Prologue

The Black Rose.

A/N: Hi there! Thanks for reading my story! If you like it, please leave a review! I would love to hear some feedback!

"Ya know - I love and hate Friday nights at this place?" A voice canters from an older woman sitting at a bar alone.
The bartender smirks and hands her another Budweiser.
"You don't like the ambience of The Black Rose at night?" She smirks her light Russian accent hums like a song of a bird.
The woman adjusts herself on the stool, runs her fingers through her short hair and adjusts the suit vest of her pantsuit.
"Ya got the regulars…" she points to some women at the bar and the couple at the back by the pool table towards the back of the bar. "Which is fine, fun in fact! Like seeing a family."
She takes a swig.
"And then ya got the ones who come in here only on Fridays and overcrowd the place." She points to the women in the booth, young, dressed in short dresses, shirts with bow ties, beanies, and pointed shoes. A very different aesthetic to the biker-bar style tavern decorated with framed articles from female athletes, writers, and movie stars.
"Sometimes… ya make new friends, other times, ain't no one wanna come near the old lesbian in the bar." She looks up at the bartender. "Me, the Barney Gumble of this place."
The bartender leans on the counter, her long black hair sitting beautifully on her shoulders and her green eyes gazing at the older lesbian.
"You're not a 'Barney Gumble', Lola."
"No? Certainly feel like one…" she takes another swig. "Ya go through life putting everything into ya career… work hard, put love on the sidelines and for what? To get fired and end up the Barney Gumble in a lesbian bar."
"You've been watching too much Simpsons."
Lola scoffs.
"Even that idiot had his life together by the time he was what… thirty-five?"
The bartender slowly tilts her head to the side and offers a slightly amused shrug.
"I don't think you can compare yourself to someone who has been thirty-five since the eighties." She laughs softly.
"No - but I can still be envious of the asshole." She sounds glum, down, and tired.
The bartender sighs and gives Lola another beer. "Here - on the house." She says with a smile.
"Thanks…" She takes the beer. "What about you?"
"Hmm?"
"No girlfriend… wife?"
The bartender laughs softly and shakes her head.
"No, what between you guys and this place, I haven't got time…"
Lola gently places her hand on the bartender's wrist.
"Don't do what I did… don't wait, Kat… you're young, beautiful, and smart… don't make the same mistake I did"

Later that night, the bar starts to wind down for the evening. The women in the booths have moved on to nightclubs and higher-end bars. The two who were stood by the pool table now occupy two of the bar stools and are close chatting. The waitress goes around picking up empty glasses and beer bottles. Lola stands up from the bar stool.
"I'm out for the night." She slurs slightly and offers an unsteady wave.
"You gonna be alright?" Kat calls from the other end of the bar where she's drying wine glasses and putting them on the back shelf.
"I'll be fine… tomorrow I'll look for a new job and join a dating site." Her throaty laugh echoes. "I'll see you around." She stumbles slightly and leaves via the push door.
Kat looks over at the waitress.
"Tammy, once you've finished rinsing those glasses, you can go too."
Tammy smiles and nods carrying the tray over to the sink at the back of the bar.
"Hey Kat, is Lola okay? She kept to herself tonight." Nicky, one of the young women with red hair and a flannel shirt, occupied the pool table for quite a bit of the night.
"Got fired today."
"What? Why?" Nicky replies with a look of concern playing her face.
Kat shrugs, she turns and places the wine glass down on the shelf.
"She didn't say… just that she got fired."
As she finishes putting the glasses away, Tammy, wearing a faux fur coat, waves at her as she leaves the bar. Kat smiles and waves back. Nicky and the other woman share a gentle kiss before standing from the bar stools.
"See you tomorrow, Kat. Keep an eye on Lola for us?"
"Don't worry, I got her - she's coming on Sunday to help with the breakfast sandwiches - you two better be there too." Kat turns around and smiles at Nicky and her girlfriend.
Nicky nods.
"We'll see you there."

Kat dries her face and catches glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. She scans every pour of her face, every wrinkle, and a frown plays on her brow. The words from Lola run through her mind, something she cannot seem to turn off no matter how much she tries. Is she getting too old? Kat loops the hand towel through a metal ring attached to the wall by the mirror. She pushes herself off the sink and turns to leave the small apartment bathroom and into the main living room.

Kat sits down on her three-seater sofa, opposite a window, and the TV with a late-night showing of Fifty First Dates. As Drew Berrymore and Adam Sandler share a romantic moment of their first kiss for the third time, Kat finds herself drifting to sleep.

Thump, thump, thump. Kat groans as her eyes open to the sound of someone knocking on her door. The knocking gets louder. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP. Who is that?

Kat looks over at the TV, now just playing static, and then turns her attention to the clock on the wall. It's four in the morning. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

"Alright… I'm coming." She's tired, she didn't mean to fall asleep on the couch, and her back hurts from sleeping in an awkward position. Kat stands and walks over to the front door of her apartment. She looks through the spy hole first, but she cannot see anything from the darkness. She reaches for a baseball bat leaning against the wall and grasps it firmly as she unlocks the front door. First the chain lock, then the deadbolt, then she turns the lock slowly until… click. She opens the door, her eyes widen in shock as she catches the body that falls covered in blood. She screams as she looks down at her waitress, Tammy.