3

“Get me a glass of whiskey,” I said when the bartender finally sat up, hoping to quell the tension from my need for pills with alcohol. "Has Khen come?"

“He went out an hour ago and said he wouldn't be late,” the bartender said gruffly as he opened the large black cap of the whiskey bottle and poured it into the glass. He seemed depressed, placing the thick glass in front of me. "Today is the night of the proceeds. I don't think he'll be late; he'll be here soon."

Minutes roll over me; the need for pills surrounds me like time surrounds us. I couldn't wait any longer. I stood up and turned around when my eyes finally found what I was looking for; the corrupt compass of my lost soul pointed to my impending error: Khen. Khen, who is over thirty, sat on the stool next to me with that familiar bloodsucking vampire expression on his face.

Khen: He was a large, stern-eyed German. The only German in this cheap dilapidated bar was the owner, as well as himself. Of course, those who knew him for the first time thought he was just running this bar, but his main job is drugs. This wasn't a cheap bar. Every substance related to drugs brought from abroad, from the light to the deadly, was supplied by him. Some would say that he worked internationally for him; that is, he was the one who provided the transportation of drugs in Turkey and via Turkey to the border countries. He wasn't particularly talkative, but it was a well-known secret that he turned into a monster when it came to getting what he wanted. Soke used to take it... He was one of those who took money as a god.

"Khen, I was looking at you too," I muttered, leaning a little closer to him. Without hesitation, I got straight to the point and added, "I need a white dove," in the tone he'd hear.

Khen looked at me with an uncomfortable expression. "Do you have money?"

I desperately shift my gaze from Khen to the bar counter. I breathed angrily; my mother was punishing me with money again. For people swimming in money, cutting the money was tantamount to draining the fish. "Well... unfortunately, there isn't enough," I said. The salesmen were not merciful, I knew, but I hoped they would understand my situation since I had no other choice. "I promise, I'll collect it as soon as possible."

"Come on, Lavin. You're in debt every day. If you can't pay it, we can do it another way. You're not a foreigner after all."

The bartender was wiping glasses, paused for a moment and squinted at me, and our eyes met. As she shook her head vaguely no in a way only I could understand, I caught the secret call in her eyes that said, "Don't give her what she wanted."

I pulled away from the bartender and turned to Khen, hoping I'd misunderstood, but… The calloused words that had come out of his mouth with impudent meanings got stuck in my throat as I saw the savage possessiveness I'm familiar with around here in his eyes. I grit my teeth as I rub my throat with my trembling hand, the muscles in my face and even my eyebrows trembling with anger. He swallowed heavily. "What are you trying to say?" I exited. It was as if my voice came from far away but did not belong to me. The red veins stretching into my eyes, the color of the sea, like a bird's nest knitted with branches, surrounded my eyes.

“I've been giving you lilies for free three times now,” Khen said in a voice torn between businessman seriousness and silliness. When he tried to put his hand on my bare knee because of my shorts, I immediately pulled my knee away, realizing what he was going to do. Khen, with his hand in the air, laughed at my gesture and placed his hoisted hand on the counter as if unaffected. "Don't you think I've been generous enough, Lavin? My goodness has its limits too; it's time to repay the favor…it's already past."

With a disgusted expression on my face, I was contemplating saying something substantial to him, but at that moment, with the money thrown between me and Khen—on the counter—I quickly turned my head to the side, and the familiar face I saw made my pupils dilate, and I fell into the abyss of bewilderment.

No, what was he doing here?

Edim Demiray twitched on the hard sofa he had fallen asleep on. His black hair was damp, sweat dripping down his bare, muscular body, reaching farther down—to the line of his black jeans. His lower lip, adjacent to his twitching strong chin, was barely separated from his upper lip; he would obviously switch to delirium. But another sound that dispersed into the room, plunging into his nightmare, forcibly pulled him out of his sleep, which had turned into a fire.

He opened his eyes, gasping for breath.

Ever since the horrible memories he had lived through, the day he became a crow from a nightmare and rushed into his sleep with wings, his sleep had lost its restful character and had nothing but the marathon run he had just had to do. He was less rested than normal people, which required him to make a special effort throughout the day to keep his mind constantly alert.

In this city… Ever since he arrived in Lavin's city, his nightmares had increased at an alarming rate.

The ringing phone stopped, then started ringing again.

Edim sat up and leaned his back against the back of the seat, running his bony fingers hard through his black hair, hurting his skin. He picked up the still-ringing phone from the glass coffee table and turned it on, placing it on his ear, a deep cleft in the middle of his eyebrows. He placed one of his bare feet in the middle of the coffee table on the edge and pressed it hard as if he wanted to keep his writhing soul alive and come to himself.

He needed physical pain.

"Yes, uncle?" said Edim, rubbing his eyes hard with his thumb and forefinger. He answered his phone. His voice was thick and exhausted, and his breath fogged the glass of his phone.

"Why haven't I been able to reach you since last night, Edim?" his uncle asked angrily. “I thought something had happened to him and was worried.”

"I'm old enough to take care of myself," said Edim in a flat voice, angered at the fear of being worried for himself, a dark expression crossing his eyes. He grit his teeth as he recalled his past dark side once more, experiencing what someone had done for him under the pretext of being anxious. That's why he wouldn't let anyone worry about him. "Stop worrying about me like I'm a high school teenager who doesn't know what he's doing and doesn't plan." He didn't hesitate. "Both of you."

"As you say, young Demiray," said his uncle in a low voice, preferring to close the matter when he heard that he was angry. "You're watching the girl, aren't you?"

"Of course I'm watching. I'm even going to that stinking bar because of him," she said angrily.

"Get the girl as soon as possible, Edim. There's no other way to get her, Mommy. What about the other girl?"

"She's a whore; my job was too easy," Edim replied, staring at one side of the coffee table and frowning. His voice was as lifeless and dry as barren soil. "But it's useless to us."

"Good, I want the girl in two days, Edim."

"Okay, uncle," Edim Demiray muttered, thinking of Lavin. The drop of sweat, which had cooled down on his left chest, lost its shape and lost its shape towards his abdominal muscles. "Know it happened."

Even though he didn't want to go to that stinking bar, he was going. Because of a damn little girl. Terrible parties, simple parties, the worst parties... This girl has been going for it all. Undoubtedly, Lavin must have been the only girl who had such a social circle and was at the same time so antisocial. It evoked a familiar sense of wonder.

He stood up, leaving the phone as if tossing it on the coffee table. He turned to the large window behind him and stretched his arms back like a noble eagle; while the shoulder blades took on a distinct appearance like the two wings of an eagle, a hollow was formed between them. The spine was straight like a road. He looked out into the night behind the window, the black sky embracing the new moon for September. He took a deep breath and left the living room and went straight to the bathroom to shower.

He would complete the final preparations today.

Khen would not have been able to understand for a moment what had happened with the money thrown in front of him when he turned his evil gaze to the face of the man I knew, who was right next to me. "Stop looking like an idiot; bring the package," said Tuncay angrily. "You got your money; come on."

Khen stood up disgruntled, keeping his eyes on Tuncay. At that moment, a single image had fallen into the mirror of his eyes: wild disappointment. It frightened me to see the desire to have my body more than money on his hanging face. His desire was not unique to me; men like him sought pleasure in every body but also wanted to have every body. I was sick to my stomach; I would never have been with him even if his money had not come.

"What are you doing here, Tuncay?" 'I asked, glaring at his face. Tuncay had enough troubles, and the fact that he took the money out of his own pocket made me feel bad.

Tuncay looked angrily and said, "What's your job? You're going to die here," as he sat on the stool. "Is this really what you want?" The challenge on his face covered his face like the lines of a map. It was as if a cold wind had filled the air. "Do you have to choose this disgusting place?"

I turned slowly towards him, the lights filling the space and casting deep dark shadows on his face. "Who cares if I die?" I asked.

"It's me, Lavin. So don't do this to yourself. "Let me get you treated; let me get you off this poison," my broken voice said, tearing apart the lines on her face. "It hurts me to find you in these places every time; my worries about whether something happened to you never leave my mind like the enemy."