Cerise is 14, but she looks 20. Cerise grew up on the outskirts of Paris, but here she is now, in exile in Ukraine. Cerise makes herself up like a scarlet woman, but she still cherishes the dreams of a little girl. Cerise has never known her father, but she now has to live with him. Cerise has never shown any interest in anyone or anything but herself, but now here she is, lost in the collectivist ideals of a society that no longer exists. Cerise has never opened a book, but has fallen in love with a guy who talks about nothing but Maupassant, Flaubert and Godard. Cerise, an adolescent’s rambling search for a perfect love… a search for herself.