4

Tuncay was the only person who thought of me in the world . I really had to live. Even when I told him to walk away, he had my back. Moreover, he was not even one of my own blood; Tuncay was the son of the man my mother married for the second time. My mother had always felt that she was a stepmother to Tuncay, and as a result of her persecution, she had kidnapped her from home. He now lived alone in a small flat.

In the storm my mother started, we were like two trees growing together, whose branches were broken, leaves turned yellow, and roots withered.

I really admired him. Withstanding my mother's torments, he finally got out of that house, and now he was both studying and working. I, on the other hand, started to do drugs by deceiving a friend because of my weakness. I said I would only use it once, and here I am still going. I was addicted now. And as I couldn't find the courage to let go of the truth, I was showing it to my surroundings as courage.

Like any addict.

I heard this phrase 'Get cured' from Tunacay so many times. Nobody understood, but now drugs were medicine for me. I know it was a sign of weakness, but I would never have been able to cope with what my mother took from me and what they made me feel without the emptiness that the pills felt.

“I don't want it, Tuncay,” I said in a dazed voice, squeezing the thick whiskey glass in my hand. My thoughts were purulent; I was turning into the poison that could one day destroy me. "Stop dealing with a troubled person like me. Nothing will happen to me anymore."

"Let me help you," continued Tuncay, with an unyielding demeanor. He looked at the glass in my hands; a venomous pain formed in his eyes. As I hurt myself, he felt the cruel blows in his soul, I knew. "You're only eighteen, Lavin. Stop poisoning yourself."

“No,” I replied, shaking my head in the negative. "There's no such thing as quitting for me anymore."

Tuncay bent slightly to me. "You're wrong, Lavin," he said sharply. He looked me in the eyes with a determined and strong expression. "Just as there is such a thing as starting, there is also such a thing as quitting."

S "Can we get this off?" I asked, rubbing my temples. I grumbled. "I do not want to talk."

"We can close it," Tuncay replied. "At least, if you say you'll think about it."

Maybe I should have stayed in my mother's womb and never been born, I thought. I couldn't get used to people; I was unresponsive to luminous words. My place was not the world but a dark womb. "Maybe we should talk later, Tuncay," I evasively answered after a few seconds of silence.

"It seems to me," said Tuncay in a hopeless voice, and hesitated. He smiled; he had a merciful smile. "You're trying to dodge me again."

I did not answer, distressed, and when I turned my head to the entrance, my blue eyes found the owner of black eyes that opened a new darkness above my heart, which I was a foreigner and novice.

Edim Demiray.

My chest was empty and my heart was empty until he came into my life two months ago; now my chest is still full of empty heart. How could my heart beat so fast if it wasn't stuffed full?

His mysterious spirit touched my heart, which I had closed to the whole world and covered with veils.

As I watched Edim Demiray, dressed in black, pass through the crowd, every thought, everyone, and everything was erased from my eyes. He was carrying the magnificence of a movie star who moved alone from one end of the stage to the other, accompanied by spotlights. He was alone, but he was walking strong and dominating, as if an army were behind him. As always, he went into his own corner as if he were king alone and needed no one; power and loneliness flowed from his body. Waitresses were already walking around her, wearing mini-dresses ranging in size and color. I was swelled with anger, a wild feeling poking me; I wanted to smash those women around him one by one.

Fortunately, Edim had sent them all without the need for it.

my eyes, It was Tuncay's phone ringing, slowly tearing away from him like a leaf breaking off from its branch. Pulling it out of his pocket and looking at the caller, he said, "It's business; I'll be right back," as he stood up. He moved away from me to find a secluded place where he could talk comfortably.

Alya, known as Khen's right-hand man around here, came to me. His hair was white. It is not known if she was doing it on purpose, but she was always emitting a sharp and suffocating odor. Alya took her hand out of her pocket, placed it on the bar counter, straightened it, and brought it closer to me. “Khen sent it,” she said. "That dark handsome guy really saved you; who is he?"

"Tuncay," I said carefully, making sure it wasn't visible as I put the package in my pocket. In such places, the police would definitely have their eyes and ears, or there was always the possibility of a sudden raid; the police had a dangerous habit of being where and when they shouldn't be. Therefore, while they were careful to speak under pseudonyms, they also attached great importance to confidentiality.

Alya, looking at the side that falls across the room, said in a mocking voice, "Yours is here again," referring to Edim Demiray.

"That's not mine," I said coldly, taking a quick glance in the direction she was looking at and turning to face me again. I was trying to paint an image as if I had nothing to do with it. "Mind your own business, Alya."

"Don't be so shy, I know you're into him, Lavin," Alya said, her voice like a life buoy suffocating. The sparks of mockery burned in his eyes that would drive me mad. "I think he's coming here for you."

"Don't be silly, I'm not shy," I said through my teeth, realizing that he was chasing my secret with his sarcastic expression. It was hidden from me, private only to me. "He's not here for me."

"Even if Edim Demiray didn't come for you, you like him," said Alya. "Otherwise, why focus only on him when he arrives?"

I couldn't believe he had noticed that; I thought I was too careful not to let others notice. "It's not even related," I said angrily. I added without giving him the right to speak. "Get away from me now."

Alya chuckled. "He's not interested in the women here," she said, as if to say something interesting. “Khen said he was important and asked me to please him. Notice that he rarely asks me to please anyone.” After these words, I quickly turned my head to her and looked at her with the storm whirlwinds that I couldn't keep hidden in my eyes, and I was relieved when Alya added in an annoying voice, "Calm down, but she didn't even pay attention to me." She stopped. "Isn't it strange?"

I just stared at her face. When I didn't say a word, Alya got up and left.

As I glared angrily after her, I thought, why would it be weird not to be interested in women? I didn't understand why he exaggerated and found it interesting, so I turned around.