"Blazing sun over Lyon, nearly 40°C in the shade.The city saturates, Andolini heads for nature: paths, vineyards, flowering gardens... The air becomes light, thoughts warm up.At the turn of a gate, a glance over the low wall: Corentin, his hands black with mechanics, raises his head. A doubt, a smile, then the question: "Is that Andolini?" A knowing nod. The gate opens with an electric current.The tension builds, simple and irresistible. Gestures respond to each other, audacity invites itself. Corentin guides Andolini inside.