[sup][h1][center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/3b/6d/82/3b6d829c46014ad883307a52317a3671.jpg[/img][/center][b][center][color=black] B L A C K  C A N A R Y[/color]
[color=9288C1]B L A C K  C A N A R Y[/color][/center]
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[sup][color=9288C1]Chapter 1:[/color] The Lonely Hearts Club[/sup]

[color=darkgray][center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gNaUE54Ig0M&ab_channel=Vivoree]♫[/url][/center]

[center][i][color=9288C1]"Summer has come and passed, the innocent can never last..."[/color][/i][/center]

Dinah stood there on the stage of the Iceberg Lounge, getting herself lost in the music. She often did when she sang, especially with a song that hit too close to home. It had been years since she lost Oliver, but that didn't mean the hurt didn't rear its ugly head from time to time. "That's what grief does," her therapist had said to her. "There is no time frame for grief after a loss." What was she paying him for anyway if not to fix her?

But he had a point. She did not know if she would ever get over the hurt.

[center][i][color=9288C1]"Here comes the rain again,
Falling from the stars. 
Drenched in my pain again
Becoming who we are."[/color][/i][/center]

Dinah glanced over the audience as her words flowed to the corners of the room. She could not make out faces, just faceless silhouettes, enjoying their time together. She felt eyes on her, which on an average night would be welcomed. Appreciated even. But now she felt like her heart was on her chest being jabbed by nails and screws, each person looking at her, expecting her to burst from pain.

Deep breaths.

Don't let them see.

Don't let them in.

[center][i][color=9288C1]"As my memory rests, but never forget what I lost...."[/color][/i][/center]

Dinah had an appointment later. Well, it wasn't an appointment per se. That was what she referred to patrols as. She really, desperately needed to hit something and there was no better punching bag than a criminal. She debated on checking in to police dispatch and opted to just drive around and stop when it suited her.

She knew she was not in the proper headspace to do such, but she did not care. So long as she got bad guys off the streets, what did it matter if they had a broken arm or two. Her mind flashed to Batman, knowing he would say something. It was hard to respect the man she vehemently disagreed with. Wouldn't life's problems be solved if they were no longer running on the street or locked up in jail that they broke out of time and time again?

She shook it off. She needed a drink. Or twelve.

[center][i][color=9288C1]"Like my father's come to pass
Twenty years has gone so fast,
Wake me up when September ends
Wake me up when September ends
Wake me up when September ends."[/color][/i][/center]

She allowed the applause to reach her, giving a small bow before she exited the stage. She ignored the well-wishings, the "you were so good", and made her way to the bar. [color=9288C1]"Bourbon. Double it. Neat."[/color]

This was going to be a long night. She may as well be drunk for it.[/color]