I toss and turn in the soft bed. I can't guess how long I've been asleep because the thick curtains are drawn tightly. I had taken this precaution before going to sleep because I didn't want to interrupt my sleep with the first light of the day.

In the dark room, on the comfortable bed, with my eyes closed, I wait for get awaken. Suddenly it occurs to me that I didn't tell my father that I had arrived. I absentmindedly run my hand under the pillow. I want to look at the time, but the cool space under the pillow reminds me that I left my phone in the cab. I force my hand to find the light switch next to the bed. When I turn on the light, I close my eyes with my hand. A long flight, the time difference and the muscle-relaxing effect of the linden I drank afterwards have ruined the sleep pattern I've maintained for years. I wish this was the only damage my family had done to me.

Once I get used to the light, I finally think to call the reception desk from the phone next to the bed.

"Hi, what time is it now?"

"Hi ma'am, it's half past eleven at night."

Shit, I've completely missed the daytime, have I just wasted a day?

"Uh, can you check what time it is in Turkey?"

"Sure, hold on a second, please."

I'm starving. I can wait one more second. But I've long since missed the time when I should have called my father. I hope he's not sending someone after me.

"Istanbul is eight hours ahead of New York, ma'am, so it's 7:30 in the morning there now."

"Oh yes, that's right, I completely forgot there was an eight hour difference. Thank you very much. Can I make international calls from this phone?"

"Of course ma'am, is there anything else you need?"

"No, thank you very much."

I hang up the phone. I rub my forehead with my hands. I actually feel completely rested. I still feel dizzy and raw in my body. I don't even want to look at how I look in the mirror after my rat appearance last night.

I dial my father's number on the phone, it's early in the morning but he always wakes up early.

He answers immediately,

"Dad, it's Meryem."

" Meryem, we've been calling you for hours. Why didn't you answer your phone, whose phone is this?"

"Dad, calm down. I'm at the hotel. I'm calling from my room. I left my phone in the cab yesterday. Then I fell asleep because I was tired. Now I woke up and called you."

"Oh, is this what happened to you as soon as you left? Look, I can send someone to help you right away. We'll get you a place, you'll be comfortable."

"Dad, please don't worry about me. I just lost my phone. It's something that can happen there too. I'll go and buy a phone today. Actually, tomorrow. It’s late night now. But, don't worry about these things."

"Okay, but get a new phone right away and let us know immediately."

As soon as I hang up the phone with my father, I burst into tears. If you care about me so much, why am I here right now, Dad?

The phone in the room rings. I wipe my tears with my hands, sniffle and try to fix my voice.

"Hello?"

"Ma'am, someone brought a phone to the reception. He says he found it in the bar yesterday but he wants to give it to you. I wanted to call and ask for you because it says Meryem Altinel on the screen."

"Oh yes yes yes it's my phone. Please have the person who brought it wait there and I'll be right there."

I quickly put my shoes on and run to the elevator. When I see myself in the elevator mirror, I regret this rash decision I made.

Anyway, I am in no mood to meet the love of my life. After all, I am an engaged woman today.

When the elevator stops, I run to the reception desk. This is the guy from yesterday, from the bar. But what was his name? I can't remember his name. I can remember that last night didn't end well.

"Hi, well, I think you found my phone." I try to smile.

"Hi, yeah, I think you have been to the wars?"

His hazel eyes are full of smiles. I didn't notice his eyes last night. The light from the reception brings her perfection into my eyes.

Meryem, on your first day in New York, you snapped at a perfect man. Good for you, girl.

I reach out to take my phone from his hand, "I'm just a little tired."

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He grabs the phone and hides it behind his back, "You have to apologize first."

I frown, "For what?"

He raises his eyebrows as if he doesn't understand, "What do you mean for what? You should apologize for snapping at me yesterday. Because you were unfair."

I turn and look at the man at the reception desk, watching us like he's watching a movie. When he sees me looking at him, he immediately turns his gaze to the computer screen and starts typing something on the keyboard.

I'm sure you're writing song lyrics on a blank page, you nosy John.

When there is no reaction from me, the guy at the bar says, "If you don't apologize, I'll keep your phone. I'll be at the bar if you change your mind. I think you'll change your mind. I'm sure you remember where the bar is."

I stay where I am out of pride. I watch him turn around and leave. I can't go after him dressed like this. It's a miracle I made it this far. I hurry back to my room. As I walk, I hear John chuckling.

As much as I want to deal with John, I have a priority to get my phone. I get in the shower quickly, panting as I get out and hurriedly get dressed, smelling my own breath in the struggle to get ready.

This must be what hell smells like.

I brush my teeth, not sure if it will help. My kidneys warn me with a pain that reminds me I haven't drunk water for hours. I sit on the bed with my hand on my back. My brain stops for a moment. I reassure myself. Calm down, Meryem, you're fine. You are hungry, dehydrated, very tired and very cold. That's all. There's a mini bar in front of you. There's water in it.

There's a mini-bar in front of me! I didn't even have a chance to look at it, and the most exciting thing for me in a hotel is the mini-bar. I get up and open the mini bar. There's a bottle of water, that's good. As soon as I open the bottle, I finish all the water in one gulp. When I drink all the cold water, I get a pain in my stomach. Oh, fuck. I crawl under the covers and curl up. I'll take care of the phone in a bit.

Feeling a bit more myself, I get up, nauseous, shivering from the cold, using the last bits of energy I have, I leave the hotel. I look around to remember which way the bar is. I see the sidewalk where I got out of the cab yesterday. I walk to the sidewalk and notice the bar in front of me. This time I read the sign, “Moonpie”.

Why would anyone name a bar Moonpie? From the lighted writing on the sign, from all the details about the exterior of the place, it is clear that this is a bar, but why Moonpie? I have to ask that.

I go inside, he's nowhere to be seen. Someone else is at the bar. I go and sit in the same chair as last night.

"Hi, there was a man here yesterday. Tall, tattooed arms, brown hair?"

"'Lady, you don't have to be so detailed. There are two of us here. Ezra and me, Georgie."

"Oh, okay, Georgie. I'm looking for Ezra, then.”

Ezra comes in, wiping his wet hands on his apron. Georgie doesn't say anything, just points his finger at Ezra and goes back to stacking some glasses he's drying on a shelf in the back.

Ezra approaches with a smile,

"What would you like, ma'am?"

"My cell phone, please."

"Yes, ma'am. Can I pay in advance?"

He smiles. Why is he always smiling? Or rather, why does he smile so beautifully?

I roll my eyes. "Okay, Ezra. You're right. I apologize. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that yesterday."

He grins. He pulls my phone out of his back pocket. He hands it to me.

"You're not so bad when you talk like that, Meryem. By the way, I learned your name from the phone screen. What does it mean?"

When I reach out to take it, he glances at the ring on my finger. When I catch that look, I'm surprised he hadn't noticed it before, because what I can clearly see in his eyes is obvious disappointment.

"It's Mary, the mother of Jesus. Only in a different language. Thanks for my phone by the way..."

He turned away without waiting for me to finish, he says, "You're welcome."

"Hey, tell me, how did you get my phone?"

I remember him turning around and looking at me, starting to say something. My eyes glaze over and I feel myself slipping out of my chair.

In the recesses of my mind, a song lyric wanders,

The world is spinning, no matter what you say

The world is spinning, even if you don't realize…

***

"Hey, can you hear us? Look, I think she's waking up..."

There is something soft under my head, but I feel the rest of my body in contact with the cold, hard floor. When I manage to open my eyes, the spotlights on the ceiling catch my eyes. "What ridiculous lights for a bar..."

Ezra sits next to me to give me a sip of water. "Oh my God, you just fainted. I'm trying to figure out what's going on with you and you're giving us shit? You're such a grumpy bitch."

He supports me with one hand under my head so I can drink the water, and with the other hand he tries to get me to drink water. I don't want to be ungrateful for this effort, so I take a sip of water. Then I look him in the eye and say, "I just have low sugar. I need to eat something because I've been hungry for hours. I don't even remember what I ate last time or when I ate it."

I try to get up from where I'm lying down. Then I notice the shirt under my head, the shirt Ezra was wearing a moment ago. I guess he must have made up his mind first. His arms are covered in tattoos. He takes my hand and helps me up. I throw my hand to the shirt on the floor. When I get up, I hand it to Ezra, "Thank you. I didn't mean to be grumpy, it's just that my physiological state doesn't allow for any other course of action at the moment."

He takes the shirt and puts it on. "It's okay, you're right. I didn't realize you were so hungry. Wait."

"Wait for what?"

He looks at the watch on his arm, "Georgie, it's half an hour to closing. Can you do it without me this one time?"

Georgie nods, Ezra motions for me to go ahead and we walk out of the bar together.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm going to give you the best meal you'll ever have in your life."

"It sounds creepy. But I am not going to say anything because I am starving. Still, the best food is a bit pretentious, I'm from Turkey. I think the best food is in our kitchen."

He turns and looks at me, "After all, we are not in Turkey and you have no chance to prove to me that a Turkish dish is better."

I frown, "I guess you're right."

I don't say this to him, but if I actually had a home, I would show him what the best food is. I should actually have a home. How long can I stay in a hotel?

Ezra leads me down an alley where the smell of meat is amazing. My hunger climbs to its peak with the smells. We enter a small place and sit at one of the two tables. "This place is small because it's mostly takeaway. But you're going to love what you're about to eat."

A short, dark-haired girl with her hair pinned up with a pencil comes to take orders.

Ezra rubs his hands together and says, "Can we get the usual?"

The girl says sarcastically, "Yes, sir. As you wish," and turns away. I notice something awkward between them, but I don't really care, it's not my business.

Soon, just as Ezra said, we are eating the best hamburger in the world.

Ezra laughs at the haste with which I eat it.

I'm so hungry that I run out of food in minutes. A bump forms in front of my stomach, like I'm pregnant.

As Ezra walks me to the hotel, we chat. He asks me how long I will stay here. I tell him I can only stay for six months in one visit. He asks if I will stay in that hotel for six months, to which I have no answer.

In the morning, I fall asleep with a full stomach and in a pleasant mood.