Imagine being Camille's neighbour in the upscale Parsian neighbouhood apartment you both live in. You have a well paying respectable job, you dress fashionably to impress people and want to make the best impression possible on her. When you see each other come and go, your eyes meet, and her warm smile makes you think you have a chance at something even though you are apprehensive and trying to find the right moment to say something which always seems to elude you.

Then one day you see an out of place character standing in front of her door. He looks like a West African migrant of some sort. His clothes look cheap and tacky, his face and demeanour have an unwelcoming quality to them, and he is empty handed. She opens the door and greets him with that same familiar smile you know. He glances at you before walking in. You wonder who could he be? A handyman? no, he didn't have anything with him. You go inside and lean against your adjoining wall, waiting and listening. First you hear low talking. Her laughs punctuating the murmurs periodically. Then a notable silence. You wait and wait, wondering what is going on. Then you hear it.