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call it boredom as to why enzo had found himself in the library, he wasn't much of a reader but he did like records and old cassettes. anything that wasn't exactly his era, he seemed to like. camcorders, eight-tracks, walkmans, records, vhs, tapes... anything that could do the function or had to be rewinded. sometimes, the library had different things like that. he knew for a fact he'd find some old movies he could go through at the very least. ⏤ it wasn't until he saw yasemin that he stopped his current mission. feeling as though hanging out with yasemin was a much 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 distraction. ❛ maybe a little bit of both ? ❜ enzo answered, an answer to a question that there was a chance she wasn't asking anyone at all. a question she was just asking herself but nevertheless, he did. moving closer to the girl, enzo sat down on the floor next to her. ❛ didn't really have anything specific in mind but i'm down to hide if that's what we're doing. ❜ enzo gave her a small smile. ❛ unless you wanna get outta here, forget about books with sad endings ? ❜
realization hits, & suddenly books be damned. a laugh falls out before she can stifle it. if this reality wasn't what it was, she was sure she would have been hushed. “ forget about books with sad endings, hm ? bold plan. ” she closed the paperback and set it aside, leaning her elbows on her knees. fully attentive to her friend's uncanny charm. “ i guess we could risk it. might even be good for morale. ” her eyes warmed as she looked at enzo, the heaviness in her voice lifting. “ i gotta say, you're good at making hiding sound adventurous, ” she tilts her head toward the door of the bookstore. a playful challenge in her tone, “ so, where exactly does one go to outrun a tragic plot twist in new ham ? ”
so far, the silence of whatever was happening in town was pretty calming to teddy but he knew that, eventually, the silence would be too much. trying to get ahead of it, he figured a book would keep him busy for a time and, seeing as he’d already read everything at home, he made his way down to the bookstore. mindlessly browsing through the covers, the doctor jumped at the sound of the other. “maybe it’s a bit of both.” he grabbed the book his hand had landed on; on the beach by nevil shute — how fitting. “just trying to stay busy, i guess.”
yasemin’s head tilts, honey hues eyeing the book in the other's hand with mild curiosity. “ on the beach, ” she repeats, letting the title settle in the air. “ that’s cheerful. ” her tone wasn’t mocking, more like she appreciated the irony. she glanced down at her own book, turning the page more out of habit than interest. there was a time when being around books brought on an escape, wrapping her up in the pages, stories humming low in corners, but now it felt different. it all felt flat. “ guess we’re all just killing time until something changes. ” there's a softness that coats her voice as fingers scratch at the old carpet. “ you can sit if you want. floor's free real estate. ”
her lips curled up at the corners and she wrinkled up her nose as she grabbed yas a beer. amanda laughed and she sank her teeth into her lower lip, "i mean, that's not always a bad thing. sometimes people need to know the truth..." she murmured and shrugged her shoulders. "it could help right now. at least someone will know a semblance of some truth. we don't know how the hell we got here -- " she arched a brow and hummed. she nodded quickly, "i did work here. while i was going to school for nursing. i helped my parents pay for it," she said and sipped from her drink. "want a snack to go with your beer? we've got chips and stuff. i set up a dvd player for television and people can bring in movies they wanna watch while drinking. we've got titanic for right now, if that's your thing," she chuckled.
she takes the beverage with a nod of thanks. fingers curling around the bottle like it gave her something to do. her gaze flickers towards amanda, curious but never too direct, like she was still learning the shape of people in this new version of new ham. oh, new ham. even the name felt weird. “ well if you're offering ... i wouldn't say no to something stronger. just one. ” the edges of her mouth curl up, fingers turning the beer bottle in her hand before setting it back on the bar top. the subtle ache to make the world blur at the corners. her eyes flicker to the nearby tv and a groan slips, “ three hours to watch a ship sink. sounds a little too on-the-nose for the week we've had, but i'll take you up on those chips. ” a smile tugs at her lips, faintly hesitant to ask the next question. “ so ... how have you been holding up ? ”
the bookstore smelt like dust and paper — old comfort wrapped up in a new kind of silence. the perfect bow. yasemin sat cross-legged behind the counter. a paperback open in her lap, though she hadn't turned the page in over six minutes. “ people keep taking the books with happy endings, ” she said aloud, not looking up. “ i can't decide if that's hopeful or delusional. ” she finally glanced up, hues catching sight of someone nearby, “ looking for something ? or just hiding ? ”
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"i always seem to think about it.." she kind of wished that she was back in their usual town. she missed her family, her daughter, her life. everyone who was in west ham that was missing in new ham. how could she not ? she knew her parents had to of been taking care of gabriela. she couldn't help but wonder... if their presence was noticed. a thought that seemed to always consume her mind.. no matter what she did. "and we can never contact them, hear their voices, let them know that we're okay. i mean... have we even tried to see if mailing a letter would work ?" that more or less wouldn't do anything either. hazel had no clue if they even had mail trucks going around, especially if they couldn't even get packages. "we don't know how this ends... but there's only way way that it should." having hope was the only way hazel was going to get through this. "i have to be the one with hope. i've got someone waiting for me. i don't want to be here but i've got no choice. none of us do. if i have to be the brave one.. i'll be brave."
she doesn't move from her spot, simply listens. i've got someone waiting for me. & the realization hits. the words that follow next were soft, “ good. be brave for them. ” a curl reminiscent of a sad smile carves through her features. her weight shifts and she lifts herself up onto the kitchen counter. what a blessing and a curse to have people in both their lives who mattered more than the stars they wished on. but this hope. it was like the sun — too warm to touch, it might burn her. “ & maybe we could try writing letters ? just to feel like we're reaching for something even if no one reaches back. ” her feet dangle off the shared kitchen top as fingers pluck an apple that was near her hip, turning it in her hand before taking a bite. “ so what do you say ? ”
"we can pretend everything is normal and enjoy a beer or two..." she stood behind the bar top of the bar that had since been reopened under her insistance and she arched a brow at the other. "unless you'd like something stronger. you can only have a few if that's the case. they don't want a bunch of drunks walking around." amanda sipped from her soda and sighed as she leaned against the bar top. "this is my natural habitat. i know i do the nursing, but i worked here first...it all seems like home to me in here."
she eyed the barstool like it might collapse under the weight of her mood, but pushed herself up onto it anyway. “ beer is fine, ” she answered. her tone dry but not unfriendly. they both needed this in their own way — normalcy. “ anything stronger and i might start telling people how i really feel, ” she lets a laugh slip. rough around the edges, like it'd been sitting in her chest for too long without permission. as the other leaned in against the bar top, yasemin glanced around the room. soft fingertips absently traced the condensation ring left behind from someone else's drink. “ -wait, you worked here ? i didn't know that. then again, we didn't really know each other before all this, huh ? but i get it. sometimes a place remembers you better than people do. ”
"do you ever just think about the fact that people who know us and aren't here... are missing us ? like they woke up one day without us and us without them." hazel couldn't stop thinking about this fact. "but we're going to get back home. we're going to find a way. we have to ! i refuse to believe otherwise. if you won't be positive i will enough for the both of us !"
“ i think about it all the time. ” yasemin's eyes don't blink, instead they stay trained on the other. her thumb runs across the edge of her sleeve. a nervous habit, but a grounding one. it was that fear which kept her up at night. the fear of the unknown, because if this was real and everyone they cared about was just gone. well, she didn't want to go through another heartbreak. she was supposed to have more time. “ -that maybe someone's setting a place at the table. or charging a phone. waiting for a text that won't come, ” she looks down at her hands, a soft defeated look etching onto her features before she glances back up. “ and i think... it's not fair to keep pretending we know how this ends. ” another beat. she quickly shrugs the melancholy away, instead making sure to smile. forcing it to reach her eyes. “ but if you want to be the one with hope.. i'll let you. that's brave. ”
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“ what do you think? ” handing her phone off so they could get a better look at the screen. specifically, the group photo she managed to snag in the midst of all the discussions. “ i dare you to tell me that's not the perfect photo for the 'surviving ... whatever this is' documentary they're bound to make whenever they figure all this out. ”
fingertips take the phone without a word while brown hues skim over the screen. “ oh my, ” her lips curve up, the action not quite a smile, more like the idea of one. still, yasemin's eyes stayed trained on the candid. people mid-convo, another blinking, and her own expression ── unreadable, somewhere between present and miles away. “ it's definitely... a good depiction. yuri, are you going to be our personal photographer ? because i think that'd be lovely. ”
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( aslihan malbora, she/her, cis woman, twenty7. ) did you see yasemin demir around west ham lately ? whenever i think of them, i can’t help but picture a memory you can't pin down, spilled sweet tea and unsent letters, one eye on you, one eye on the exit, the quiet hum of a barely familiar lullaby. i’ve heard that they’ve taken up a role in this “new world” as a lookout member. people say they’re ( clever, emotionally perceptive, and independent ) but can also come across as ( manipulative, unpredictable, and avoidant ) if i had to pick an anthem for them, it’s probably ( the subway by chappell roan. ) as for where they’d be staying, you could probably found them at house eight in my opinion, they’re probably the songbird. intriguing, right? don’t count on this being the last you see or hear from them…
i. basics.
name: yasemin demir.
age: twenty seven.
nicknames: yas, yasmi, yassi, mina.
hometown: west ham, connecticut.
gender + pronouns: cis woman, she/her.
height: 5'6"
orientation: lesbian.
current house: eight.
languages spoken: english, some turkish ( spoken w her nene ).
character parallels: lucy gray ( hunger games ), julie monila ( julie & the phantoms ), maeve wiley ( sex education ).
ii. history.
you always had dark eyes, but not to be mistaken with coldness. your iris resembled that of warmth, as if they were the wood that could burn with a golden flame. you looked like your mother. everyone assured you so, they’d brush your cheek and utter those words. you wished you could remember her more. sickness took her away when you were eight. you remembered her voice, how she'd pluck strings of a baglama, soft turkish lullabies filling each room of the house, until that too became a fleeting echo over time.
years ticked on and you routinely stayed with your grandmother, nene. dad was on the road for weeks at a time, driving semi trucks on endless routes, and maybe, it was to get away from you. the spitting image of her. those thoughts spun a spiraling web. deep down you knew it wasn't true, you willed them not to. he needed to support you in the only way he knew how. so you stayed in the quiet in between, where tea simmered and old turkish songs would hum softly in the background.
your nene taught you resilience and wit. she taught you music like she had your mother. you had a voice like hers and this brought you closer to a memory. and you wanted, you dreamed, of taking that gift to heights, but everything changed after graduation. reality came knocking in the shape of your dad, pragmatic and maybe grieving in his own quiet way. he sat you down and told you music wasn't a future. the words landed like a closing door. so you stopped singing. you burned that dream. you put your guitar away and focused up. its as if you packed away the most vibrant part of yourself in a box, too afraid to open.
you left west ham and went to college. you chose social work, knowing this path was the acceptable route and it gave you a purpose. you knew what it was to feel voiceless and you wanted to help those who had lost their parents. it was not for the faint of heart. you worked hard and achieved your bachelors degree. then came your masters, all while working part-time. it helped suppress the artistic side. it kept you busy, but god you felt burnt out. relationships slipped through the cracks. you were avoidant to love. once you were fully licensed, it wasn't what you expected. long hours and an even larger case load. it was your first year and you felt like you were drowning. you wanted to help and you were, you hoped.
life brought you back to your childhood home in west ham just days before the impending questions. your nene's health was dwindling and your father needed help caretaking. your heart was heavy, but grateful to spend whatever time you had left in this foreign though familiar town. which brings us to present time.. you wake up and everything you cared about was gone. that's when the panic set in. where was nene ? your dad ? that calm exterior you put up, flipped upside down.
iii. personality
yasemin is like a wildflower — soft and graceful on the outside, but deeply resilient at the roots. she's not loud or attention-seeking, but people gravitate toward her. she's also the kind of person who sees everything, feels more than she says, and chooses her words carefully. however, she doesn't always let herself be known in return. she may delay difficult conversations or withdraw when intimacy or confrontation is required. total avoidant. she may bend situations subtly to maintain control or avoid vulnerability. it isn't out of malice but self preservation. she makes you feel like you’re the only one in the room and then vanishes before you realize she never told you anything real.
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