create a similar story, change the name of the characters, eliminate the sensitive details and keep the lesbian details and give it a title.

The girl sang in the Church choir. Her voice lulled and soothed everyone present. The Church was filled with a dope of sweet sadness and longing. The audience seems to have been transported from the 21st century to many years or even centuries ago. It seemed that in a little while the doors would swing open to admit the distinguished ladies in fur coats and their gentlemen. But as the minutes passed, as if in a haze, vague images of events that had not occurred flew by, and still there were no ladies. And the disappointment of this burned the souls of the listeners.
Vasilisa sat in the last row. She dreamed with her eyes open, gazing unseeingly at the high vaults of the Church. Everything else seemed absurd and out of place. She, a citizen of the most Orthodox (according to the authorities and their heralds) country, listens to Catholic prayer in the Church, which is located in the heart of St. Petersburg. It's not weird, but it's exciting…
... When the musical evening ended, Vasilisa was one of the first to leave the Church. She didn't want to go to the Dorm at all, so she decided to wander around the snow-covered city. Nevsky Prospekt sparkled. Garlands (echoes of the past Christmas), numerous signs, decorated windows – all this brought elements of magic and elusive happiness. The windows of the bookstore shone especially brightly, and Vasilisa did not resist for a long time – without giving herself time to think, she pulled open the heavy doors and entered.
The girl took off her hat and gloves, dusted off the snow, and walked briskly to the historical books section. Philip August, Robespierre, the Duke of Wellington – heroes of past eras looked at her from the covers. But they didn't attract the girl. She held out her hand to the shelf of Books about the revolution.
And the whirlwind whirled her around.
Vasilisa did not remember how this hobby of hers began. It always seemed to be with her. She literally lived in February, breathed the free air of the February revolution. Her heart began to beat faster as soon as she came across the familiar names of the figures of those troubled days. Here Rodzianko telegraphs to the Emperor's headquarters about the state of affairs in the rebellious city, here Kerensky, the "first love of the revolution", speaks to the soldiers to encourage them. And with what pleasure and relief Vasilisa read about the abdication of Nicholas, how happy she was for the people who had thrown off the heavy yoke and had not yet had time to put on a new one. These months before the October revolution, which passed quickly and were forgotten by posterity, symbolized for the girl all the best that had ever happened.
She did not like to be questioned about the reasons for such a strong infatuation. And not because I didn't know them, but because I was afraid of being misunderstood. Russia does not like losers, and the provisional government lost on all fronts and failed to meet its responsibilities. Kerensky, on the other hand, was seen by many as a megalomaniac, and the false story of the flight from the Palace in a dress was forever fixed in the minds of people. It is strange, Vasilisa thought, that many people can justify Nicholas and empathize with his family, ignoring the terrible problems that the reign of the last of the Romanovs brought, and at the same time can be defenders of Stalin, turning a blind eye to the disastrous nature of his rule and not taking into account the absurdity of their beliefs. Yes, there are many such people, they can easily be found in some group with a right-wing political bias. But it is almost impossible to find those who would sincerely admire the work of the first Ministers of the new world. That's why Vasilisa was silent.
On dark nights, as she stepped out onto the Dorm stairs, she looked out at the blurry city in the distance. She smoked one after another to calm down and recover from a particularly strong book passage, to sober up and distract herself a little. But there was no distraction. She was literally delirious. It seemed to her that the first slogans of those days reached her through the centuries, that she heard the "Varshavyanka" close to her heart, which was sung by the demonstrators walking at the very beginning of the column.
And Vasilisa didn't know what to do with it. Her own life seemed boring and uninteresting to her. The century had lost its charm, and her vitality seemed to have deserted her. She wanted to lose herself in the lines of memoirs, to absorb all the shocks and hopes of this great rebellion. What is reality worth if there is no more place for heroism and sacrifice?
Here and now, standing in a bookstore, the girl flipped through the pages of memoirs of the ambassador, who was lucky enough to catch the beginning of the revolution, picking out familiar names. She knew that Maurice was quite sarcastic in his characterizations, but it didn't matter now. The main thing was the feelings that she felt, running her eyes over the lines. And God knows, the girl would have liked to buy a book, but the scholarship hadn't arrived yet, and the money her parents sent her every week was almost gone. With a heavy sigh, Vasilisa put the book back on the shelf.
Then she felt a hand on her arm. Vasilisa turned sharply and saw a smiling girl.
«You look beautiful. What's your favorite civil war?»
Vasilisa curled her lips in a grin.
«Is this an original way to start dating?»
«Why not?»  the girl laughed. «you just froze so strangely with this book... Seriously, the diary of Maurice Palaiologos?»
«Is something wrong?»
«No, it's okay, it's just that usually customers in this department pay attention to books about the October revolution. You know, Lenin, Trotsky and all that…»
«Yes, I know,» interrupted Vasilisa, who only now noticed that her companion was dressed in the uniform of a store employee. «but I don't like Communists.»
Vasilisa turned away, trying to stop this awkward conversation, but her plans did not come true.
«Really? I think they are the best thing that has ever happened to Russia. Judge for yourself, they managed to get out of the war, restored the economy, returned the captured territories, and even established diplomatic relations with other countries. And if someone more worthy than Stalin had eventually come to power, everything would have been completely different.»
«Yes, I agree, but they only regained the territories that they themselves lost, the economy had to be restored after the prolonged civil war, and the arrival of Stalin was a direct result of irreconcilable differences within the party.»
The girl looked at Vasilisa with interest.
«You know, I actually came to tell you that we're closing up, but... No, wait, listen. We're closing up, but I really want to continue our discussion, so how about pyshechnaya? I'm paying.»
It was strange, but pleasant and exciting. But the other eyes looked so soft that Vasilisa quickly nodded and laughed. Her companion brightened even more.
«All right, wait five minutes, I'll be quick! And I didn't introduce myself, did I? My name is Arina.»