Original subtitles

Sometimes you are who you are, and sometimes you are who you pretend to be.

When I met Marcus, I wasn't exactly sure which of the above I was.

All I know is at least for a little while, in order for my story to make

sense, I'm going to have to tell it to you from Marcus' point of view.

Pieced together from the little bit he told me.

Apparently, in his mind, I was the girl on the bike.

Tunisia, white sand beaches.

Look at this place.

300 bucks for 10 days, including airfare.

We actually saved money by going there.

Figure it out.

What's the cost to live in Paris for a day?

Multiply it by 10, and what do you end up with?

300 bucks.

10 days.

Yeah, it's really cool.

She is.

Where's he going?

I have no idea.

He picked up and walked away.

Guess it's all in my eyes for a reason.

Every morning I wake up next to you and watch the sunlight caress your face.

Think of the times I watched you ride your bike along the Champs-Élysées.

Every night you come back to me and the hours are not enough.

If it's all in my head, how can I need you so much?

Is it all in my head?

Could be all in my head.

It must be all in my head.

Bonjour. Bonjour.

Je peux essayer?

Bien sûr.

Is it?

Is it all in my head?

I guess it's calling.

Guess it's all in my head.

Must be all in my head.

Or is it?

Is it?

Is it all in my head?

Guess it's all in my head.

Thank you.

No, thank you. It's done.

Oh.

Scar.

Thanks.

Thank you.

I'm not a prostitute I've never been

with a man for money I dance because I like

to dance I dance nude because I like being naughty

and they pay me well

Does that disappoint you?

I've betrayed your fantasy of me, haven't I?

I've betrayed your fantasy of me, haven't I?

Yes.

Yes, you've betrayed my fantasy of you.

Tell me about your friend.

I want to.

It's not just you.

So we're a couple in your fantasy?

Yeah.

And am I as pure as a loupier on my bicycle?

And do we have picnics in a field by a stream in the country?

And is there a wedding with uncles?

in bad suits and aunts with too much makeup.

And we're moving to a house with a garden that is already in bloom.

Where do you come from in America?

Detroit. Detroit?

Mm-hmm. Where they make the cars? Mm-hmm.

Buicks, Old Mobiles, and Cadillacs. Mm-hmm.

And Ford, and Chevrolet, and Chrysler pickup trucks. Oui.

Oui.

And there's nothing you can do to stop me.

But even if you did, I'd betray you tomorrow.

And if I didn't tomorrow, I'd do it the next day. And do you want to know why?

I don't trust men who fantasize.

Because in the end, no matter what, you always disappoint them.

So you want to get robbed?

How are you going to get it out?

At least it's in the yarn now.

At least it's real. You feel what you feel. You do what you do.

I like living for a moment.

That's mighty.

You know what?

Hey, you know what? I think you're full of shit. You think you're this person.

You think you're this person, but you're more.

You're more than this.

You're this person, too.

You're this person, too.

You think you're not good enough to make it as a real dancer, so you do this

instead. You know, my life, it gets a little tough. I hang in there.

I embrace the challenge and I come back.

You know, show your body off. That's what's going to make you happy. But at

least try.

Try. Just at least try to do something in the name of art. It will give you

peace of mind.

I guarantee it.

How can I see the moonlight through my dress?

Why do I taste your sweat or feel the heat of every

touch?

If it's all in my head, how can I love this?

Is it all in my head?

Guess it's all in my head.

It could be all in my head.

Every morning I wake up next to you and watch the sunlight caress your face.

Think of the times I watched you fly.

If it's all in my

head, how can I need you so much?

Is it all in my head?

Could be all in my head.

I had no intention of going to bed with that man.

I only did it to rattle his cage.

I loved his vanity.

It was like a true romance.

But I wonder if he would follow me.

I mean forever.

In my heart, I prayed that he'd follow me, but he didn't.

I guess Mr. Detroit finally got it through that little beautiful head of

his that I was actually who I pretended to be.

Or was I pretending to be who I actually was?

All I know is when I think back on those few hours I spent with him, I realize

that he was it.

The brass ring.

Possibly my last chance at what some people might call true romance.

Is it all in my head?

Must be all in my head.

Or is it?

Is it?

Is it all in my head?

Is it all in my head?

Because it's all in the Bible.