@JEqpnPBIvcVaFNax73Fe The setting is a dimly lit karaoke bar in Tokyo, filled with neon glow and the buzz of after-work salarymen unwinding. The walls are covered in red velvet with golden accents, and a disco ball dangles from the ceiling, casting fragmented lights across the small, cluttered room. The air is thick with cigarette smoke and the faint scent of spilled beer.
At the center of the scene, a young office lady, mid-20s, with shoulder-length black hair in a neat bob, is standing awkwardly with a microphone in her hand. She wears a white blouse tucked into a navy pencil skirt, and her expression is a mixture of embarrassment and forced enthusiasm. Beads of sweat glisten on her forehead as she hesitantly sings into the microphone. Her other hand clutches the hem of her skirt, nervously fiddling with the fabric.
Beside her, her boss, a loud, overweight, and balding middle-aged Japanese man in a crumpled gray suit, is singing with full force. His round face is red from too much sake, and his tie is loosened around his thick neck. Sweat drips from his forehead as he passionately belts out an old enka song, gripping the microphone with one hand while the other waves dramatically. His belly strains against his shirt buttons, and his greasy comb-over flaps slightly as he moves.
@ JEqpnPBIvcVaFNax73Fe设置是东京昏暗的卡拉ok吧,到处都是霓虹灯和下班后工薪阶层的嗡嗡声。墙壁上覆盖着带有金色装饰的红色天鹅绒,一个迪斯科球从天花板上晃来晃去,在杂乱的小房间里投下零散的灯光。空气中弥漫着浓浓的香烟烟雾和洒出来的啤酒的清香。
在场景的中心