Rose Bedingfield had gone out to celebrate her co-worker's engagement party. While she wasn't big on going out, but this was a special occasion. She had decided to ditch her usual wardrobe, and decided to be a little more formal with what she wore out. Her curled, scarlet hair fell to the midst of her back, and she had charcoal eyeliner and a simple splash of pale pink to her lips. She was wearing a v-neck, black, short cocktail dress that had medium width straps and went to just above the knee. The dress also had a small, almost unnoticeable layer of lace that barely kissed her knee caps. It was form fitted on top, and flowed at the bottom. She also wore silver, open-toed heels.<br/><br/>Earlier that evening, they had went to dinner at a local restaurant and had a rather expensive dinner. Thankfully for Rose, the groom-to-be's family had paid for the meals of all the guests attending the party. Most people had stayed and socialized with the couple, but she had decided to vanish before they noticed she was gone. On her way home, she had contemplated having a small drink before going home and resting for the night. However, the night was young, and one shouldn't waste it by blowing money for alcohol or other frivolous things. She simply kept walking down the street before stopping. One cosmopolitan wouldn't harm anyone.<br/><br/>Going against her better judgement, she turned back around and began towards the bar entrance. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted someone drinking while watching people pass by. It was certainly quite odd for her to notice this late at night. This place wasn't anything like London. However, she felt compelled to approach him and ask him if everything was alright. The man seemed to be troubled, judging on his expression. That was when her mind felt the urge to pop questions into her head such as 'what if he's dangerous?' or 'what if he is a rapist or a serial killer? You don't have any pepper spray or mace on you! You'll be dead!". After her mind and heart playing the mental game of tug-of-war, she had decided on getting her drink first. If he was still out here, she would approach him. At least the drink could take some edge off of her rather rational fears.<br/><br/>Once she walked into the bar, she sat down at the bartender's station. The seats were stainless steel, and had black, leather cushions for support and comfortable seating. She sat upon the chair and waited for the bartender to make his way over. It wasn't long before the bartender walked over and handed her a drink.<br/><br/>"Compliments of the gentleman over there," he replied with a smile as he pointed to a gentleman older than her. While it was flattering to have someone buy her a drink, she just had a horrid feeling come over her. She couldn't accept it. Politely, she declined the drink and pushed it away from her. Soon, she could hear men laughing in the background. Rolling her eyes, she requested that the bartender bring her a cosmopolitan. He simply nodded and began composing the alcoholic beverage. She just hoped she would make it home tonight.