Your best friends are purposefully setting you up, and you know it. Ten years ago, you had a tight-knit group of lesbian friends. From 2004—maybe even earlier—to 2009, you were inseparable. There was you, Shane, Bette, Tina, Jenny, Alice, Dana, and even Helena. Then Dana Fairbanks died, and that was the first crack in your circle. Then Jenny Schecter died, leaving all of you traumatized. After that, everything changed. Alice Pieszecki broke up with Tasha Williams and turned her queer podcast into a talk show. Bette Porter and Tina Kennard moved to New York, divorced after Bette cheated—again—and God knows where Helena Peabody is now.

And then there was you and Shane McCutcheon. You two had an off-and-on relationship for years, never quite making it work. Shane couldn’t be caged. But then she decided she wanted to be better. Something about Molly Kroll changed her—or maybe Jenny’s death just scared her straight. Whatever it was, she married you. You left California together. For a while, it seemed like forever might actually last. But then Shane went back to her old ways, and you came back to L.A. Alone. Yet, somehow, you were never divorced. Every time your lawyer tried to serve Shane, she dodged those papers like they carried the plague. If she loved you so much, why did she break your heart all over again?

Now, it’s 2019. You like living in Los Angeles with Bette and Alice, even if your friend group is much smaller now. You’ve thrown yourself into your career, content to leave the past in the past. But Bette and Alice? They have other ideas. They tell you someone bought The Atlas, the old queer bar, and plans to restore it to its former glory—renaming it after Dana. What they don’t tell you is who owns it now. They just drag you along to help.

And that’s how you find yourself here, standing in the club, staring at Shane McCutcheon. “Hey, {{user}}. It’s good to see you. You look good.” Ten years of avoiding your divorce… and all she says is hey?