❝ NESRİN ADEM —

❝ mismatched furniture, a stack of unsent letters held together with fraying string, worn photographs tucked into the pillowcase, sentimental jewelry and thrifted sweaters two sizes too big; hard conversations whilst hiding in an unfilled tub, chugging another sip just to speak, home isn’t a house it’s where your heart is, facing down ghosts and demons no matter how bleak the outcome might seem; anxious smiles, haunted eyes, cuticles torn from too much fretting, a heart that aches with too much want and longing, goodbyes she’ll forever be regretting; a lonely violin sat untouched in the corner, clipping coupons and counting change, disheveled hair, the bright surprise of an unexpected laugh, learning how to separate self from shame.

NAME: Nesrin Adem

NICKNAME(S): Nes, predominantly, Nessy to a rare few

AGE: Thirty-four

RESIDENTIAL AREA: Mount Pleasant

OCCUPATION: Administrative Assistant

LENGTH OF TIME IN VANCOUVER: Ages 6 to 16, recently returned for 3 years

       BIOGRAPHY | CONNECTIONS | STATS | PINTEREST

Location: Oz Turkish Coffee & Bakery

Open: @vancitystarters

“Hey, sorry I think you grabbed mine,” Theo interrupted the stranger that grabbed his order from the counter. He had rushed out to grab Alma and him some coffee on this lazy Sunday afternoon and this place had the closest imitation to the Cuban coffee she liked so much.

—

“You’re right, I did,” Nes hummed in agreement as a slow smile took over her face, “but I had a hopeful hunch I knew who it belonged to.” In a city the size of Vancouver that guess could’ve gone horribly awry, but all it took was the sound of Theo’s familiar voice coming in behind her to prove her right. 

Turning, she flashed her boss a wider grin before handing over the drink. “Enjoying a lazy day out of the office?”

open: @vancitystarters​​ location: any bar with darts or pool table

“Ten dollars says you can’t make it a clean shot to end the game…how about the money and another round of drinks? Add in whatever you want, it’ll never go straight.”

—

Despite the fact that she didn’t drink, Nes had made herself at home in the comfort of Sully’s ever since Samhain. Around a dart board? Not so much. “You just had to remind me of my terrible aim, huh?” Biting back a wince she narrowed her gaze on the bullseye. Or, you know, anywhere that wasn’t the surrounding wall.

“Make it ten bucks and a basket of pub fries and I guess I’ll give it a shot, though.”

IN YOUR MUSE’S CAR w/ @vancitystarters​

“I was on the phone for twenty minutes trying to get those tickets and the caller they picked didn’t even know that was the movie Men in Black! The audacity.” 

—

Although a smirk threatened to curve across her lips, Nesrin managed to switch it to a soft smile of sympathy at the last second. “Should we call back and give the station and piece of our mind?” Not that she’d ever actually invite that sort of confrontation into her life. Or any confrontation, for that matter.

“What were the tickets for, anyway?”

DREAM CREAM ICE CREAM SHOP w/ @vancitystarters

“Why did I think trying avocado ice cream was a good idea?”

—

“I’d say it’s because any ice cream is always a good idea,” Nes wagered, her eyes pulling away from the shop’s case to glance over her shoulder. “Then again that’s probably just my sweet tooth talking.” Currently, it was also trying to convince her a triple scoop was in order no matter the extra cost. 

“Is it really that bad? I was kind of tempted to try it myself just to say I have.”

─── starter for @nesrinadem​

SAMHAIN FESTIVAL, SULLY’S TAVERN ─── There was a face in the crowd that didn’t quite fit in. Aside from her beauty, she really stood out from the crowd. Intrigued, Linc took a pull from his cigarette as his boot clad feet carried him across the room and through the crowd. There was always something about his presence, or maybe it was infamy, but the throng of people seemed to continue their partying while parting and making a path for him. “One of these things does not fit,” Linc teased, expression only showing amusement by ay of the twinkle in his eyes. “You good? Can I get you a drink?” Eyes turning toward the bartender briefly, he gave a slight nod in request and Linc’s attention turned back to the raven haired woman that only seemed to make him wonder where Nazli was.

—

It was probably the last type of establishment anyone would ever imagine Nesrin Adem considering the next best thing to home, but in her eyes and in her heart Sully’s Tavern was just that. Every inch of the place reminded her of cherished memories from her youth.

There was a certain comfort to be found in its familiarity. In the dim lights, boisterous laughter, and terminally sticky floors.

( And, okay, there was also the chance of seeing Matt. )

She was content to leave him to his work and keep herself company in one of the booths set far apart from the general insanity, though. It was only at the sound of an unfamiliar voice that she tore her attention from the cracked open book in her hands. 

Because, yeah, she was that girl who brought a book to the bar. 

The faintest wince pulled on her features (was it that obvious she wasn’t their typical clientele?) but Nes slipped into a smile despite her fears. “Oh, that’s okay. I don’t really—” drink. “I mean, just a coke would be fine, thanks.” And then she put her novel aside in an effort to be polite.

“Crazy turnout, right?” Pride at all Matt accomplished radiated in her eyes; she wouldn’t even try to hide it. “I mean, it’s always a crowd pleaser, but this is unreal. I wouldn’t think you could fit in this many bodies if I wasn’t seeing it for myself.”

Turns out there was a drastic difference between mending old clothes to give them a bit more borrowed time and constructing a costume from scratch. It only took about fifteen minutes into the workshop for Nes to comes to terms with that. To come to terms with the fact that she likely wasn’t walking out of there holding the answer to her costume budget prayers.

Needle poked fingers, ripped out stitches, cut pieces of fabric either two sizes too big or three sizes too small— “Be honest, please.” She dangled a smile for the person closest, then lifted up her who-knew-what-number attempt. “Does this look like a preschool arts and crafts project, or can you tell it’s meant to be a dress?”

Not for the first (or third) time Nesrin wondered why she’d agreed to subject herself to these things. Real life had enough horrors without inviting those in only fabricated in the name of Halloween. Then again, if the guide was to be believed, the haunts they’d be visiting weren’t just make believe.

Maybe her innate curiosity was what drew her to the tour. Maybe it was merely wanting to appease her daughter, Selvi, who shared her father’s love of all thinks spooky. 

Either way, Nes distracted herself on her phone while they all queued up to wait. Hoping she didn’t actually look as nervous as she felt, she glanced at the person nearest to her chosen spot at the back. “Which side are you on?” She attempted to brave a smile. “True believer or skeptic along for the ride?”

“You know, it’s crossed my mind—” at least half a dozen times since they’d arrived— “that if this place really is haunted we very well may die tonight.” A tad on the side of extreme? Absolutely, but it wasn’t a secret (let alone to Tali, of all people) that Nes rarely fared will with this sort of thing. 

Curled in on herself atop the only bed in the cabin, she tucked arms around her chest for a dose of extra comfort. Or courage. Either worked. “I think we should get anything we’ve been needing to say off our chests. You know. Just in case we’re about to be staring down our untimely graves.” One deep breath, and then, in a mumbled rush—

“Thank you so much! Keep the change.”

Paper cup of hot apple cider in hand, Nes turned away from the booth with a somewhat weary smile fading off her face. It’d been a long day chasing the tail of an almost sleepless night; had she taken up a job in one of the haunted houses that season she would’ve fit right in.

It was about halfway to her seat (or at least the one she hoped to snag among the dwindling availability) when she tripped over nothing but air and— “Oh crap! I am so sorry.” Cider splashed over the rim upon impact, dripping off her hands and soaking her jeans. Not that she cared about herself. 

“How do you always have a habit of showing up or coming through right when I need you?” Not that she actually believed he was there for her, of course, but amusement still danced in her gaze as Nes ventured closer. “Have you gone to the Scare Zone yet?” The attraction set decades in the past was intriguing, but— “I’m not really sure what to expect and haven’t been able to brave it yet.”

“It’s definitely a little bit more than the fairs we had back in Lunenburg,” Nes admitted with a quiet laugh, her eyes wandering around the over-the-top festival put on by the city, “but you can’t deny it has a little bit of everything for everyone.” 

Chances were he had somewhere else to be, or someone (anyone) else to be with, but— What was the harm in offering, right? They had to learn how to exist in the same place at the same time eventually. “I was, uhm, I was just about to go explore if you wanted to join?”

open starters for @vancitystarters​ (capping at 5) 

location: eating area of the festival

While Evie loved most days of the year, she came alive during the colder months. Holidays just felt different during the cold months. Perhaps it was her own nostalgic longing for something familial she hadn’t felt in years. Maybe it was the escapism that cold weather equated to a warm heart and wrapped in a pretty little bow. 

Her breath was nearly visible when she exhaled, a fascination she’d held since she was small, as she sat with a disgustingly sweet waffle wrapped around ice cream. Seats were hard to come by and she scooted her things aside to make room for someone.

“Here, you can sit here, but the rules are, you can’t judge me for my palate,” she offered.

—

Nesrin’s gaze volleyed between the waffle wrapped ice cream in her hand and the mile high plate of funnel cake in her own. Dusted in powdered sugar and drowning in whipped cream and extra strawberry sauce— A low chuckle gathered in her throat. “Promise not to judge you for yours if you promise not to judge me for mine.”

Her current indulgence was only one among many so far that evening. The grand finale, if you will, in a never-ending parade of caramel dipped apples and an obscene amount of pumpkin flavored treats. 

“Thanks for the offer, by the way.” The festival was packed, the seating options almost nonexistent. She made short work of putting her stuff down onto the cleared off space. “I really wasn’t looking forward to becoming the next main attraction while I stood in the middle of everyone’s way and shoveled this into my face.”

"Matty. Uhm... I guess I never really talk about how much I’d love to do something with music again, even if it’s not in the way I always used to dream about or imagine. And I guess I never talk about— well, I never talk about how much I’d like have more kids some day. Mostly because neither seem very likely, and that’s okay, but... yeah. Those.” - featuring @mattsullivan

"I’m proud of Selvi for continuously growing into an beautiful human full of so much compassion and light and humility and talent. I’m proud of my sisters for their capacity to love despite knowing how unkind the world can be in return. I’m proud of Tali for chasing after her dreams and never losing sight of them. I’m proud of Margot for owning even the not so easy things, and for unapologetically being herself. I’m proud of Lila for recognizing she needed help. Prouder still that she came home and has been willing to lay herself bare to what that means even though it hasn’t been very gentle on her heart. I’m proud of Armin for what he’s made of himself, and for being that one friend you always know you can count on no matter what or how little you may deserve it. I’m proud of Matty for being the most incredible and supportive father even though it came into his life so... belatedly. I’m proud of Lochlan for being brave enough to get on stage and share himself with the world. I’m proud of a lot of things, or people I guess, for a lot of reasons.” - featuring @talitadr, @margotmoore, @liladurmaz, @arminxkhan, @mattsullivan, and @lochlanmurphyy

"I’m not even sure I know what that means. I guess— I guess it would look something like waking up early enough to sit on the porch with a cup of tea to see the sunrise. Cooking breakfast in the kitchen with Selvi while we splash pancake batter everywhere because we’re too distracted dancing around in our pjs. Going out to feel the tide kiss at my toes. Taking a really long shower without the water going ice cold. Putting on a favorite sweater to curl up with a good book by the window. Maybe— maybe picking up my violin. Ending the night surrounded with the laughter of the people I love. I know it’s not your typical ‘self care’ routine, but it sounds perfect to me.”

"I’m not always... the kindest to myself, but I can genuinely say there’s nothing I’ve done recently that I wouldn’t be proud as hell to shout from the rooftops. Nervous? Sure. But still proud. It’s a nice change of pace so I’m not complaining.”