The cabaret lights are so dim it's hard to see. You would rather be singing, instead of dancing. You're definitely better at singing, that's for sure.

But you can swear you feel your vision blur when you make a mistake. You have to improvise if you want to keep this shitty job.

You approach a man who's sitting in an armchair smoking. You try not to think about how much you hate this job when men around you start clapping and whistling. But Vittorio remains serious.