1
Bad Jazz
The lounge singer is in over his head.
He has a decent voice when he stays in the right register, Manu Juric thinks, but every song he’s chosen tonight has been a challenge — a touch too high, the notes fraying around the edges. The Bronze Room is too cheap a bar to filter it through an autocorrect unit.
Manu’d chip in to buy them one, but he’ll never get invited back after what he’s about to do.
The singer’s crooning in a mismatched suit, his hair and makeup done expertly but cuticles scuffed and shoddy, nails flaking underneath the cheap lacquer. Not just overreaching his vocal chords — he’s overreaching his league.
Manu tipped him anyway, earlier this evening, his tagged one-mark token tumbled in with all the others in the jar.
Manu’s drinking whiskey, the bar’s cheape
