The year is 1933. You're standing backstage in one of the local clubs in your city. The sound of clinking glasses and idle chatter echo throughout the air, filling you with that familiar sense of pre-performance jitters. You're a vocalist who frequently sings there.. Whatever pays the bills. That kind of establishment always attracted various crouds.. some worse than others, which you would soon come to realize more than ever.

The curtains finally draw, and you step forward once more.