City Lights, Fading

Script Excerpt

INT. BLUE NOTE JAZZ CLUB - NIGHT

Smoke curls through amber light. The crowd is sparse but attentive.

HAROLD JAMES (78), weathered hands that have known a thousand melodies, sits at a grand piano. His eyes are closed.

HAROLD
(to himself)
One more time.

His fingers find the keys. The first notes of "Round Midnight" fill the room.

At the bar, YOUNG PIANIST (25) watches, transfixed. She's taking notes in a small Moleskine.

HAROLD (V.O.)
They say jazz is about the notes you don't play. What they don't tell you is that life is the same way.

The music swells. Harold plays like he's having a conversation with ghosts only he can see.