As the waiter served what he'd brought, the live music ended at the same time. I glanced toward the girls' table.
All five of them were chatting cheerfully. From the looks of it, everyone except Mete was pleasantly tipsy. I sent Mete a new message. After reading it, and knowing that I could see him, he placed his hand behind Duru's back and raised his thumb so as not to draw suspicion from the others. When my request was confirmed, the corner of my lips lifted in satisfaction.
"It just occurred to me—Lucky Blue called you 352 while you were in the car. What does it mean? Is it a nickname or one of those classic school number things?"
Despite the way Bora addressed him, which clearly irritated him, Rüzgar didn't comment and only studied him with a dangerous look. When Bora nervously leaned closer to me after that, Rüzgar caught the silent warning in my gaze and rolled his eyes in weary acceptance.
"You could call it a nickname, but not many people know it. The first person to ever call me that was Rüzgar anyway. As for the meaning… when I was a kid, my biggest dream was to be a pilot in the military. Like everyone else, I had an idol back then, someone who had etched his name into history in my dream profession. Erich Hartmann. He's the fighter pilot with the highest number of confirmed aerial victories not only in German war history but in world history. And 352 is the total number of aircraft he shot down."
When curiosity finally outweighed fear, Bora leaned back against the table again.
"So why did you give up on your dream?"
"Because of my family. The only son who was supposed to take over the family company wanting to enter a military academy and become a pilot was simply out of the question for them. When I told them about my real dream, both of them lost their minds. I tried every possible way to convince them, but nothing worked. So in the end, I gave up."
After those words, Rüzgar and I looked at each other at the same time. There was a part Efe wasn't telling about why he gave up.
The truth was, when Efe couldn't convince his family, he decided to apply despite them. The very next day, he was kidnapped.
Naturally, after that incident, because he developed psychological issues, he no longer had any chance of passing the military's health screenings to fulfill his dream.
What he went through during that month, and what the man who kidnapped him did to him, no one knew. He hadn't told a single word to anyone, not even the doctors who treated him. The worst part was that since Efe refused to talk, the man who kidnapped him was never found. But both Rüzgar and I had always believed there was more to this than what was visible.
Because from start to finish, it was suspicious.
First, the kidnapper never contacted the family even once during that entire month, meaning he made no demands for money or anything else. Second, Efe's parents behaved with a level of composure no parent normally would in such a situation. Even though the timing—right after Efe defied them and chose to live his own life—made their attitude seem somewhat understandable, it still made no sense to us.
Lastly, just as suddenly as Efe disappeared, he reappeared, and not long after he returned home, his family dropped the matter entirely.
At that point, we'd decided our suspicions were justified, but since it wasn't something we could interfere with, we kept our thoughts to ourselves.
"Damn. I'm sorry for you, man."
"Don't be. I realized my dream, if not fully, then at least partially. You're sitting across from a licensed pilot right now."
"For real?" Efe laughed and nodded at Bora's excited disbelief.
"For real."
"Holy shit, that's awesome! I've never had a pilot friend."
"What good is having a pilot friend? You can't even get on a plane, idiot!"
"Why, do you have some kind of condition or something?"
"Nope…" Demir cut in before Bora could continue.
"Other than being chronically stupid, he's perfectly fine. He just has a fear of flying."
Bora shot Demir a murderous glare and was about to unleash whatever came to mind when three waiters approached the table at the same time, trays full of drinks in their hands, killing his momentum. I turned to the waiter standing next to me and, knowing exactly what he was about to say, spoke before him.
"Take them all back. And tell whoever sent them that I'm not interested."
He nodded simply and walked away. When I turned to the waiters next to Rüzgar, I barely managed to suppress my grin. Rüzgar was looking at them in such a way that neither of them had dared to open their mouths. Especially the one on the left, clearly younger than us, looked like he was on the verge of surrendering his soul. The taller one must not have been able to handle the tension any longer, because he finally chose to speak.
"Sorry, bro, we didn't mean to bother you. Just pretend we were never here. Enjoy your night."
As both of them quietly retreated, the shorter one panicked and turned back to us. He slipped his free hand into his pocket, pulled out a napkin, placed it in front of Rüzgar, and quickly fled. Knowing Rüzgar wouldn't look, Bora reached out and took the napkin. When I glanced at what was written, I let out a deep sigh and shook my head hopelessly.
"For fuck's sake! The girl's possessed by Christian himself!" Bora looked up from the napkin to Rüzgar and continued in a panic. "We're trapped, Lucky Blue! A bunch of perverts whose balls escaped into playrooms as kids have surrounded us! Run for your life!"
When Demir took the napkin from Bora and read it, he turned to Rüzgar with a huge grin.
"At this rate, these girls you're betting on are going to land you in serious trouble. You should get yourself a fake girlfriend at least."
Instead of responding, Rüzgar looked at them with a confident smile. Even though I could guess what was going through his head, there was nothing that required my intervention for now, so I stayed silent. When Bora nudged my arm, I turned to him.
"Adonis, how much longer do we have to wait?"
"Not long, Curly."
"I don't get it. What exactly are we waiting for?" At Efe's question, I took a sip of my drink and leaned back.
"For Duru to get drunk."
"Right, of course… Hiding in a corner and waiting for your own girlfriend to get drunk isn't weird at all."
I answered my friend, who was studying me suspiciously, with a smug smile.
"Don't forget, Serter, evening out the number of players is just a precaution. The real strategy is winning without fighting."
"I don't know about your strategy, but if those guys get any closer to the girls, my strategy is going to get pretty bloody, brother."
Like Efe, Bora and Rüzgar paused their conversation and stared at Demir blankly, while my eyes went straight to the girls' table. When I saw it was empty and shifted my gaze to the dance floor, I spotted what had pissed Demir off and calmly turned back to my friends.
"Looks like they know we're here. Do you accept the challenge?"
When all of them agreed with expressions that said they were ready to play, I smiled with pleasure and stood up.
"Let's have some fun."
As we all headed toward the dance floor, I could feel the curious and admiring looks following us. All five of us were striking, but what really drew people in wasn't our appearance—it was the excessive confidence in our movements, the unsettling ease in our posture, and the danger written all over our faces.
As we blended into the dancers and reached the center, everyone around—including the guys Demir was pissed at—couldn't figure out why we were there. With a mix of tension and excitement, they stepped back and made way for us.
Each of us moved toward our own target, surrounding the group dancing enthusiastically, adrenaline swelling under the influence of alcohol.