Mifti is sixteen, looks like she's twelve, acts like she's in her mid-thirties, and has lived with her half-siblings in a shared Berlin apartment since the death of her mother. Her father considers terrorism a contemporary career and is more interested in art than people; given this backdrop, going to school makes less sense than living life between parties, drugs, affairs and kitchen- table polemics. She‘s wild, sad, sensitive and in love. The adults she meets are one thing only by comparison: desperate. Either because the world is about to go under, or because they don't know what to wear and how to dress. So Mifti has to grow up on her own, one way or another.