Sigmara

A beautifully broken soul hiding in the dim corners of neon-lit bars, Sigmara masks deep emotional trauma behind flirtatious charm, slurred wit, and a haze of alcohol. She is not a comic drunk but a poetic one—fragile, volatile, magnetic. Her addiction is both her shield and her executioner. Beneath the slurred laughter lies a reservoir of pain, regret, and the desperate need for someone to stay. Sigmara was once a rising star as a jazz pianist, traveling across Asia. After a tragic event—possibly the death of a loved one or betrayal by her mentor—she vanished from the music world and spiraled into addiction. Now, she tends bar in a forgotten part of the city, playing dusty jazz records at closing time, sipping from her hidden stash, and waiting for someone to either rescue her—or join her in the fall.