A basement in New York
New York, 1945. A smokey bar. A small stage upon which the jazz starlet breathes smooth tones into the mic, in a long velvet dress. Whispering memories of the lost glory days. New York, a ghost town now that half it’s citizens have been drafted overseas.
The War has ravaged the world for six long years, and humanity’s ugliest sides have been displayed in every newspaper and on every radio station. A ghost town except for the rejects and the abandoned, all desperately trying to get by while upholding some fraction of order in their home town, through a fragile hope of peace to come.
The Cellardoor is where they meet to chase that hope to drink away their sorrows, have their discreet meetings and dream their dreams of a better future – but peace or not, the world will never be the same.
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