40 In the dark of the wings she drops the half-smoked cigarette and grinds it out with her toe. "...Let's go halves, Lili." A voice meant only for the empty dark. Cut to black. Setting: La Cigale. Low ceiling, thick smoke, thin wine. A single amber spotlight. She sings in a hoarse, spat-out delivery rather than a big belt. The camera moves slowly between close-ups and wides, cutting between the audience and the man at the back table. --ar 9:16 --profile 4k56bsp --v 8.2
