"It wouldn't take me even a minute to prove that's not true, but now's not the time. I'll save that for later, sunshine."
He leaned back and settled into his seat again.
"We're here."
The moment his attention shifted away from me, I turned to the window and closed my eyes, releasing a relieved breath. I really had gotten off easy. If he'd waited a little longer, it would've been impossible for me to stop myself from putting my foot in my mouth like last time.
I took a quick look around to figure out where we were. Most of the streetlights weren't working. I had to wait for my eyes to adjust to the darkness before I could see properly.
In the almost nonexistent light that was about to redefine the word "dim," I finally understood what kind of place we'd come to. The way people were acting and moving made it obvious. The moment it clicked, I whipped my head around to Kerem.
"I don't even want to think about what we're doing here, Kerem!"
After typing something on his phone, he put it in his pocket and turned to me.
"Listen to me carefully. Once I get out of the car, lock the doors immediately. If anyone comes up to the car or tries to talk to you, do not respond under any circumstances. If I'm not back in half an hour, call Demir. Most importantly, whatever happens, do not get out of this car."
"You might as well put a box of donuts in my lap while you're at it, hotshot. What is this, are we shooting some low-budget Hollywood movie?"
"I'm dead serious, Duru. There's a reason these streetlights aren't on."
His words made me look back out at the street again. I seriously doubted he was saying that just to scare me.
"Now, if there's no problem, I'm going."
Just as he was about to get out of the car, I grabbed his arm.
"I don't have Demir's number."
"Give me your phone."
I handed him my phone. He saved the number, gave it back without a word, and got out of the car.
The moment he stepped out, I locked the doors and started waiting.
The first few minutes passed with me watching the street in curiosity and trying to see what people were doing.
After a while, I realized the place ran on a constant, repetitive loop of activity. The pace was intense. It didn't surprise me—but it felt incredibly disturbing.
Under normal circumstances, this world had always been just a few banal scenes in movies for me. But people were actually living it. That realization triggered a vague guilt in the back of my mind—one I couldn't quite explain.
Especially when I watched the women standing on the left side of the street. Their clothes left most of their bodies exposed despite the cold, and they kept shifting in place just to avoid freezing. The sight pulled me into deep thought.
Watching these people struggle to sustain their lives—whether they had been born female or not—I couldn't help but wonder how many had chosen this path willingly.
Sometimes, the conversations they had with people in cars ended in unpleasant ways. Watching that only reinforced my assumption: most of them hadn't chosen this path willingly.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the road, there were men standing with their coats buttoned all the way up to their chins. I made a point of not watching them. They carried out quick exchanges with people who came up to them at irregular intervals. The conversations never lasted more than a few seconds.
I had practically memorized the business traffic by now. I was about to finish my second cup of coffee. And my brain was close to exploding as I tried to figure out why Kerem could possibly have come here.
A guy like him, who clearly wasn't struggling financially, could easily have accessed any of the "services" offered here through much more luxurious channels. And yet he'd chosen this run-down neighborhood instead—but why?
Thinking a bit more, I realized I was making a mistake by trying to piece things together solely based on what I was seeing. I couldn't rule out the possibility that this visit was based on a purpose independent of the commercial activity in the area.
After twenty minutes had passed and there was still no sign of him, I started to get seriously uneasy. I swung my legs impatiently and scanned the surroundings anxiously.
Where the hell was this guy?
If my suspicions weren't wrong, he had brought me here just to scare me, as payback for that stupid conversation about that TV show character.
Once we got out of this dump, whatever those thugs who chased him to my door had done would be nothing compared to what I was going to do.
When half an hour was up, I decided to wait a little longer before making a move. The moment I stepped out, he'd probably jump out from some corner with that infuriating grin and prove me wrong. I wasn't going to give him that chance.
And if he really was in trouble, I honestly thought a few extra punches wouldn't hurt him. It would be the price of coming up with such a stupid plan.
After another fifteen minutes of the same useless waiting, I couldn't take it anymore and grabbed my phone. I couldn't believe I was dealing with this nonsense when I could've been sleeping peacefully in my nice warm bed.
I opened my contacts, found Demir's number, and pressed the call button. At that exact moment, two dull beeps sounded in succession, and the screen went black.
Now I could feel the action in my bones.
What was I supposed to do? Follow him inside or find a phone somewhere and call the police?
I let out a frustrated breath and buried my face in my hands.
Calm down, Duru. Be reasonable.
Calling the police wouldn't help in a place like this; by the time they arrived, whatever needed to happen would've already happened. Besides, what would I even tell them?
"Hi, my friend walked into a random building and hasn't come out for half an hour. Could you please check if something happened to him?"
Something like that?
They'd probably scold me for wasting their time with my nonsense, then hang up in my face. And honestly, before I even managed to find a phone in a sketchy place like this, either I'd end up as a crime headline—or Kerem would.
Either way, following him seemed like the only logical option.
I grabbed the car key, stuffed it into my pocket, recited every prayer I knew—which unfortunately only amounted to about five—and stepped out of the car.
I locked the doors and looked around cautiously.
When I noticed several pairs of eyes on me, I quickly pulled my hood over my head.
Trying to hurry without drawing more attention to myself, I headed toward the building Kerem had entered. The more I walked, the longer the street seemed to get.
When I finally reached the music hall on the ground floor, I took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy metal door.
I hadn't taken more than two steps before the door slammed shut behind me, making everyone turn toward me.
Great. I was definitely going to die in this awful place, and no one would even notice.