01x05 - Episode 5

[bunniefuu]

♪ Remember your name ♪

♪ Remember your name ♪

♪ Remember your name ♪

♪ Let me introduce you ♪

♪ Let me ♪

♪ Come on ♪

♪ This is my domain
It's my life, I make my own name ♪

♪ Maybe it's changed ♪

♪ Testing, testing ♪

♪ A way to remember your name ♪

You scared me, Romane.
What are you doing here?

Repeat after me, would you?

"Romane, you are my goddess,

and I'll be in your debt
until the end of my days."

- Romane, you are...
- My goddess.

My goddess.

- And...
- And...

I'll be in...

I'll be in your debt
until the end of my days. What's up?

This is the big cassette
that you put the little cassettes in.

so that we can watch your dad's videos.

Well, it's very nice of you
to come and see us.

- Aren't your parents here?
- No, they went out.

- At the same time?
- Mm.

Well.

Well, I'm sorry, munchkin,
but I couldn't find it.

I must have sold it at the flea market.

But you know, VCRs have gone out of style.
You should know that, at your age.

Huh.

Now, we've got Blu-ray.

You must be kidding. We never use it.
Your grandpa can't get the player to work.

Oh, of course I can.

No, no.
You don't know, and that's that.

Can I sleep here with you tonight?

Well,
we don't use Stéphane's room much.

You don't say. I'm back in time too now.

There we are.
So, shall I make you some tea?

No, that's okay. Thanks, Grandma.
We're going to bed.

- Good night, darlings.
- Good night.

I would've quite liked some tea.

I've got something better.

Ta-da! My grandpa's plum brandy.

38 degrees, ten years old.
Drink two mouthfuls, and you're done.

Ah!

Whoo!

Yeah!

Come on! Seriously,
I'm rocking this look, huh?

- Like a Vietnam w*r vet.
- Oh! You bitch! 2

Hey, your old man was cute. Look!

- Mm.
- How could you suspect him?

- He doesn't look like a m*rder*r at all.
- Murderers have a look these days?

They all have buck teeth,
a big belly and a monobrow?

Anyway, Ismaël didn't need
anyone else to k*ll him.

Apart from my mom, maybe,
who pushed him too far.

But that's all.

- But I'm gonna stop him. I'll talk to him.
- Mm-hmm.

It's not that easy to help the ones
that you love.

They kind of have to want it too.

Mm.

- Don't move, girl. This is perfect.
- What are you doing?

- Are you filming me?
- Yeah.

I wanna know
what happens when you time travel.

It'll probably end up being a sex tape.

It'll be so awkward hearing you moaning,
getting funky under the duvet.

Or even worse. Imagine waking up here,
but in your dad's body.

- Ugh!
- Oh my God.

That really would be too Oedipal.

- No, that's messed up!
- It's disgusting.

No, I think I'm good.

- I've gotten steamy enough.
- I hear you.

Jerking off,
premature ejaculation, pregnancy...

You've paid your dues. That's true.

There.

Actually,
it would be good if I were my dad.

That way, I'd be close to you, Ismaël.

And I'd convince you to stay alive.

Oh f*ck.

I haven't paid all my dues, it seems.

Oh, that's disgusting.
I think I'm gonna throw up.

The record shop lady?

f*ck, I'm a hundred years old.

She's actually really hot for an old lady.

How can I go to school?

I can't go like this.

This is gonna be tough.

JUNE 19 1991

Patricia!

Patricia!

Hey, Patricia.

What do I do? Do I throw myself
into her arms or insult her?

I'm here for...

You know, the special order.

Uh...

I didn't get the delivery yet.

Huh?

Yesterday, you said
you'd received the candies.

Absolutely. Candy, right.

- Right.
- Mm.

Yeah.

Okay. Candy...

Candy... What candy?

I don't know what I've done with them.

Patricia. Don't you wanna
check the secret hiding place?

Patricia.

The secret hiding place.

- Nice.
- Oh, um... You said, uh, candies...

Do you want several?
Because I only found one.

Uh, hello?

Hello, Patricia.
You haven't called me back.

What amps are we using for the concert
on Saturday night? 500 watts?

A thousand?

Sweet.

- Hello?
- Is it MDMA?

Excuse me?

Anyway, listen,
thanks so much for helping us out.

Here.

I thought it was Pye
that gave you the dr*gs, but it wasn't.

It was her.

f*ck. Every time, it's always her!

I have to go,
but thanks again, Patricia. Really.

Uh, hold on.

Could you tell Ismaël
to come by and see me? I, uh...

It's so we can talk.
About the concert. And His future.

Sure, I'll try, but to be honest,
it's a bit, uh, complicated with Ismaël

Please hold a minute. Hey, wait!

You know, I'm not... I...

I'm not sure about all this candy stuff,
you know?

- Can we talk about it?
- Patricia, don't worry.

We know acid is stronger than weed.
It's not a problem.

We're gonna take it in the right
conditions, after the concert. Promise.

Give me back the acid. Now, Karine.

- What?
- Give it back.

Hold on, uh...

I just...
Didn't we both agree on 200 bucks?

Uh... Wait! Karine!

Miss, uh,

Patricia Roche.

I'm so done.

You leave me no choice, Ms. Roche.
You don't answer our certified letters.

You haven't paid your rent
in three months.

Okay, listen. I'll give you a week, okay,
to pay everything back.

If you don't wanna be repossessed,
that is.

Yes, of course, sir. I'm so sorry.

Uh-huh.

- Yes, hello?
- Ms. Roche.

Are you planning
on avoiding me much longer?

No, I'm not.

I feel like I'm dying.
No getting drunk after 30.

And anyway, what do I care about
Patricia's problems? I wanna sleep!

I won't manage anything in this body.

Patricia?

Thanks for putting me up.

Uh, I... I really didn't know where to go.

Here, let me.

What's going on?

I left home.

And I'm on my own.

Listen, I...
I know it's hard to understand, but...

right now, I just feel so bad.

I... I just feel like
there's nothing to keep... to keep me here.

No, don't say that.

I do understand.

But what about Paris, your music?
Those are cool plans, right?

No, I'm not going. Not anymore.

What are you so scared of?
You're really talented.

You don't need anyone.

Patricia.

Honestly, talent's not enough.

I mean...

I don't know, I need confidence as well.

And that, for me...

I really don't have any.

And then, wherever I go,
there will always be bastards like Pye

to remind me that I'm worthless.

And they'll prove my dad right.

- I think that's what scares me the most.
- I'm sorry, but you're wrong.

No, you're not scared of him being right.
You're scared of doing better than him.

Of betraying him.

So you do what he expects
and you just roll over.

You know, my parents are small people too.

They put up with life.

The atmosphere
is really oppressive at home.

I mean, it used to be.

My parents have never really had
any problems,

but that hasn't made them happy.

They don't make me want to get older.

You never told me about that.

I thought they'd contaminated me
with their sadness.

But that's over.

I think I'm just angry now.

And that's better.

Like a rage for life,
rather than lust for life, huh?

Yeah, maybe you're right.

I know all about rage, anyway.

Promise me you'll remember
if times get tough.

Promise me you'll never let yourself
be tempted to end it all.

Hmm?

Thank you.

For... for taking the time to listen to me.

And everything. It's really nice of you.

I...

I don't know,
it's like you're not your normal self.

For the first time,

it feels like...

you can really see me.

You're beautiful.

I have to tidy up.

Oh yeah?

I'd give anything
for you to kiss me.

Kiss me.

Am I taking this too far?

Are you okay?
You usually can't keep your hands off me.

Would you be attracted
to the real Léa?

I've never wanted you more.

It's me!

It's me, Isma.

That wasn't the same
as usual, either.

- Wasn't it as good?
- No, it's not that at all.

I mean, it's always good, right?
But it was like

all our movements
were happening of their own accord.

As if, I don't know,

we were one body.

Okay, it sounds
so stupid said like that,

but...

Wow.

I felt more in two hours
than in my whole entire life.

- Oh, that's strong!
- Yeah, you're right.

About what?

I gotta stop rolling over.

I'm gonna settle the score
with that bastard once and for all.

You have to help me. Okay?

You have to call Pye's dad and tell him
it was his son who was dealing.

Can you do that?

Uh, no, I can't do that.

Because if you do that,
you'll just get in more trouble with Pye.

I don't give a f*ck about Pye.

You know what?
He can do whatever he likes.

But I won't let myself be walked over.

Uh, you know, when...

when I was talking about anger,
I... I didn't mean v*olence.

Okay, thanks, Patricia, but you're not
in a position to lecture me about that.

Why do you say that?

I'm sorry, but you...
you didn't hesitate to go all the way.

- I don't understand.
- Stop it. You told me.

What?

Told you what?

What have I done?

You know what?

You're like all the others.
You only think about yourself.

What's a quick phone call to tell
the truth compared to what you did?

Ismaël!

Oh, my head!

f*ck, I shouldn't have smoked.

Well, nothing to report.
You changing bodies is really boring.

Well, you do snore like a piglet,
and you're really restless,

but apart from that...

Oh, come on, Léa. Don't get angry.

I think I found the g*n.

We have to find Patricia.

JUNE 19 2021

And why would your record-store lady
have a g*n hidden in her house?

I don't know, girl. I don't know why.

- She's crazy anyway.
- Yeah.

But Ismaël definitely knew
the g*n was there.

So he could have taken it to k*ll himself.

Oh f*ck, it's Dora.

"Are you free for a coffee at 6:00?"

Okay. So, um...

Girl, that's it.

Ismaël's song isn't for my mom at all.

He wrote the song for Patricia.

That's why he says in the song,

"I'm not allowed to need you,
I'm not allowed to want you."

It's because of the age gap. That's why.

The 40-year age gap.
That's why he wrote that. It's for her.

Ah.

Oh.

Did you learn his notebook by heart?

No, of course not.
I just learned the song.

No, because, Léa, this is too much.

And, um...

How do you know
this Patricia is banging Ismaël?

What did you do?

I slept with Ismaël yesterday.

Okay.

Hey!

So, how's the big cassette?

It's great.

We just need the big VCR to go with it.

- Have you guys come to pick up a parcel?
- No, actually.

We wanted to see
if you know of a Patricia Roche?

- She used to run this store in the '90s.
- Yeah, I know of her, sure.

But I don't know anything about her.
We never met.

- But you took over the store from her.
- Sure did.

But she skipped town overnight,
abandoning the store.

Yeah, the lights were on, David Bowie
blasting over the record player.

But she didn't leave an address either.
She hadn't paid her rent in months.

- How do you know all that?
- Thanks to Mr. Vernet.

The previous owner.
He just sold me the store.

Where can I find Mr. Vernet?

At his usual haunt. The police station.

I know this old guy. He was there
back when I got caught doing graffiti.

If he's the owner, we're f*cked.
Because that guy is completely cuckoo.

Come on.

Come on, my little ones.

There!

Mr. Vernet?

Uh...

- Oh.
- Morning.

Oh!

Ah!

My daughter!

Oh, what a pleasure!

Ah!

You haven't changed.

Yeah.

Have you come to feed the birdies with me?

Well, not really, no.

We're looking for Patricia Roche.
Do you remember her or not?

- Patricia?
- That's right.

You have a pretty name, young lady.

But

I think I get the impression

that we've met before.

Your name rings a bell.

Oh yes!

The crazy lady who rented my store!

The, uh... record dealer!

Goodness!

Uh, yes. Yes, that's right. That's me.

It's not the bailiffs I should have sent
round to you, but the police!

The police!

Officer!

Well, you'll get what's coming to you.

You think I didn't know
about the Dauriac affair. Hmm?

- Wait. What affair?
- And what are you doing here, anyway?

Are you not with
your little survivalist friends?

You really think I don't know that
you are hiding out in their black spot?

Here, listen to this.
"Daniel Dauriac,

lead singer of Deep Mantra,
was found sh*t to death,

in 1972 during a concert in Brighton."

"His young wife, Patricia Dauriac,
was accused

and then released by the English
authorities due to lack of evidence."

"The case has never been solved."

Roche was her maiden name.

That's what Ismaël was talking about.

- So Ismaël knew about that?
- Yes!

- And he fell out with Patricia?
- Right.

Well, she must have sh*t him then.

- We're still gonna go to that black spot.
- Uh, hello?

We're not gonna jump into the arms
of that psycho when we can ask the cops.

No, seriously.
They can deal with the black spot.

I'm not going back to the cops.
They already know me.

- They'd just blame my parents.
- Mm-hmm.

And my date?

Dora? You don't care about my stuff?

I'm going on my date at 6:00. Period.

Hey, let's hitchhike there.

- That way, you'll be back by 6:00 p.m.
- Hitchhike there?

Do you want us to end up in little pieces
by the side of the road or what?

It's gonna be such a hassle.

Either way, I'm going.

You don't believe anything I'm telling you
anyway, so it doesn't matter.

Go on your date and we'll meet up later.
I'll fill you in.

One thing I do believe is that article.

- Léa, it's gonna be super dangerous!
- Sure is!

This plan of yours
is really embarrassing.

Do you know her?

I don't know. It looks like Sandra.

- Who? The bitch?
- She's not a bitch.

And anyway, it's not her.

It's not her,
they have very different noses.

Well, she could've had a nose job.

She's totally a chick
who'd have plastic surgery.

You can tell.

f*ck, come on! This is impossible!

Seriously? Thirty years later,
and same old assholes.

- Do I have to show my boobs or what?
- Hey, calm down.

Let me do it.

Desperate times
call for desperate measures.

There.

Thanks a lot.

Sandra?

♪ You think I look good
Well, I think you ♪

♪ Look good too... ♪

Well, then?

What about you and Ismaël?
What was it like?

It was great.

I don't know how to explain it,
but it was a bit like...

like our movements were happening
all at the same time.

It was as if we were one body.

Wow. Impressive.

Well, you're a real pro now.

- A pro what?
- A sex pro.

Idiot.

Of course you are, girl.
You're crazy for ass!

Men, women. You swing both ways now.

It's true, right?

But nothing's up with my own body. Hmm.

I think my hymen
may have grown back by now

Anyway, this Patricia, she's more
than a cougar now. She's a snow leopard.

- Come on.
- She could be his mother.

Besides, isn't Ismaël underage?

Yeah.

Hmm.

Hello.

Excuse me.
We're looking for Patricia Roche.

She must be in her early seventies by now.

She, uh, probably has very long hair, and

she has tattoos.

That must be Méroé.
She lives at the end of that track.

Méroé?

I think that's it.

Méroé. What kind of sh*t name is this?

I don't know.

Are you okay?

No one's here.

f*ck me.

I don't believe it.

Would you have anything to drink?
We'd just like to rest a while.

There's no signal here.

Uh, sorry, but

what is this?

Anyway, this place is really incredible.

What made you want to...

to... to live here, like this?

Silence was calling to me.

I don't think I feel very well.

- Are you okay?
- No, I'm not.

That's the effect of my drink.

If one has an immune system
that's too fragile,

it can bring about...

vital distress.

Vital distress?

- What the f*ck has she given us?
- Calm down, okay?

That's it. I wanna go.

You're not listening to me, Léa.

Right, okay. Let's go.

No.

[chopping[

Patricia? Why did you k*ll your husband?

What?

Is that what brought you here?

Unfortunately for you,

that's all mindless rumor.

Not true. You told someone you did it.

Ismaël.

- Ismaël Messaoudène.
- Léa, stop it.

His body's finally been found.

He was in a river
with a b*llet in his head.

His funeral is tomorrow.

- Are you accusing me?
- No, no no, not at all!

The g*n, I want to know where it is.

The one you hid under your bed.

- How do you know about that?
- Uh, it was the cops.

They know everything.
And they know we're here right now.

Yes. Yes, they know.

They know.

This is ridiculous.

Ridiculous.

No.

I wouldn't have touched
a hair on that boy's head.

With your past,
people could question that.

- Seriously? What the f*ck?
- What?

I...

I defended myself against his blows.

That day,

my husband hit me so hard...

It was him or me.

That's right.

Why didn't you report him to the police?

There is such a thing as self-defense.

Because nobody gave a damn.
What do you think?

The cops thought I was just
a little groupie, feeling neglected.

Only one person never judged me.

Yes, that was Ismaël.

Is that it?

Is the trial over?

So now, get out of here!

b*at it!

Never come back here again!

f*ck.

Come on.

Oh f*ck.

- f*ck!
- Hold on.

I'll help you.

Let go! Let go.

Leave me alone! Leave me alone.

f*ck.

Look, I'm really sorry
my plan went so wrong.

Pleased with yourself?
No chance I'll get to see Dora now.

You'll get to see her. You live
in the same town. Don't be so dramatic.

Hey, you know what? I have plans too!

I matter too!

And I definitely have better things to do

than go insult a crazy old lady
who's already suffered enough.

Here's to sisterhood! Really nice.

God knows why I decided to come along
on this shitty trip with you.

I was pleased to see you
love something again, but you're not okay.

You need to see a shrink.

This can't go on, Léa!

- It's not my job to be doing this...
- Fine! I know, okay? Can we go now?

- Yeah. Okay, fine.
- Let's go home.

Come on! f*ck!

This sucks!

It's gonna be okay, all right?
I'll sort things out with Dora.

- We'll get back in time, I swear.
- f*ck, that's not it!

You don't get it! It's not that!

What is it, then?

Tell me.

You don't know what it's like for me
to worry about you all the time.

It's a constant anxiety for me
at the moment. I...

I don't know. I can see you're not okay!

I'm afraid I'll leave next year,
and you'll... you'll crumble.

I don't know what'll happen, but it...

it scares me, Léa.

It really does.

I'll go to Lyon with you.

What?

- I mean, if you want me to, of course.
- Seriously?

I can't stay here any longer.

I don't know what came over me this year.

I got scared. I thought that...

I thought I had no future,
and I'd end up like my parents.

I screwed myself. I know this.

But now...

I want to feel better.

Growing up, getting older, it's...

Even love is terrifying,
but at the very least, I want to try.

So I still don't know
what I want to do with my life,

but this time, I want to try.

I'm going to try to live now.

I'm sorry.

Forgive me.

You are my goddess, Romane, and I'll be
in your debt until the end of my days.

It's gonna be okay. I promise you.