Miles awak­ens before dawn in a vine­yard, feel­ing dis­ori­ent­ed and dis­ap­point­ed by the absence of the rain­bow-haired girl. He had spent the night in hopes of see­ing her again, des­per­ate­ly want­i­ng to con­nect with some­one who made him feel like him­self. Instead, he grap­pled with lin­ger­ing anger towards his broth­er Wyn­ton, espe­cial­ly after a humil­i­at­ing inci­dent in a Dump­ster where he felt aban­doned. The humil­i­a­tion and rage swirl with­in him, mak­ing it dif­fi­cult for him to process his emo­tions.

Sur­round­ed by the mourn­ful calls of birds and the oppres­sive heat of the morn­ing, mem­o­ries of time spent with Uncle Clive flood his mind. Clive had instilled in Miles a con­nec­tion to the earth, teach­ing him that the regret and heartache they expe­ri­enced were inter­twined with the land and the wine pro­duced from it. These feel­ings seemed ampli­fied at dawn as the vine­yards felt weighty with sad­ness, as if reflect­ing the tur­moil brew­ing in Miles him­self.

San­dro, his dog, appears and prompts Miles to reflect on their long­ing for the girl. They share a sense of melan­choly togeth­er, rem­i­nis­cent of past times when they felt joy dur­ing their moments with her. Miles feels the shift in their dynam­ics as he ques­tions his own worth, feel­ing more and more like a “per­fect mon­ster” who was always the oppo­site of Wyn­ton, who had con­stant­ly caused chaos.

As he nav­i­gates his thoughts, Miles becomes acute­ly aware of the pres­sure of being the reli­ably per­fect son, mold­ed in con­trast to Wynton’s errat­ic behav­ior. His years of com­pli­ance won him a schol­ar­ship to a pres­ti­gious school, but now he wres­tled with the loss of iden­ti­ty that had come with being so unlike his broth­er. Just then, a rat­tle of an old Jeep inter­rupts his rever­ie, reveal­ing Uncle Clive’s dis­tressed demeanor. The grave words, “It’s your broth­er and it’s bad,” shat­ter the frag­ile tran­quil­i­ty of the morn­ing, pro­pelling Miles into a new, uncer­tain chap­ter of his life .