.
I serve 150 at lunch, two sittings.
We have a big crowd of regulars from local offices.
I had the seating redone. Real leather, not imitation.
My daughter. She's not for sale.
Mehdi. You'll see him a lot.
Good customer, likes his drink.
Do you know what you call... No.
How does it go?
A Black and an Arab are in a van.
-Who's driving? -No idea.
The police.
Get it?
You got it, Mehdi?
The police.
What's up, Stella?
In love?
Fingers crossed. God knows how we'll eat otherwise.
-Give me my ciggie? -Yes.
Thanks.
-What d'you want for your birthday? -Nothing.
That's cheap.
Dad got me a VHS as a present once.
I was so happy. A week later, it went back.
Why?
It's not personal, but he'll end up in jail.
You don't want Gégé to go to jail.
I had no idea who Gégé was.
My birthday... A nightmare.
I was afraid people would forget.
I sulked if they remembered and even more if they forgot.
Happy birthday, dear Stella
Happy birthday to you
Presents.
Well, what is it?
A library card.
I thought it'd be tough revising at home.
-For exams. -Thanks.
We all chipped in.
Like it?
Really like it?
I sucked at accepting gifts.
Is it your birthday?
Yes.
Know what guys call you?
The Bug. Cos you're not nice.
Great.
Here.
Take it.
Like them?
Yes.
You have some pretty fancy jewels.
I won't let myself waste away.
Sign here.
-We said 400. -No.
-We said 450. -No, 400.
Make it 400 then. What the hell do I care?
-I hope she fucks well. -Stop.
For your sake.
I care. I hope you didn't leave for nothing.
-You look in shape, very content. -I'm in great shape.
-Know why I'm in great shape? -No.
I have a son now.
You asshole.
I looked for answers in books.
Reading gave me friends.
Balzac's characters were my friends.
-He's gone? -Yeah.
-No message for me? -No.
-Hungry? -No.
I had to stop thinking about Dad.
I didn't care. I was in love.
Shall we go?
The others stayed at home.
We went wild on clothes and it worked.
It was like getting a good grade.
As I'd never had one, I liked it.
I'm not sure about the dress.
-It's great. -It keeps falling.
No, really, it's great.
What's up?
When a guy's a drag, say, "Get lost, shithead"
-Get lost, shithead. -Get lost!
Yeah, get lost, shithead!
I liked that with Gladys.
It works.
She was always up for fun.
I'm gonna dance.
-Are you a student? -Yes.
Want a drink?
Let's split.
My tit keeps popping out. What can I do?
-C'mon, let's split. -Already?
Pull it up, your tits are showing.
Are you asleep?
Yes.
I think I'm in love with him.
He probably is too.
My head's spinning.
I'm not normal.
Yes, you are.
I'm not.
I can't sleep without a light.
I'm scared in lifts.
I'm useless with feelings and all that.
I often think of something else to avoid it.
I'm good for nothing, as my mum would say.
Other things matter too.
You're lucky to have a stripper's body.
That's what I was saying, no one could fall in love with me.
And I won't pass my exams.
I can help you if you want.
I have no future.
You could see a shrink.
Maybe...
what happened when you were little,
in the bedroom,
with Bubu...
Maybe you should tell someone.
Turn the light back on.
I didn't really do it with Mino. I was too scared.
I know.
How come you know?
I can tell now when you lie.
Be right back, I need to puke.
You never saw that.
Hold on... No!
Working hard on your exams?
I don't care, I scored.
She told you her dad left?
Yes.
That's life, you deal with it. Life is a pile of shit.
You eat a bit each day.
Finished? Shall we go?
-No chocolate mousse? -No, we're late for our class meeting.
-Goodbye, ma'am. -Bye.
Bye!
Life is shit!
Hear that? A pile of shit!
Not stressed about the meeting?
No.
Redoing the year would be dumb.
You're lucky, André's handsome.
-You, no praise, must try harder. -Ok, nothing. You?
Congratulations. Marion, encouraging.
Ok, nothing new.
I'm glad I got congratulations. Dad would kill me.
You always get them.
If I don't get them, Dad'll analyse me.
A habit from his job.
"Gladys, does your relationship to authority make you rebel?
-Is no boy involved?" -If only!
I feel bad. I don't know why.
-I can't stop crying. -Breathe.
It's no use.
-Pathetic. -What a loser.
Wanna fight, fat ass?
-What? -Hands off!
Get lost and leave my friend be!
-She's pathetic. -Piss off!
-She's nuts... -Fat cow.
I think I'm going mad like my mum.
You're not mad.
Just a bit nutty.
Gladys hears voices, but it's cute.
We form a gang.
Merry Christmas, Michel.
They had all gone skiing.
I wanted to see André but didn't dare go alone.
"I'm Going Far Away".
She's pretty.
For the second term, I decided I'd try to work harder.
I still didn't know what to do after.
-Your tans make you look really dumb. -That's skiing.
Come next time.
For my friends, it was easy: the best schools lay ahead. But me...
-Skiing sucks. -So what did you do?
-You went clubbing? -Not on my own...
Like last time.
For Kant, happiness is unattainable.
Man can only try to reach it.
Man must be ethical.
That surprises you.
We either agree or not with that ethos.
It's a question many raised in '68.
All I liked to do was dance.
I started young, in the café.
As I couldn't speak, I danced.
You could do dance at the Sorbonne, like in Fame. A dream.
You know the class struggle, Stella?
Kant's two imperatives, Stella?
-I know. -Clara?
-Hypothetical and categorical. -Good, my daughter.
Mum sold off the café to pay her debts.
The apartment was cut in two.
Can you help?
We had no access to the café half.
It sucked, I had no bedroom.
Fridge.
It also meant Mum had no work and we had no money.
It was great. They all came.
-Is that Jack Nicholson? -Yes, come on.
I can't stop watching him.
That's love.
I wish I could fall in love too.
Come on.
Get lost, shithead!
You dumped me last time.
No.
You didn't?
So I dreamt it.
-What're they saying? -I can't see. Is he pissed off?
Coming to my place?
-He asked me over. -Going?
You bet.
In a melody, each note
matches an emotion assembled like in a painting.
C major is a primary red, a powerful animal.
Without talking of synaesthesia, the basis of art is emotions.
That's also the reason why all paintings and stuff work really well.
People understand.
You talk about red, but look at blue. Yves Klein.
Clear and universal like...
What do you think of Klein?
I don't know him.
Basquiat? Keith Haring?
Pollock?
I had no idea.
Yeah, he's great.
Three "no's" were too many.
You're a weird girl.
You don't speak.
I'm talking to you.
I had a literary culture, but none of the rest.
Some music, guys?
I couldn't say my Arab-looking dad was a racist,
that he drank and insulted others, saying the same thing ten times over.
The shame of it.
I didn't talk about myself. It worked. I pretended.
I need to live
And feel each season
On the pathway to your heart I didn't find reason
Your feelings have taken me hostage
I feel it's time to turn the page
But tell them that I'm empty That I'm far from home
It was just a game
That changes within us
If you're just a thought
I'll think another day
Imagine
Imagine us again
Imagine
The image of our bodies
Imagine
Imagine us again
Again and again
-You slept with him? -No.
Stupid cow...
I fell asleep. It happens when I'm stressed.
You got scared.
There was a pal of his, Teddy. They're Black Panthers.
-How d'you know? -I didn't understand it all.
You saw him naked?
-Not even. -Useless.
-But his skin's soft. -Blacks have no body hair.
-That's gross. -What does "gross" mean?
Hi, how's it going?
Elodie had ended up dating Vincent. He had even become her slave.
-She scared him. -Who's Plouck?
-What? -Plock?
A painter.
Pollock!
-He does drip painting. -What?
There are LPs in his toilets, he has a music studio.
There are books everywhere...
Hurry, it's about to start!
Come on!
Yes, I let strangers call.
After Alain died, only strangers could fill my heart.
The last one was a boy of 17.
Someone wrote to the head.
That man is morally unworthy of his post.
Unworthy, yes, perhaps.
Elodie had understood.
This place was my only refuge.
She knew what she wanted.
A protective crack in the world's rock.
She'd be an artist.
I know what I want to do after.
-After what? -My baccalaureate.
Try to pass first.
Dance studies would be great.
No need to study to be a hooker.
Don't you wanna work?
Who needs to study? Finish, then get a job. Right?
Hadn't you found one?
They fired me.
Why?
Because the boss said...
when he heard I was getting divorced... "You live in the 17th district."
I said, "Yes." "Wednesdays, my girls have ballet.
I could call in to see you."
I said, "Hold on, pal, the ad didn't mention sex."
I didn't tell his wife. I was classy.
Between that pig and that other old bat
who won't hire divorced women...
Shit, nothing but men...
-The answer's no? -No.
-Why? -The philosophy mock exam Friday.
I get it. Exams, parents, your future, blah, blah.
Clubbing is a waste of time...
Come to my place. I have my viol class.
-Come after. -No.
My dad's coming. Move.
With my friends, all those years meant nothing.
With exams, the meter was reset to zero.
The gulf reopened.
Even if I said I didn't give a shit,
I knew it determined my future.
As it never rains but pours, Yvon had left his wife.
He was always around.
Your mum said to say your dad won't be coming.
Really?
How does she know?
-No idea. What's this? -A film.
I can see that.
Mum had put me on a camp bed in the hallway.
Like this kind of film?
-I like it. -I don't care!
Thank you.
Aren't you afraid alone at night?
I'm waiting for Les Bains to open.
You go alone?
Yes.
He wasn't there.
You're a regular now. I guess Farida likes you.
Want some?
-No thanks. -How old are you?
How old for real?
-I'm 17. -17?
The age I left home.
Maybe he'll never come again.
Today, the Berlin Wall...
I went to Les Bains three times a week.
Thursday, Friday and also Saturday. Alone.
I even did the swimsuit contest.
...separating Germany into two different states...
André hadn't reappeared.
I hung out near Les Halles or his place. No one.
At school, I just showed up.
I felt I had the time to see...
Sophia, for instance, had quit school.
School phobia, they said.
I told my parents I couldn't go on.
I'll do the exams by correspondence.
I'm at my mum's now and that's cool.
Ms Vlaminck, does this class interest you?
-Yes. -Then show it.
Stella, try harder, it's not that tough.
"Try harder, it's not that tough." Stupid cow!
Then my dad reappeared.
Sorry about the other day, honey.
My pal Lionel had a problem and needed my help.
How's school?
It's ok.
-Got a boyfriend? -No.
Good.
Guys are all jerks.
-How's your mum managing? -She got a job in a fancy restaurant.
-I'll work there weekends. -Yeah?
I'm a barman near La Chapelle.
-I'll give you the address. -Ok.
I didn't like working with Mum.
We were servants, mother to daughter.
You'll go far.
With a Rosy there already...
Minou.
Mum became Minou.
You're divorced, I can't wish you any better.
-I like these breaks. -Yes, I can imagine.
If I want, in two weeks her husband cheats on her.
She'd better keep off my back.
-Ok? You didn't eat. -I hate lamb.
-You hate lamb? -You didn't say.
-Hungry? -Want something?
No, it's ok, thanks.
Want to hold the baby?
Stella?
-Yes? -Pour me a drink?
Thanks, baby.
-Want kids? -No way.
-Why not? -It's too soon.
How old are you?
-17. -Too soon.
She wants to study.
-What? -I don't know.
Serge...
-What? -You fell asleep.
-I didn't. -You did.
A little.
The baby will have a normal life. A mother who works in a bank.
A father...
Let's split.
My place?
-It's good. -Like it?
Want to do a voice?
Follow the melody. If you can't do it,
I'll help you.
-Do it with me? -Yes.
Act as if
As if I were here
Act as if I were here
Make me breathe
I tend to forget
Often I get bored
I seek out trouble
Love, don't worry about it
I don't want any
But I still dream
And I dream and I dream
And I still dream
About you
And I dream about you
But I still dream
And I dream and I dream
And I still dream of me in your arms
-I still love you -But I still dream
And I dream and I dream
And I still dream of you in my arms
You sang, "I love you."
So you really love me?
-You were dreaming. -Again?
-Where're you going? -I'm late.
Flaubert presents Madame Arnoux as an apparition
for his character, Frédéric. It's an instantaneous process.
But, slow or instantaneous, it doesn't tell us what love is.
Plato tried...
Well?
There's a famous example...
Mazel tov! You'll be nicer now.
Man and woman were originally a single being cut in two by Zeus
as punishment for impertinence. Apart from the comic aspect,
there's the notion of emptiness. Hush, Stella.
A huge question.
Consider it by reading the text on page 32.
Easter holidays began the next day. Two weeks.
We went to Gladys' parents' house.
I didn't have his number. I'd said nothing.
That we'd see each other again, nothing.
What an idiot!
I couldn't stop thinking about him.
They'd enrolled in a riding course, so I followed.
-If you want, we can try a trot. -I'll stop, I've had enough.
I wasn't sure I liked riding.
Besides, I'd never ridden.
Wait for me!
Let's go up here.
What do you want to do after?
Write a book.
Aren't you afraid you'll fail?
I don't think about it.
I'd like to sort out all the voices in my mind.
Here.
When I got home, Mum had rented me a bedsit nearby.
I couldn't sleep in the hallway with Yvon there.
There's so much shit.
She said it couldn't go on.
She can't make a bed! You pain!
What are you doing?
It's you. Slide it underneath now.
Tuck it in properly or you'll end up on the mattress
and start bitching.
There.
I had a revelation that day.
As dancing was screwed, I realized something.
I needed to play the piano.
You're never bored if you play a piano.
You're never alone.
The menu.
I just needed a piano.
Careful, she's an actress. Maria something.
Pacôme. I know.
Smile or I'll lose my job.
Shit...
I'm going for a pee.
Would you like something?
Don't stay here, dearie.
It's no place for you.
Thank you.
-What did she tell you? -To split.
What a nerve!
Would he be there?
Maybe he'd pretend we hadn't met.
Maybe he wouldn't want me now he'd slept with me.
Wanna split?
Where were you?
On holiday.
With the girls.
You never talk about yourself.
What d'you want to do when you grow up?
I dunno...
Play the piano.
You never ask me
questions about myself.
Don't I interest you?
You do.
Maybe I could talk to him for real one day.
-I have notes. -OnThe Counterfeiters ?
We should take notes all year.
C'mon, Miss Perfect.
All I'm saying is, if you were organized...
There's a lesson in the book. Got it?
I don't think so.
Thanks.
-Don't care about the baccalaureate? -Not at all.
And you?
Me neither.
I don't need it for Fine Arts.
It's dumb, learning by heart like idiots.
All we do is forget what we know.
How d'you mean?
For starters, we forget we're gonna die.
I'm the opposite. I'm afraid of not making the most of it.
What are you doing? Fucking?
Come and work with us.
Mum had been dumped by Yvon.
Now she was free, her lover didn't want her.
He had even shat in the bag full of family photos.
Run! Go to my place!
Fucking Negro!
Let's split!
Stella.
Check the alarm. What time is it?
Ten to five.
I thought he was telling me it was time to leave.
You're going?
Yeah, I have a Latin class.
It's 5 am. Isn't it a bit early?
It's far away.
See you.
I always reacted badly.
On top of not thinking, I acted any old how.
Mum and I were seeing Dad to sign some papers.
We'd had no news. We just knew he'd left
the girl with the baby.
Actually, my mum was worried.
-What'll you have? -Nothing.
-A glass of water. -Water?
-Sergio, are you pissed off? -No, don't bust my balls.
Did Nanar beat you up?
We'll go to Nanar's. He's my new buddy.
He gave me the black eye.
Cos I slept with Véro.
And Véro's his wife.
Great. Lovely atmosphere.
He died a year ago.
18 years old.
He was so sweet.
I miss him so much.
-Did you find it? -No Kanterbrau, I got Kronenbourg.
Good idea.
That's Stella, my daughter.
-Bernard. -Hello.
-Her mother, Rosy. -Hello.
Give me a hug.
My beautiful daughter...
Here.
Sign all this.
No need to read it, trust me. Just sign at the bottom.
Véro?
Can you pour me a beer?
A beer, please.
With peanuts.
Want some peanuts?
No, thanks.
Bernard!
Help me. Two tramps are jerking my chain.
That's not nice.
-Serge is nice. -It's not that.
Really?
It's cos we're tired.
And I thought the baby would have a family.
I was wrong.
He'll croak if he carries on.
He had soon left their little house.
He rarely had his son and fed him on snacks in seedy hotels.
A case for social services.
After that, my father went downhill.
-Shut up! -Let go of me!
Help!
-You said it was interventionist? -I did.
If you don't put the New Deal is an interventionist policy,
you're a total idiot.
-Are you ok? -Yes.
At least that's over.
Hands off, bitch! Ok?
Fuck you and your crap café!
Serve his salad, you cow!
Stop right now!
Shut the fuck up!
Are you serious?
-I spoke to you. -Don't touch me, ok!
You're mental!
Get off my back. Don't hit people for disagreeing.
Why are you such a bitch?
I'll calm down. You're boring and slow, already dead.
She has problems.
Sorry? What did you say?
You have problems at home.
You're my friend, defend me.
Don't you learn that in your world?
No, it's all just a front.
As dumb as your parents.
Stella!
Stella, come back up!
She split.
-She left? -Yeah, she took off.
I screwed up.
It doesn't matter.
The pressure of exams.
I didn't bother.
Want a ride?
Where are you going?
Les Bains.
Something wrong?
No, I'm ok.
I'm bored shitless.
Get lost then.
I passed!
Vlaminck, Stella - Resit
I'm so happy, girls!
Well done!
That's Stella...
We should go after her.
-A resit is ok. -It's pathetic.
-It isn't. -Give me a break, I won't go.
-Not even for a present? -Bullshit.
A radio cassette player.
A radio cassette player and a sweater?
Deal.
You're here?
Sorry, I was in too big a rush to make the bed.
Well? Will you get it?
I dunno.
It's a pity you handed in your apron.
And even dumber you told the boss to get fucked.
C'mon, I'll buy you an ice cream.
That's it, the boss got punished.
-Why? -I'm shagging her guy.
He's cheating on her.
She knew he had a dental appointment and bumped into him "by chance".
I'm old.
Life may be shit, but my mum gave it spice.
Our heart, better than all others, knows how to love.
That was it!
You did it!
Thanks to my friends, I passed.
I'd go to university.
The holidays began.
We went back to Italy.
I found Mino and his pale blue suits.
I'd see about André later.
He told me:
Have fun.
Make the most of it.
I reacted badly.
I often recall his song.
The future begins in September.