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Hi, Germain.

Anouk!
How are you?

Fine.

- How was your vacation?
- Good, and yours?

Like always in Britain.
Teachers' meeting is about to begin.

I know.

- Did you see the schedule already?
- Yes I did.

- And how is it?
- 8C, a great class.

- Lucky...
- To say the least.

Read the newsletter?

Oh yeah,
equality prevails in the republic again.

The populists aren't done yet.

Why so pessimistic?

I read Schopenhauer all summer.

- Good day.
- Hello

Hi, Robert.
How are you?

Dear collegues, we'll begin.
Please, take a seat.

Can you hear me well?

Yes, yes.

You all got the newsletter about
the changes in school policy.

We are now not only a school,

but a real classical lyceé,
and it's an honor.

In the educational work we introduce
new principles and an original direction

but at the same time look at the
traditions, For example, a school uniform.

In our highschool, there are students
from different backgrounds.

and the introduction of
uniforms is a very bold step.

I repeat. It is a bold step to
equalize all of our students.

Based on the play of Juan Mayorga
"El chico de la úItima fila".

IN THE HOUSE

Well, how did it all go?

You could've come with me.

I haven't gone anywhere in ages.

But it was Bruno's funeral.

He's not my relative or a friend.

You could've come for my sake.

I saw the twins.

They were just like
Bruno described them.

I had decided not to give condolences.

But when I was leaving,
one of the approached me.

I don't know which one,
I can't tell them apart.

She told me that tomorrow she'll
come to the gallery to discuss plans.

- Germain, are you listening?
- Yes.

OK...

Shall we go to the movies?

Ok, I'll just correct the essays.

0, 6, 3, 10, wow.

What, are they such idiots?

I never had a worse class,
it's a nightmare.

You say that every year.

That's true. Listen: On Saturday
I ate pizza and watched TV.

And on Sunday I was tired
and did nothing. Period.

In thirty minutes a couple of sentences.

Two days in the life of a teenager.

Saturday: Pizza and TV.
Sunday: Nothing.

I didn't ask them to write a poem.
I asked to write about their weekend.

I wanted to see if they
write more than two lines.

They can't!
And here's another one.

"I don't like Sunday I love Saturday.

But on Saturday dad didn't let me
go out and took my cell phone. "

You know, Jeanne,
I started to teach

to instill a taste in
literature in the kids.

Whatever, cell phones and pizza.
Consumerism and ignorance.

Here's our future.
These kids are our future!

Philosophers and reactionaries
predict the invasion of the barbarians.

And the barbarians are here,
in our schools!

"How I spent my weekend.
Claude Garcia.

On Saturday I had my first
training with Rafael Artola. "

Thank you, dear.

"I went to it because I always
wanted to get into his house.

All last summer I watched Rapha's family

sitting on a bench in a nearby park.

One evening,
I spied on them from the sidewalk,

and his mother almost caught me.

On Friday I was lucky
- Rapha failed a test in mathematics,

and I offered to help
him with the homework.

That was, of course,
only an excuse.

I knew that we would go to his house,

because Rapha would never have
agreed to go to my neighborhood.

At eleven,
I rang their doorbell.

And that house finally
opened up before me.

I went after Rapha to his room,

It was just like I had imagined.

We did some trigonometry homework,
I immediately tried to get away,

saying that I'll go get a Coke.

And there I was, standing in the house
that I'd dreamed about for ages.

It looked bigger than I'd thought.

Four of my homes would fit in it.

It was clean and nice everywhere.

"Enough for today", I thought
and meant to go back to Rapha,

but then I was attracted
to a strange odor.

Scent of a middle class woman.

I went towards the smell in the room.

There, sitting on the couch, intently
reading an interior design magazine,

sat Rapha's mother.

I looked at her for as long as she did
not lift her sofa colored eyes at me.

"Hello, are you Charles?"

What a voice! Where do those
women learn to talk like that?

"No, Claude",
- I answered, not meeting her eyes.

- Are you going to the toilet
- No, to the kitchen.

She went with me.

"You want ice? Take it yourself",
- she said. "make yourself at home".

And she returned to the
couch and the magazine.

And I returned to Rapha and
solved the homework for him.

Looked like he had lots of
work to do to pass the exam.

"To be continued. "

He wrote:
"To be continued"?

Yes.
And in parentheses.

You gave him a ten?

No grammatical mistakes.

Compared to the others,
the vocabulary is good.

Who is that kid?

Just a sec...

Claude Garcia.
I haven't yet memorized who's who.

A ten for making fun of
a friend and his mom?

This year we'll study
great French authors.

La Fontaine, great master,
combined form and content.

You will learn how to write,
express your thoughts

and to express yourselves
through the written word.

And don't forget. For Monday
- an essay using these words.

And try to write at least something.

Spend at least an hour with a book.
And not with your cellphones.

I believe in you and rely on you.
Read a book. Be curious.

- You wanted to see me sir?
- Yes.

This essay on your weekend...

You wrote it yourself?

Yeah, so?

Weird essay.
Get it, please.

Sure, punctuation errors?
I always put the colon in the wrong place.

No, the punctuation is fine.

I'm better with math, but this year
I decided to work on my French.

Here the problem is the content.

You're writing about a classmate
and his family. It's not ethical.

Did you give it to someone else?

Not yet,
but I thought about showing it to him...

to the principal...

But I didn't write it for him,
but to you.

And how would Rapha like
to read something like this?

"... I was attracted to a strange odor.
Scent of a middle class woman".

But worst of all is that which I can
read between the lines. Your tone.

How would Rapha feel if you read
this in front of the classroom?

I don't know.
You asked to write about our weekends.

I do not understand what
you're trying to do, but okay.

you can go.

Sir, can I return the
essay with the words?

- It's due on Monday.
- But I wrote it already.

I guessed that we have to use the words

that you wrote on the board.

But I didn't understand if we have
to keep the order of the words.

Not necessary.

And if we could use the
words more than one time?

you can. Return it on Monday.
Check for mistakes.

No, better right now.
I'll do math on the weekend. Bye.

"Write and essay using
the following words:

happy, other, normal, good,
focused, small, fantastic.

Hi, Rapha.

On Monday I suggested to Rapha to
work together again on trigonometry.

he was happy,
and again invited me to his home.

Well, are you coming tonight?

Rapha. Why Rapha?
Why that normal, sweet guy?

Because he's different.
He's normal.

Lot's of normal guys around,
but something in just him attracted me.

The previous year I noticed, that after
class his parents often picked him up.

Always together,
holding each other's hand.

Other guys would be ashamed
of their parents picking them up.

But not Rapha.
He didn't mind at all.

And then I thought:
"What's his home like?"

What can a house of such
a normal family be like?

- Good day Mr. Andre!.
- Hello Rapha!

On the way we chatted just
what normal kids chat about.

About girls, sport, basketball... cars,
and plans for the future.

And so in conversation we got to
the end of our journey. To his home.

Gallery "Minotaur's Labyrinth"

Do you think it's for perverts?

I don't know.

The twins said so.
After all nobody's buying.

And if they bought,
they'd recognize this masterpiece.

Butcher shop, gallery
- the provincial cows don't care!

You know what I like.
In paintings I find the faces interesting.

If in the paintings are
only bare bottoms...

Germaine, I just don't care.

Spare me your theories of Modern Art.

Just tell me, what are those twins?
Stupid fools!

Stupid fools want to
close down the gallery?

I have a month to make
that business profitable.

Find something to sell.

If not, they'll end the contract
and then the gallery's finished!

And how was your day?

Mine? Like usual.
Chatted with the young man.

And?

Well, we talked and he
gave me the next essay.

And?

The same. Second chapter. You
remember he warned? To be continued.

- You have it with you?
- Yes.

You don't want to show me?

I don't know if it's worth it.

I've read the essays of your
students for ten years.

It's great that you're helping me.

When we entered, Rapha's mom was
in the living room with...

...a magazine and a tape measure.

Hi, mom.

She didn't notice at first,
she was so preoccupied.

- Everything ok?
- Yeah.

On the TV,
next to a chinese dragon,

there was a foto of the "holy" family.

And the dragon looked at
them with hungry eyes.

- And your friend?
- Claude.

- Hello
- Hello, Claude

- How are you doing?
- A four in math.

...Said Rapha:
"Thanks to Claude! Four!"

Fantastic!
Would you like something to eat?

I would!

- I bought fresh bread.
- Cool.

- Chocolate spread in the cupboard.
- OK.

Eat.

And she floated back to the living room
with her magazine and tape measure,

hovering above the floor
like a disembodied spirit,

but through her dress,
all the curves of her body could be seen,

the middle class woman.

"To be continued. "

Awkward feeling.

Why?

It doesn't bother you that a
16-year-old guy writes like that?

With such irony?

Yes, but not really.

No more than your sex
shop with rubber dolls.

It's not a sex shop Germaine,
it's a gallery!

Yeah yeah, overthrowing the ideals.
Sex and dictators.

Exactly.
Dictators of sex.

You have to talk with the principal.

About "the curves of the body
of a middle class woman"?

Or ask for advice from
his other teachers.

And with his parents.
Really, with his parents.

So they'd stop him from going there?

Not with Rapha's parents,
his own parents.

Claude's.

He needs a psychologist.
He might become dangerous.

He's just a rebel. Reality makes him mad.
And who'd blame him for that?

It's better to let it out in
words than to blow up cars.

Maybe he has problems,
and he wants your attention.

What does he look like?

I'd say normal.

And how does he act in class?

Normal, sits quietly.
And always in the back.

Just like you.

Well it's the best place in the room.
You see everyone and nobody sees you.

- Hello
- Hi

Good day, Germaine.

Hi, Anouk.

Germaine!

- How's it going?
- Not bad.

The beginning of the school year
is a hard time for everyone.

Can you show the records
of a certain student?

- Yeah, sure. Which class?
- 8C

OK, 8C,
name of the student?

- Claude Garcia.
- Claude Garcia...

Yeah yeah,
I see, here!

Modest character...

In the city for twelve years...
Often moved...

Only child,
no mother...

Father unemployed due to injury

an accident at work.

"How wonderful could be this house.

Watch the use of adjectives.

And the rest is good.
And I brought you something to read.

This my own book,
not from the library.

so you can not write in them,
bend or break the cover page.

All I've read before,
was a bit shorter.

Read the first page.
If you don't like it, return it.

And if you don't like it,
return it.

"Once again,
entering in a normal family home,

I once again found a friend called
Rapha who was not good at math.

What?

- Look: Here we have
- from negative infinity to zero,

And here,
from zero to positive infinity.

You're workin as a team?

Exchanging information?

You're sharing responsibility and powers?

I'll give you a pass,
you make a move and shoot!

288 Tonight the Grizzlies
is playing the Clippers.

- Should we order pizza?
- Awesome!

- Four cheeses and salami?
- Four cheeses and salami!

- You staying, Charles?
- My name is Claude.

I'm taking a shower.

Bye, guys!

OK

"I accept the offer of the
healthy fellow in a track suit. "

- Your dad's fun.
- He's cool.

While Rapha jr. is fighting the X's

I'm imagining how Rapha
Sr. is taking a shower.

They're both called Rapha.

An hour later we go to the living room
and I don't immediately recognize his dad.

Who's now without the track suit

that gave him a bossy look.

But having taken the remote in his hand he
was showing who is the master of the house.

They have a Chinese guy, and the Chinese
civilization is a 1000 years older than ours.

The Clippers have a Korean,

and the dad starts reminicing about
China, which he is obsessed with.

Well of course!
Oh come on!

And in China, it's filial respect
that is the most important thing.

They respect their parents. grandparents,
great grandparents and so on.

Ten years ago he went
to China for a week.

And now thinks he knows
everything about the Chinese.

At the fifteenth minute,
the star forward of the Grizzlies

is thrown out of the game for a violation

and on that moment,
the dad gets a call from work.

Hello.

Oh, Maurice.

Maurice is his boss.

It turns out that Rapha Sr.
It turns out that Rapha Sr.

has to meet a Chinese
client Wong Li at the airport.

"At such a time",
worried the wife.

How annoying.

And so, the dad leaves for
the airport to meet Wong Li,

meanwhile the Clippers are
fully using their advantage.

Son of a bitch!

- How unfortunate, but this is a parody!
- Parody?!

How you describe the arrival of Rapha Sr.
How you describe the arrival of Rapha Sr.

his way of speaking,
his stupid track suit

you exaggerate features of the character
to make the readers laugh, right?

Totally not.

It's realism then.

Realism, what is it?

Like shooting the reality with a
hidden camera through a keyhole.

Well no.

Then it must be stylized.

Do you write what you see,
or do you change some things?

I don't describe everything

For example,
I don't care what color the track suit was.

And why do you write
in the present tense?

It's a way to stay in the house.

Alright.

The first question a writer must ask:
Who am I writing for?

So, who are you writing for?

It's easy to show mediocrity in bad light

It's amusing to make fun of
those who think they are giants.

It's necessary to put yourself in the place
of the character without judgement.

Remember Flaubert, an ideal example.
He never judges his heroes.

Well see tomorrow in class.

Yes.

Why are you helping me?

Because I'm your teacher,
it's my job.

But why me?

I hate giving compliments,

but you don't write so bad also
you deserve encouragement.

Thank you sir.

- See you tomorrow.
- See you.

I don't understand what you're achieving.

That kid has a talent in writing,

and though it may sound grand,

I need to teach him
become a literary master.

and at the same time and
teach him morality lessons.

Morality lessons?

Literature has never
taught anybody anyhing?

Oh really?

Do you know what they found in the
pockets of John Lennon's murderer?

"The Catcher in the Rye"!

What did literature teach this vermin?
Nothing!

Oh of course,
your exhibitions are teachings a lot...

My exhibitions are the same.

They are also not teaching anything,
and I know it.

But they open up the beauty of things!
Wine?

"Version two. Return to the house.
We're sitting in Rapha's room.

I'm helping him prepare for
his math exam tomorrow"

Come in!

"Rapha Sr. comes in,
he's wearing a green track suit,

he asks me to watch together
with them the Grizzlies game.

On minute two the second
quarter the get three pointers,

and both Raphas go
crazy with excitement,"

- Beautiful!
- Totally crazy!

Kids...

"On the third minute the mother sits
down to watch the game together with us,

although she doesn't care about it at all.

On the seventh minute she
opens an issue of Home Ideas

and looks at her dream home,

in which it's her fate to some day live.

On the 8th minute dad
promises he'll buy a plasma TV.

And we'll put the TV here
- opposite the sofa...

On the 10th minute Esther starts to
draw a remodeling plan of the house.

She lingers in the living room, but not only
because of her love for interior design.

On the 20th minute she looks
at the ceiling, concentrated.

Resolving an important decicion:
where to put the new bathroom.

On minute 20 the star forward of
Grizzlies is thrown out of the game.

Both Rapha's stand up
and start applauding.

they look insane.

The phone rings. Dad looks at his watch,
and reluctantly answers the phone.

Hello.

Oh, Maurice.

No no,
not busy at all.

Tell me.

Yeah, I'm writing it down.

At 2:15, Terminal 2.

What card?

Oh yeah,
with his name?

Wong Li?

After O?

Hotel Convent?

Don't worry Maurice,
it'll be fine.

OK!

And so, dad leaves for the
airport to meet Wong Li,

and the Clippers are fully
using their advantage.

The middle class woman joins us again.

Apparently, she doesn't
understand basketball at all.

Kids, who's winning?

Clippers.

And aren't you happy?

Of course,
me and dad are Grizzlies fans.

So start being Clippers fans.

Well, Mom...

To be continued...

Yeah, you're right.
He has a gift.

But the second version was even
more ironic and contemptuous.

- You think so?
- Yeah, he's manipulating you.

You think you're teaching him literature,
but he has the lead.

Have you read Dostoyevsky?

A genius. He could make ordinary
small people into intriguing heroes.

And you probably want
to be a caricaturist?

But I told you that I only write what I see.

And all you can see is ugliness?

That's great, but you have to
learn to rethink it creatively.

If you don't do that,
nothing in the world will change.

I brought you more books.

Chehov, Dickens and the ingenous
Madame Bovary by Flaubert

What is in front of you?

Most usual things.
A kitchen clock and a fan.

Yes, usual, but not quite.
Everything has it's own quirks.

You see,
on dial there are thirteen hours.

Well yes.

And this, listen!

- What.
- Quiet. Listen.

It's verbal painting.

An artist asks the spectator
to carefully look at

an empty frame or a naked wall.

He draws the picture and the spectator,
or in this case the listener,

becomes the co-author:
he imagines a picture

and projects his image
in the empty frame.

The picture exists in reality,

but the artist, by drawing,
also destroys.

In the same way artists make
fun of the cultural industry,

that produces only tangible,
material objects.

It doesn't offer them anything
poetic, ephemeral, immaterial.

I doubt they're buying that..

Germaine!

I have three months until the exhibition,

and, if nobody's buying,
they'll throw me on the street!

If I have to stand naked on display
to save the exhibition, I'm ready.

Do you want to read?

I brought Rapha three problems,
an easy one, to get him excited,

a bit harder, to solve together,
and a really hard one,

so he'd be occupied for a long time.

While he's fighting with the numbers, I can
walk around the house of the normal family.

The Chinese are very smart.
And Maurice isn't worth a penny to them.

It's too little for him.
He wants at least 20%

They won't bargain
with him and I thought:

maybe I'll quit and
start my own business.

But work is good and they love you.

But they don't respect me.
And Maurice steals all my ideas.

You yourself keep
talking about teamwork.

Yes, but there's always the one who
passes and the one who loses the ball.

The Chinese proposed a
line of Barbie-like dolls.

3€/doll.

And in retail
- ten times more.

You can send the specs,
or just photos, and they'll copy it.

But of course,
you need investments.

We'll have to save.
No more antiques.

And what about the renovations?
I wanted to build the terrace.

Esther, you need motivation at my age.

Something must be sacrificed.

Look how much money Maurice makes,
and how much I do.

So please help me.

Promoting products,
establishing contacts - It's your thing.

Are you suggesting we work together?

Yes.
Together.

But, when Rapha grows up,
I want to work as a designer.

Darling, but it's for all of us!

And if it works out, you can
make all your dreams come true!

I don't know...
I'm so tired.

And what are you doing here?

Rapha is solving a problem,
I went out of the way.

You should go!
It's late!

She saw that I was spying, and maybe, believed
that I was looking at the watercolors of Klee

Did he hear it all,
or make it up?

Of course he made it up!

He stared at the paintings,
and maybe heard bits of conversation.

- It's still weird.
- What?

- Where did they get a painting by Klee
in the house? - Just a reproduction.

I don't know...

Rapha has an important
math exam in a week.

I think we should hire a tutor.

But the friend is working with him

He needs a real teacher.
That work is of no use at all.

But Rapha likes working with him.

He's weird.

Was standing in the hallway watching
watercolors, and it looked suspicious.

I'm tired of him hanging
out here every night.

Rapha should be banned
from seeing him.

To be continued...

Do you know who he reminds me of?

Who?

My cousin Andre,
he was at our wedding.

Spying on everyone and
getting some kicks out of it.

Some people love to look at
the world through a keyhole.

The initial surprise has worn off...

You look like a cousin from the province,
spying on relatives.

- If anyone reads this book...
- Someone else is reading it?

Well, no.
I haven't show it to anyone.

- And please, don't show it.
- OK!

But if someone had read this,
he would have said, this is not enough...

not enough conflict.

The character strives for something

but on his way to the target meets
certain obstacles, rivals and enemies.

Odysseus wants to return home,
but meets the Cyclops Polyphemus

The Sirens and the sorceress Circe.

Sometimes the is a conflict not with an
external enemy, but inside the hero.

And it's not about remaking
verandas or scams with the Chinese,

I'm talking about a
deep internal struggle.

Achilles!

Either go to war or remain
home with his wife and friends.

A reader wants to know how the hero
solves the problem and reaches the goal

This is the main question that the author
should form in the perception of the reader.

What will happen next?

If you're writing a detective
story or a Shakespearean drama

there is one task
- to make the reader wonder:

What will happen next?

"There is no development
- complains the reader, it's boring. "

The reader is like the
Sultan from Scheherazade.

If I get bored,
I'll cut off your head!

And you tell an interesting story,
you'll survive.

The sultan is a perfect example.

People need stories!
Life without stories is worthless.

- Bravo, Maestro!
- Do not call me Maestro!

- I'm afraid that I can't write any more.
- Why not?

The math test is soon,
and I'm sure Rapha will fail.

Then they'll find a tutor for him and
I'll be thrown out of their home.

So what?

If you want me to continue to write...

Wait a minute. You want me to
steal the answers to the test?

I never said that.

But Rapha can't solve equations,
he'll fail the exam.

You can write without going
to their home. Make it up.

I tried.
But I need to see them.

Leave.

Hi, Bernard!

Do you teach math to 8C?

And not only 8C.

And Raphael Artole?
Any good?

Not really,
but he tries.

And when do you have the next exam?

On Thursday.

I wonder what kind of
problems will there be.

I'm sorry, but since when
are you interested in math?

Move along...

Just a second...

Why didn't you come yesterday?
Something happened?

If I can't visit Rapha,
I won't visit you.

NO STUDENTS.

Who do you have now?

1D.

Germain, are you staying?

More work to do.

Okay.
Until then!

Goodbye!

Ten minutes left!

18!?
18 in math!?

So, you can do it,
if you want to!

- And you, Claude, how much?
- 18-.

Not too bad!

"Our studies have begun to bear fruit,

and Rapha Sr. sees me as
a member of his team. "

Esther!

"The mother of the family came to us out
of the kitchen with a rag in his hand. "

- 18 in Mathematics!
- Excellent!

Esther...

Thank you Claude for helping Rapha.

Claude, will you come
play with on Saturday?

We're playing on Saturdays at
the stadium from six to eight.

The guys are great,
you'll love it!

Basketball...
I do not really...

It doesn't matter how you play!

- Participation matters most!
- Participation matters most!

And then we buy Coke and yell
at the referee! We have fun!

We'll take care of you!

Thanks, but on Saturday
I have stuff to do.

"On Saturday,
I was really busy.

But, seeing how upset Rapha was,
I was pleased to realize

now there was no threat of
losing the title of best friend. "

Well, 14 and 18
- An average of 16.

- What?
- Well done, Rapha!

- See you tomorrow.
- OK.

Everyone in the school is talking

that you're going to Germain after
lessons and sit there with him.

He teaches me literature.

Did he give you the answers
for the math exam?

How did you know?

You be careful with him, he's strange,
and his wife owns a porn shop.

Can you explain me why
we are in his novel?

I do not know,
he lost the thread.

And what's the story
with the math answers?

- I can't believe it!
- What?

- You gave them the answers?
- They were on the table.

Do you realize what you did?
Are you a teacher or a petty thief?

Yes, it's bad, but it was necessary
that Claude continued to help Rapha!

- And write notes of a voyeur?
- So what? I've had enough!

- Germain!
- Yes!

I admit that it was a risk
but who is without sin?

This won't happen again.

Saturday, half past five in the evening.

I'm in the park next to the bench,
on which I spent all last summer.

The path is open.
I ring the doorbell.

Of course,
this is all terribly ironic.

The door opens and she comes out.

Oh, hey, Claude!

Esther, the terribly bored woman.

They went to play basketball.
Should I call them?

No, I just seem to have
forgotten my math book.

Well, come on,
take look.

Finally, alone with Esther.
In this house.

Strange, I do not see it anywhere.

"Well, you bet. Of course,
you can't see it. I have it at home. "

"My mother had the same earrings "

...I said,
pointing to his ear.

"She left when I was nine.
Didn't want to live with my father.

Or with me either,
I guess... »

The words hit the target. The story about
my mom always gets me compassion.

- Would you like something to drink?
- Yeah

Contact was established.

She wanted to protect me.
Be my mother.

She pours me a Coke.

We're talking about Rapha, basketball and
about how she waasn't good at math either. "

I gave birth to Rapha,
and dropped out.

And now he's grown up,
and I want to study architecture.

Or, perhaps,
to be a designer.

I feel good with her.

I felt that she needed to talk.

Time flies,
and I'm already thinking about

seeing her alone again next Saturday.

Curtains, wallpapers, paintings...

- Have you seen our watercolors?
- Yes.

- Beautiful?
- Very.

Come on,
let's go see.

Rettung, Unterbrechung, Hoffnung. "

Scary angels.

Angels?
I didn't even know.

Just like the men,
she doesn't know German.

The watercolours are just
decorations on the wall.

And I'll change the wallpaper,
and the watercolors.

"Rettung means redemption.
Unterbrechung - obstacle.

Hoffnung
- hope.

Zerstorung
- destruction. "

I must go. My husband and
son are coming back soon.

What would they say if they
found me in the house with Esther

Rapha Sr's wife.
and Rapha Jr's mom?

To be continued.

It's all going to end badly.
Mark my words.

- No.
- You'll see!

What if one day they'll be back earlier

and will catch the mother and
the friend together on the couch.

What couch?

He didn't write about a couch.
You're imagining them on the couch.

It does not matter.
Rapha will kill him.

- Father or son?
- Both! They will kill Claude.

You look at everything too seriously.

This is nonsense.
Most of this story is in his imagination.

What are you saying?
He's got imagination too!

Each time, it all becomes more
real and more dangerous.

It's important that Claude
doesn't go in the wrong direction,

but with a good teacher he
will become a real writer.

- Don't make me laugh.
- Why not?

Is he a new Kafka?
A model student from the back row.

You're hopefully not going to publish it?

And why not? This is better than
what is published nowadays.

Well, you know...

Interesting dialogue,
nontrivial situations...

"I explain complex numbers for the
hundredth time, give Rafa a problem

and meanwhile, using the absence of
his parents, carefully inspect the house.

I walk into the parents' bedroom.

The intoxicating scent of a middle
class woman fills the room.

From a screensaver with Rapha,
Sr. some Chinese man smiles at me.

Dolls Ban Dzhan...

Coloring project Jun Jin...

Certificate of ownership...

Rapha's postcards from vacation...

And then suddenly...

X- ray image.

This is the spine.
And, it seems, female. Yes.

This is a woman.

And in the wardrobe seven
pairs of women's shoes.

So, I imagine Esther walking
in the park in these red shoes.

Then I go to the bathroom.

Cologne, Rapha Senior's Dior.
Eau Sauvage!

Blades, cream for stretch
marks, paracetamol...

Xanax!

It's me, dear.

Hi, honey.
How was your day?

- Guess what happened
with the Chinese? - Well?

They made a big deal about the
percentages. And walked out without signing.

Nightmare!

Maurice called me,
took the bill and began yelling at me

because I had chosen such
an expensive restaurant.

He himself told me to make them happy!

And how much was it?

268 euros.

Well, pay it yourself.

It's not about the money. The contract
is finished, the end of everything.

If he had signed it,
the bill wouldn't matter.

And what will you do?

Wait and hope. That everyone forgets
Wong Li and these three hundred euros.

Three hundred?

Well, with the tip!

"To be continued. "

I feel bad for her.

For whom?

Esther.

It's Claude here who's worse off.

Xanax is an antidepressant, right?

And I take lorazepam.
Half of the teachers take pills.

Maybe the husband is taking Xanax?

The husband is just normal.

Obsessed with his stupid job.

And she has nothing.
Husband ignores her, does not notice.

It is strange that Claude still didn't
get into the computer of Rapha Sr.

It seems that deep down he
is interested only in Esther.

The secret of Esther.

Esther is no secret,
it is crystal clear.

Perhaps I am missing a part where
I explain the transformation of the hero.

No, everything is in place.
On the contrary, there is too much.

Too much Esther...
And the X-ray!

Sentimental manipulation.

What's next, Claude, Cancer?

The character of Claude wants
Esther but there are obstacles.

Rapha Sr.
Rapha Jr...

And the key question is:
What will happen next?

So what happens next?
He'll meet Esther in a cheap motel?

No. In the house. Everything
should happen only in the house.

Ok. You've lost the thread.
What are you writing?

Satire on the middle class? Parody
of a romance novel? Bildungsroman?

What?

You speak German.
Zerstörung, Hoffnung?

I asked my father.
He used to live in Berlin.

And he also told me about Paul Klee.

Is that so?

Then, perhaps, he'll also
tell you about Bildungsroman

which is a coming-of-age story.

I thought you'd write instead

a story about growing up
and becoming mature.

But now I don't understand
what you're doing.

Claude, please explain.
What are you thinking?

What ever you said, maestro.

You the Sultan,
and I am Scheherazade.

I never told you to make fun of a
woman who could be your mother!

And do not call me a "maestro"!

Let's go.

Hello, Germain,
how are you?

Fine, thanks.

Well, see you tomorrow.
Take care of yourself.

Goodbye.

Extra classes?
That's.

Sure, a little bit,
The boy needs help.

That's Claude Garcia, right?

Yes.

What do you think
about school uniforms?

pathetic. To tell you the truth,
they are now like a herd.

And that Claude Garcia...

black sheep or a lost lamb?

Oh, hello!
How nice of you to come!

Come in, please!

I found for the next show
a wonderful Chinese artist.

She's very talked about

but there hasn't been an exhibition
of her work in France yet.

She's Chinese?

Yes, but he was born in Los Angeles.

She works in the tradition
of Chinese calligraphy

This is Shanghai Sky 1 and
this one Shanghai Sky 2

Shanghai Sky 3 and Shanghai Sky 4

What's the difference between
Shanghai Sky 2 and Shanghai Sky 3?

There are no two identical
works in the series

Fleeting, barely perceptible, differences
have been made by computer.

And what do they all mean?

To me,
they represent the clouds...

and the horizon.

Yes.
Yes...

- It creates the effect of presence.
- Yes.

Presentation instead of representation.

And now I will show you my favorite
- Shanghai Sky 7. It's a miracle.

Well?

I think,
they loved it.

Your Chinese painter?

Yes. They listened to me,
looked at everything.

And what did they say about it?

Nothing special,
but they seemed interested.

Come to the opening.

Eugénie, I never know which
one said 30 people at most.

I don't want to pressure you.

The weakness of the gallery is not
the paintings but the horrible name.

Minotaur's Labyrinth.
It scares people off, don't you think?

I was invited for dinner to
celebrate Rapha's grade.

The dinner was of course Chinese food.

And the filé was placed on
a "Great Wall of China".

And we didn't quite know
if it was meat or fish.

Turned out to be duck legs.

Germain, my literature
teacher gave me to read

"The Great Wall of China" by Kafka

Rapha says that he's weird.

More like irritable He loves to write,
not teach.

One can do both.

He doesn't have enough talent.
That's why he's bitter.

Bitter?
That doesn't hurt you?

But he's right.

Masochist.

After the news on TV, Rapha Sr.
goes for a smoke on the terrace.

Last summer they often
had dinner on the terrace.

And now I myself am sitting here with
the father and looking at the park.

You know, Claude,
people are afraid of the Chinese.

Really?

But the Chinese are the future.

They have a huge population.

With his son, he talkes only about sports,
cars and basketball.

And with me about everyhing but.

More than a billion.

And it's increasing by 6 million per year.

They used have a one child policy.
But now they breed like cats.

I notice a bum feeding
pigeons and ducks.

If he looked at us now,
he'd think that

I'm Rapha's son.

It's nice that you're helping my son.

I'm bonding with this man?

Yes.
And you wish to take his son's place?

And you provoke jealousy in Rapha Jr.

Who, as a character,
is absolutely devoid of any conflict.

He's having dinner,
in front of the TV.

What does he think,
what does he feel?

You do not know what to do with him.

I will be frank, you totally forgot to
open up the character of the son.

- Do you have kids?
- Why do you ask?

I need to understand the relationship
between the father and the son better.

I have no children,
but I have imagination.

- And you do not want children?
- None of your business.

The most important thing is to
reveal the character of Rapha junior.

"Saturday. Despite the fact that I
wanted to stay in the house with Esther

I decided to talk to the
father and son Rapha.

And here they are
- sweaty in shorts chasing the ball.

I watched them for a long time,
trying to imagine me and my dad

jumping and trying to throw
the ball to the basket.

But, alas.
This I could not imagine.

But they are doing just that.

Every Saturday Rapha Jr and Sr.

rejoice when the ball
goes into the basket,

and grieve when it misses.

Hey, Rapha,
look who's here!

Oh, cool!

Great shot!

So you know how to play?

I look him in the eye and say:

"When my mother left,
my father stopped playing.

And I also.

Come on, Claude,
you're on my team!

You were doing better in the house
Why did you go to the gym?

Now it is like a soap opera.

Want to write for TV?

Enough explaining.
Let the reader figure it out.

I still worry about Rapha junior.

He's just a background for Claude.

And yet, you want to take his place.
It's clear.

Open him up,
show me who he is.

Start with his father,
playing alone,

and finish with Claude
when he tells the son...

"When my mother left,
my father stopped playing.

And I also.

It is a key to the episode.

Slow-paced movement first
and then stun the reader.

And the last paragraph is
absolutely not necessary.

I do not understand. If you know how
to write, why don't you write yourself?

To be honest,
I tried many years ago.

Nothing outstanding.
Like you, though.

But you have potential. Talent.
Try hard, and you'll become a writer.

Simple heart.
Gustave Flaubert.

So, I asked to write an essay
"Portrait of my friend. "

Who will read their essay?

Who can read their text?

As usual, no volunteers.
Then I will choose.

So...

Mr. Rafael Artole

Come and read us your essay.
Come on, Rafael.

My best friend...

Louder, please - My best friend
- Claude Garcia.

Last year, I didn't know him,
we were in different classes.

But this year math made us friends.

He helps me understand
it and solve problems.

"Mathematics"

Stop it!
Quiet, please.

I invited him to play basketball
with me and my dad.

but he doesn't like sports.

I respect Claude. In sports you
must respect your opponent.

Can't you read faster?
Quiet, please.

Earlier, my best friend was my dad.

But now I understand, that mom was
right when she said that it's weird.

How jealous!

Last Saturday,
Claude came to play basketball after all.

And then I realized that...

he is my best friend...

Silence.
Please.

Now rewrite it all on board,
we will correct.

- I felt like crap.
- Forget this idiot, concentrate!

Is this a complex number?

Probably.

How can it be a complex number,

if it is on the plane,
not on the axis?

He humiliated me in front of everyone.

He seems upset.

You should not do this to him.

I just corrected his errors.

We had to stop when
everyone started to laugh.

I want him to feel just as bad as me.

I want to kick his ass.
Kick his ass and burn his car!

He doesn't have one.

I don't drive.
The wife has a car.

God, I'll kick his ass.

You can think of something
more interesting. What?

Write in the school newspaper.
Describe how it all was.

Is it you who advised him to
criticize me in "The Torch"?

And why not?
I must reveal the character of Rapha.

I never attack the independence of "The
Torch" with its photos from school trips.

speeches in honor of retired teachers,

and sentimental verses by students?

No way!
I'm not going to censor it!

Maybe just talk to Rapha?

But he does not know that I know.

This article doesn't exist for me yet.

Raphael, come here, please.
I need to tell you something.

- Goodbye, sir.
- Goodbye.

He wanted to talk, but said nothing.
Only gave me a book.

Robert Musil The
Confusions of Young Torless

Don't scribble, bend pages,
or break the cover.

Maybe we will not publish this article?

Why?

With this book,
he seemed to apologize.

No, we definately will.

Good afternoon.

Hello

"I did not sleep for almost a
week trying to understand,

why Monsieur Germain humiliated
me in front of the class,

forced to read my essay
to laughing classmates?

After all,
he told us to write about our best friends.

But this was not enough.

He forced me to re-write
my essay on the board,

to supposedly fix the problems.

But as I was writing, Monsieur Germain
almost like stripped me naked.

Yes.
Just like that.

He began to scrutinize my sentences,
one by one,

until the board became
completely naked. "

I decided to tell you all this so that he'd
never humiliate anyone that way again.

and that the next time I go to the board,

I wouldn't crumble up in fear.

Rafael Artole

- He has a reason to hate you.
Why?

You really stripped him
naked for all to see!

Took off his shirt, pants, underwear...

I just called a spade a spade.
Worthless essays have to be corrected.

But the article is well written, reasonably.
Talented boy.

I am sure that Claude wrote it.

What did the principal say?

This is a fatal error.

You know the new rules:

teacher must place the
student in the heart of...

Knowledge...
I remember.

Not a pupil,
but a student.

Do not punish a pupil...

Sorry, a student...

and gently lead him
with encouragements.

Instead of the red pen
- green.

After all red is the color of alarm.

I know all this new stuff by heart.

Could you not repeat it.

The boy wrote that you
sort of stripped him naked.

Are you kidding me? Seriously!
Considering this idiotic uniform!

Tell me one thing.
Why did you humiliate this boy?

I did not humiliate him.
I just corrected his mistakes.

That's what you pay me for!
In this school...!

Keep in mind,
as the principal,

I have to inform the inspector
of the school board.

Come in.

Monsieur Artole.
Good afternoon.

Have a seat.

It's about my son's article
in the school newspaper.

Do not worry,
it's already forgotten.

Rapha didn't tell me.
But acted strangely.

When I read it,
I was shocked.

Listen.
I'm just doing my job...

I'm a French teacher.

In politics, sports and life in general
only one thing is important. Respect.

Respect for students, partners,
superiors, subordinates, workers!

I understand,
but you don't need to worry so much.

because of such a tiny
embarrassing episode.

You must not dramatize,
it's just kids...

Education is teamwork.

Exchange of information. The division
of responsibilities and powers.

Yes. We pass each other
the ball and score a goal.

You publicly humiliated my son,
Monsieur Germain.

My son deserves your respect.
I demand a public apology.

- I'm so glad everyone likes it.
- Any buyers?

- Not yet, but it will definitely be a hit.
- Good for you, dear.

- Did you see the twins?
- How do I recognize them?

They are twins. If only they came
in and found all these people.

I can't believe it!
What can't you believe?

- That one couple.
- Which one?

It's Rapha's parents.

Are you crazy!
Them?

Yes.

They're not like I had imagined.

And she's pretty.
You've seen them before?

His father came to my school.

Let's go meet them.

No, no, no, wait!
By no means!

Why?
- What are they doing here?

The middle class is interested in art.
He is interested in China.

He is interested in cheap labor.
That's it, I'm going home.

- Already? Why?
- I have to get up early tomorrow.

Wait for the twins.

How was it?

- They did not arrive.
- And parents of Rapha?

Left almost immediately after you.

- Did you talk to them?
- No.

- What did they do there?
- I do not care about them!

That was my show, Germain.
And the twins did not arrive.

They will sell the gallery and kick me out.
And you only have this family in your head!

- Well, I'm sorry.
- Again, the hypocrisy!

I invited them.

The Raphas?

Yes.
I sent them an invitation.

I wanted to see them.
Thought you'd be pleased.

And, as usual,
I was wrong.

They are fictional characters, Jeanne.

I do not want to see them in your gallery.

And I'm also fictional?

Well, of course not.
Come here. Of course not.

What are you doing?
It's late.

I've got some difficult problems.

Claude, spend the night with us,
if you want.

Okay.

Will you call home?

No, not necessary.

It was closing midnight but the
math problems still weren't done.

And I was going to sleep at
Rapha's house for the first time.

My auntie sleeps here at Christmas.

The room was weird.

And I suddenly thought:

Now I'm at the heart of
the family's personal life.

They are mom's childhood toys.
She's saved them up to now.

Without hands, legs and eyes. All of
Esther's dolls were crippled. Poor things.

- You can sleep here.
- Okay.

Thanks for helping me with the article.
You helped me so much.

Rapha lent me one of his
shirts to use as pajamas.

It was too big for me
and he laughed at me.

You're a real friend.

You know how I feel?

I'm like those guys who
burned cars and looted stores,

I'm going crazy!

«Rapha went to his room.

And I didn't sleep a wink.

I was overcome by a strange feeling,
and I could not help thinking:

"Is it true that all children have
nightmares when there's a thunderstorm?"

"I was feeling my way in the corridor
while my eyes weren't used to the dark.

Then I went into the
room of my best friend.

Rapha slept soundly, but was
making strange movements in sleep.

What did he dream of?
Who is he dreaming of? "

Well written.

The hero comes to the sleeping house,
like an angel or a demon.

Very well written.
But it's implausible.

But it's true.

It does not matter if the
reader doesn't believe.

And what's with Rapha's strange kiss?

Hidden desire to have a normal family?

Father, mother, son...
That's Pasolini?

I have developed a personality for Rapha,
I thought you'd like it.

You think I'd like it when two guys kiss?

I don't know.

Forget about my wishes.
What excites you personally?

"She smiles.
Her skin is like snow.

- And her feet
- as small as a child's.

I sat and watched them sleep,

and suddenly I imagined
them an hour earlier

how they make love, clumsily, hastily.

Rapha is still thinking about
his work and his Chinese,

and Esther with a blank stare,
from which desire has died long ago.

Maybe my mother too was faking in bed,
and that's why she left?

Why did she leave us with dad?

To stop pretending and start living?

Oh, dear!

I was overcome with a strange feeling,
and I could not help thinking:

"Is it true that all children want to

climb into bed with parents
there's a storm at night?

To be continued.

They had sex in front of him?

No, he was imagining it.

At his age, such fantasies are normal.
This is completely innocent.

Germain, are you attracted to Claude?

What are you saying?

Since you started talking to him,

We haven't had sex.

Yes?

Don't be afraid.
Teachers often fall in love with students.

He's a boy, Jeanne.
I love women.

Maybe with age you have
developed new desires.

He's sixteen years old.
The boy just interests me.

He has talent. It's rare.
And I'm trying to help him.

"Once again we are looking at the park together.
Esther is eating an apple and looking at the sky. "

I love autumn.

The landscape reminds me of a painting
by a Chinese painter that I saw.

So simple and beautiful.
Sky with a thousand shades.

"Today, the park is not
the same as always.

I remember that on Saturdays after
dinner my mother brought me here

To play on the swings and slides.

And now there's drug traffic here,

and old people do Tai Chi.

See that bench?
In the summer I often saw you there.

- Do you love this park? Yes.
I like that it's close to the house.

You sit down and watch.
And around you it's full of life.

I immediately fell in love with this house.

It seems to be in the center, but it's
surrounded by nature. Sky, park...

"I looked at Esther.
Her skin looked so soft.

Like the skin of an apple.
So tasty. "

What is it?

My back hurts. Had surgery,
but it still hurts.

I used to jog here with Rapha.

Now I can not.
And I can not dance.

"And in light of the dying day,
I imagined

how she dances, barefoot,
on yellow autumn leaves!".

"On yellow autumn leaves!"

What are you, high?

Apple, is it a symbol,
or just an apple?

"Barefoot", "yellow leaves"...

- The catalog of contemporary paintings!
What?

Never seen it?
I'll show you.

"Paintings of Feng Tang.

What we see in the
paintings of Feng Tang?

Silence, born somewhere
between the east and the west.

Silence, overcoming the noise of the
modern world, deafening roar of time.

Endless game of our perception...

etc.
etc. "

These catalogs just
rape and defile words.

Just to sell.
Here, look!

The same disgusting stuff.
Art for perverts.

They call it art, but for me
- this is just shit.

And you said that to your wife?

Of course.

"... I imagined how she dances, barefoot,
on yellow autumn leaves!".

This is not the right approach,
and you know it.

And I haven't yet told you how after
dinner we went to one more place.

And Wong Li went totally nuts.

Got drunk and started hitting on a girl.
I barely rescued him.

Or they would've kicked his ass.

Now he's saying that I disrespected him.

- Hang on. You've been there before?
- Never. But you must please the client.

Some people like museums, others
- football, and others...

are just pigs.

You took him to a bar with hookers?

Nothing of the kind!
It's a bar with women.

Bar with women?
I see.

Yes, I've never been there before,
I don't go to places like that.

Maurice goes, regularly.
But that's him. I don't.

I went just for the sake of business.

That is to say you were just working, did
not drink and did not dance with the girls?

I had two drinks,
to be polite.

I do not believe you.

- Oh honey...
- Do not touch me! You're disgusting.

I'm sick of it, Esther.

Always the same thing,
you never believe me.

Here's my chance.
I can feel it.

But somehow,
for the first time in my life I'm scared. "

This is for you.

I have not slept all night.

"Even barefoot, rain is not going
to dance. " What does it mean?

Nothing. Try to feel it.
It means what your emotions tell you.

You're helping my son,
he loves you.

And my husband loves you.

And what if they read it?

I wrote it not for them,
but for you.

The rest I understood.
But the phrase about the rain...

I do not understand it.

"Even barefoot,
rain is not going to dance. "

Oh, you sly bastard.
Gave her a poem?

Yes, I dedicated a poem to her.

Good job. Nobody ever wrote
poetry to her. She's a clean slate.

In this house there is no poetry.

Throw her a couple of lines and a
metaphor, and it'll be like an atomic bomb.

Now I see her differently.

I see. Our young rebel fell in
love with the middle class.

You said yourself,
look without judgement.

And I'm looking.
I'll get Esther out of that house.

Her manner of speech
no longer irritates you

her smell,
her love for redecorating?

You'll go to work,
take a loan and buy her a tent?

The rest I understood.
But the phrase about the rain...

"Even barefoot,
rain is not going to dance. "

Just what we needed!

What is this, a bad soap opera?
This is ridiculous.

You're wrong, Claude.

You said yourself:
listen to your desires.

I like to kiss her.

To be continued.

Well.
What do you say?

It looks like a bag.

It is a bag.
Hand made out of tires.

It's fair trade. And they make backpacks,
blankets and wallets.

Not bad.
Well done.

This is also from China?

Oh, no!
Out of Africa!

Beautiful, they'll sell.

According to you, I'm trying to
make my gallery into a bazaar?

"The sun was setting, and its rays were
gently caressing her legs and neck.

Esther, Esther...

The woman who was awfully bored,
fell asleep on the couch.

I watched her sleep,
listening to her breathing,

and again felt how
strongly I'm drawn to her".

What is it?

I'll go look.

«Rapha...

Why did I chose you?

I thought you were different.
That you're normal.

Then why did you do it?
Because of the kiss? "

- Good morning, sir!
- Good morning...

- Rafael Artole here?
- No, sir.

- Claude, do you know where he is?
- No, sir, I don't know.

Really?
- Yes, sir.

I'll be back.

- Anouk!
- What happened?

Have Artole's parents
called about their son?

- No.
What's going on here?

Hello? Hello, ma'am.
This Anouk Meyer from school.

Your son is not at school.
Something wrong with him?

Yes.
Yes.

Yes.
Thank you.

Goodbye, ma'am.

- Well?
- Flu.

The lesson is over.
You're dismissed.

But there is still time.

I don't care. The lesson is canceled.
Claude, hold on a minute.

I knew that you do not like suicide.
I changed the ending.

You've gone too far.

You enter the house, get the son out
of the way, seduce the mother...

you confused desire with fiction.

So what?
You taught me that.

If someone from school or the
Artoles find out, you're in trouble.

And I am too.

Should I stop?

Yes.

It's too late already.
You forced me...

The lesson is over. Sorry, Claude,
apparently I was wrong.

I remember my first day at school.

I wanted to throw out all the
textbooks and just run away.

You gave us an assignment.
And you gave me a 17.

And now I can not stop.

You can not?
Well then write!

Write about yourself,
your family, or whatever.

But forget about Artoles.

But I love these characters,
you yourself have taught me this.

I do not want to stop.

Then I won't read.

Freak.

We need to talk.

Maurice reminded me again
about Wong Li's unpaid bill.

He humiliated me.
Is respect not important anymore?

Yes Rapha.

- Esther...
- Yes?

I burned his car.

Whose?

Maurice's.

Why?

I don't know. Something
happened inside me, I don't know!

I can't go on with this job anymore.

Anyone see you?

I don't know.

Sorry, I know what you're going to say.

Please, give me one more chance.
Please.

I have news too.

What?

I am pregnant.

Great!
Why didn't you tell me?

I wanted to make sure.

I love you.

Rapha?
You feel better?

I wanted to ask you something.

About what?

I need a math tutor.

And what about Claude?

I do not want to see him again.

And they smiled at each other. The normal
family is back together once again. "

Come here.

For a year I dreamed about
going into this house. And I did.

And carefully studied the normal family.

And even wanted to be one of them.

But now there is no place
in this house for me.

To be continued.

What happened?

You know what happens when
a man betrays his team?

No, I don't.

If someone offends a member
of my team, I kick his ass.

- My dad's on my team.
- So what?

And my mom...

Although she doesn't play basketball,
she is untouchable.

Yes?

And if some idiot touches her,
I'll bust his face, and his father's also.

And one stupid asshole kissed this idiot.
What, you forgot?

I thought about it.

Happy reunion of a normal family
- it's impossible.

You have to finish the novel.

I do not write anymore.

You don't visit their home anymore?

You said I'd be in trouble.
Now I am alone.

There's only mathematics.
It doesn't betray me.

Option A:
Husband and son kill Claude.

Option B: Claude kills them himself
and lives with Esther in the house.

Option C: Esther burns down
the house and all three guys.

Choose any finale and write it yourself.

I can not. It's not my novel.
I do not make the decisions.

You know the secret of
a spectacular finale?

The reader has to say:

"I did not expect that, but any other
ending would've been impossible. "

Option D: Esther repeats the phrase "Even
barefoot, rain is not going to dance. "

Her life in this house with her horrible
husband and stupid son is unbearable.

It makes no sense.
She gasps.

Esther goes to the terrace. And sees
him on the park bench. He's waiting .

She runs to him.
Sits. And they kiss.

It's Barbara Cartland

- Hello, Claude.
- Hello.

I knew you'd come.
I was waiting for you.

Here, take your poems.

Do not want to throw them away.

I came for you.
I want to take you away from here.

What?

Yes. You and me. We'll get out of town,
out of the house, from both Raphas.

Impossible.
Why?

You're a child, Claude. What was
between us was an illusion. Forget it.

- It was...
- A miracle!

So be it.
But it was a ghost.

We hurt Rapha.

- Which one?
- Both.

I do not want to hurt anyone.

No, Claude.
Stop.

But I love you.

No.

You don't love me.

But a character.

The character in your head.

I'm going,
I need to gather my things.

You're leaving?

Yes.

What about the renovation,
the veranda?

Rapha quit, we're going to China.
He has a partner there.

We'll see what happens.
We are starting a new life.

Come on.
Don't be sad.

Goodbye, Claude.
Take care of yourself.

Esther!

I need them.

Today is a special day.

I got up at six forty-five,
as always.

And as always,
cooked breakfast for father.

And as always,
left the house at eight o'clock.

Today is Wednesday.

English at nine,
history at ten

At eleven French,
then math

But today everything will be different.

I'm not going to school
or to Rapha's house.

I'll look for the finale of the novel.

That Mr. Germaine asked for.
My teacher.

Rapha...

you felt humiliated,
but it was just an emotion.

You're young, you'll learn.
You're like the reed in Lafontaine's fable.

You bend but don't break.
Do you remember?

The Oak once asked the Reed:

You're so weak that you can hardly stand
up straight in the weakest of winds.

...and in the end... On the Wings
of the North rushed a hurricane

His impact broke down the Oak.

The Reed ducked.
Hurricane did not hurt him.

Doubling the power of their...

Yes?

Sit down.

Come in, please,
to my office.

- Right now?
Yes.

- Claude Garcia here?
- No.

And Rafael Artole?

You too, please.

"There she is. With a tired face.
She has no children.

I know her husband.

He believes in the gallery she
shows crap and art for perverts.

- You're Claude, right?
- Yes.

She measures me with her gaze.
She imagined I was different?

Why are not you in school?

I decided to leave.

And what will you do?

A lot of people are bad at math.
I will give private lessons.

Are you sure?

Yes.
Or write art catalogs.

Teacher says I'm good at it.

Yes, I know.
Rich imagination.

Can I come in?

Germain's not here.

I know.

A nightmare!
Complete nonsense. Bastards!

Claude wasn't at school today?

How do you know?

He was here!

Did you let him in?

Only for the chosen few.

So, here I am,
at his home.

Going somewhere?

"No, I just brought your husbands books.
The gallery was closed. "

And I began to unpack the books.

They need to be put
on the shelf for ages.

And, Tolstoy.
I hate Russians.

From "Anna Karenina" I read
the first page and the last.

"Suddenly, I noticed a curious book.

I take it. Joan smiles.
"Children of the Storm".

Yes, it is written by Germain,
twenty years ago.

He did not tell you?

- No.
And what is it about?

Banal love story.
Nothing special.

And not much compared
to his favorite authors.

Too bad.

Sobriety is one of the
rare virtues of Germain.

You're similar,
but you have talent.

She's not like Esther,
but no less desirable.

Take it.

"She invites me to dinner.

We're talk about the gallery,
mathematics, our friendship with Germain,

about her favorite books...

And then all of a sudden... "

Esther will never leave Rapha.

They're having difficult times,
but there is a strong connection.

Yes. They love each other and
are expecting a second child.

I didn't know.

Why don't you and Germaine have kids?

Somehow there was no
time to think about it.

I have my work...

He has his books

By the way,
I thought maybe,he reaches out to you,

because he wants to be a father,
have a son?

Yes, he wanted a son.

He said that?

He said that you could not have children,
because you are infertile.

- He said that?
Yes.

Yes?
Who?

No.

Well...

Goodbye.

Germain has just been
fired from the school.

Why?

Rapha told all about the math test.

"Ever since I met Monsieur Germain,

I wanted to see how he lives,
what his house is like,

who's his wife, what she was doing,
if they have children,

Do they still love each other?

Jeanne...

Jeanne...

The wife of Monsieur Germain
lies in front of me on the couch.

She sleeps.
And I listen to her breathing.

Her skirt is riding up. I can see
her skin is the color of alabaster.

She has beautiful legs.
Like Esther.

What am I doing here?

While my teacher's wife
is sleeping next to me,

arousing the desire of the
student from the last row...

I'm looking for the finale.
My finale.

Maybe I'll find it here.
In his house. "

- What are you doing?
- Gathering my stuff.

- You're leaving? Yes.
The Gallery is finisher, and we are too.

- Where are you going?
I don't know. To mom.

Are you crazy? Today?
When I got fired?

Germain, I'm almost Esther,
but you are not Rapha,

and Claude will not be your son!

What are you talking about?

You slept with him?

To be continued.

You slept with him?
Look at me, bitch!

Germain, you're crazy!

He fucked you!

"Journey to the End of the Night. "
Louis-Ferdinand Céline

Hello, Claude.

Hello.
How are you?

Better.

Can I sit down?
- Of course.

Well, found your ending?

No, I stopped writing.
I brought your book.

Your wife gave it to me.

Throw it away.
It's rubbish.

But I liked it.
About love.

Then keep it.

You can see so many windows
and people from here!

Yes, very many.

As I was sitting in the park near Rapha,
I was like a spectator in the front row.

Sat and thought.

How do people live in these houses?

Here's an example...

These two women.
What do they do?

You do not know them?

No.

They seem to be fighting.

Perhaps sisters.
Having a fight about the inheritance.

Two lesbians disagree.

No, the two sisters arguing
about the family mansion.

One wants to sell,
and one is against it.

Two lesbians. Their love was over, when the
blonde had a crush on the rheumatologist.

Brunette says,
"I introduced you two!"

Look at her hands.
"I introduced you!"

"Now I understand why you always
went to see him without me. "

"By no means!
You can not sell this house. "

"Father fought for it for so many years. "

Do you want them to be twins?

Not really.

First floor,
the door on the right.

Stop it, Claude. It is unlikely that
they need lessons in mathematics.

But there is something they need.

There is always a way to get inside,
a way to get into any home.

You'll help me?

Monsieur Germain lost everything.
Wife, work. But I was there.

And ready to tell him a new story.

To be continued.