Notes to Myself - Section 1: Introduction! (Narrated by Queen Salina)
Ah, dear readers, here we are, beginning Zeytuni's story. I am Queen Salina, gathering the memories seeping from her diary, the scattered notes on that messy desk, and presenting them to you. Do you remember that moment when I watched her sleeping? Knees tucked in, head bowed, wrapped in her blanket... Now it's time to wake her from her dream and drag her into the corridors of the past. In one of the seven layers of the universe, perhaps the most complex one, Zeytuni's journey begins. But don't rush; I, Salina, will illuminate every detail for you.
The classroom air was always quiet for her because she preferred to sit in class during breaks, sometimes closing her eyes to communicate with me, but when she opened them, she always forgot—like a heaviness from a dream settling over her.
Her high school desk mate, the girl with sharp eyes and an even sharper tongue, sat beside Zeytuni; her presence was like an inescapable storm cloud. Zeytuni knew her well because I had whispered it to her: her friend's soul was a tangle of jealousy, growing silently and exploding in desperate pleas.
She coveted the school valedictorian title, the success Zeytuni had earned through sleepless nights and endless efforts. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she begged, telling hardship stories that wrenched Zeytuni's heart. Then Zeytuni had a dream—so vivid, so unsettling that she stared at the ceiling until dawn. She made her decision: She would give her the title, but with one condition.
She would hand over the gift promised by their teacher for the valedictorian—a keepsake whose value she didn't yet know—to Zeytuni. Her eyes gleamed with ambition, unaware of the gift's worth, and she agreed without hesitation. Why did Zeytuni impose this condition? Because she was a liar; her words were woven like a web to distort the truth. Such a treasure shouldn't be in the hands of someone who sacrifices honesty for fame.
This decision was a spark that set Zeytuni's life ablaze, propelling her beyond borders into a brand-new world.
She, however, paid a heavier price than she imagined. Clinging to that empty victory, she squandered her university dreams in her first year, only managing to enter a college in her own city four years later. The sob story about her father that she begged Zeytuni with? A massive lie, exposed by her own recklessness. Her father, tired of her compulsive lying, had forbidden her from leaving their city. From the outside, the title was hers, but the opportunities slipped through Zeytuni's fingers.
Every summer, Zeytuni called her with a hope that she would change. But her voice grew increasingly bitter, her words filled with poison. “I was the valedictorian, but you went to university! It’s all your fault!” she screamed one day, her accusation absurd but heavy. Zeytuni's fault? Were her sacrifices, her lies, her scramble for a title to blame? Was she blameless while clawing at her seat, only for Zeytuni to build a new one and be deemed guilty? Anyway, the answer to that question hung in the air.
This first turning point in Zeytuni's life, shadowed by a toxic soul, extended—if not in her dreams, then in reality—to the gates of Vienna.
A New World and an Odd Encounter
University was a whirlwind of new faces and unfamiliar rhythms. By the end of the first semester, Zeytuni's academic success had spread word-of-mouth among the Turkish students. They called it a victory; Zeytuni saw it as just another step. But something else caught her attention—something far stranger. The girls here were burning with marriage dreams; especially when they spotted a Turkish guy with an Austrian passport, they’d swarm around him like moths. The guys, in turn, used this like a weapon, reveling in their status. Zeytuni tried to stay out of this game, but her inner observer—that cursed curiosity—wouldn’t obey. :D
Her meeting with Sinan unfolded in the shadows of three distinct moments. In the first, the sycophant Seyhan introduced Zeytuni to him. Sinan extended his hand, but Zeytuni didn’t shake it. “Why?” he asked, his brows rising in surprise. “You’ll understand later,” Zeytuni said, her voice carrying an odd certainty. She knew this guy from somewhere, but where? She shouldn’t touch him—that was certain. Her only guide was her instincts. Perhaps this moment was a flicker of memory from the partial amnesia she’d suffered, a nudge to recognize Sinan again. She wasn’t sure, but her feelings never lied.
The second and definitive moment involved Hatice. Yes, let’s meet Hatice a bit…
Hatice was the type who won friends by either opening her wallet for coffee or flaunting her grandfather’s supposed spellbook to the girls. She always portrayed herself as rich, but beneath that fake mask, she was unhappy. Because her friends came for her “gifts.” She feared loneliness, covering it up with even more effort. She was also racist; she hated Black people, Kurds. To Zeytuni, she’d say, “You’re Kurdish, but you’re my friend,” as if granting a favor. As if she were purebred Turkish with the right to judge! Get a DNA test in Turkey, and you won’t find a single “pure” Turk. It didn’t matter to her; rather, she didn’t argue with Hatice. As an elder once said, “Don’t argue with the ignorant—I’ve never won.”
Hatice presented herself as Zeytuni's closest friend. At first, she’d sidled up because Sümeyra said, “She’s good in class, use her, be smart!” She was arrogant enough to say this to Zeytuni's face. :D Then another motive emerged: getting close to a guy in the association she had a crush on. Like two-faced Gülbin, she’d say, “I want to help him,” donning a mask of kindness to win his favor.
Hatice, always crushing on someone platonically, fell for someone Zeytuni met in Istanbul after graduation. While Zeytuni tried to play matchmaker, Hatice revealed her paranoia alongside her hopeless romanticism. Just because she’d met her crush by chance, despite knowing her innocence, she spat venom over the phone: “Good thing they played tricks and cast spells on you—serves you right!” What didn’t she understand? What was done? Before hanging up, she said her final words: “Don’t ever call me again, Hatice!” She doubted Hatice would have the nerve anyway. In a moment of weakness, she’d let slip the gossip from her jealous housemates, Melek and Ayşe.
Having endured enough from Hatice, who could barely pronounce the “S” in “software engineer,” Zeytuni doesn’t know if she graduated. Probably not—maybe she got married or something. If she got a job, it’d be through the community. :D Communities show their power by hiring the incompetent! Anyway.
Hatice was set to meet someone through an arranged match. They’d entered the computer lab for a class. The guy would arrive, and Hatice would head to a café to meet him. Hatice left, and as Zeytuni worked on her assignment, Sinan entered with curly-haired Ayşegül. Ayşegül hugged the guy at the opposite table from behind, saying, “Babe, is the assignment done?” Ayşegül had her boyfriends do her homework and wasn’t shy about showing it. Sinan stood behind her, watching the scene. You can feel someone standing behind you, right?
Ayşegül’s boyfriend suddenly asked, “What were you doing with him?” Ayşegül was surprised; she’d just learned they knew each other. Then to Ayşegül, “Is he more handsome, or am I?” and added: “Pick one.” Ayşegül paused, looking at Sinan, and hugged her boyfriend: “You, of course.” Her boyfriend said, “Then prove it. Come home with me,” didn’t he. If she wanted him to finish the assignment, she’d go to his apartment.
Ayşegül said, “Don’t let him hear.” Her boyfriend replied, “He doesn’t understand anyway.” At that moment, she thought they meant Sinan, assuming he was Austrian; turns out they were talking about her. What wouldn’t she understand? Anyway.
There, Sinan and that guy had gotten into a fight over a woman they couldn’t share, arguing “Who will she go with?” Ayşegül chose not Sinan, but the grad student, Sinan’s brother’s friend. Sinan sat at the table next to her. His head bowed, looking sad. He’d been compared and discarded. She felt bad; damn her empathy! :D Then Hatice returned.
Sinan was sitting in the middle. She turned to Hatice: “Hatice, do you know what just happened?” and told the story. Of course, assuming Sinan didn’t know Turkish. Then, “The kid’s really upset, look at him,” she said. Hatice said, “Ask him out, he’ll feel better.” She replied to her:
“I’ve never had a boyfriend, and now I’m supposed to ask out a foreigner? (Back then it was called dating.) Even if he says yes, what happens? I can’t even hold his hand! They expect all sorts of things before marriage—I can’t do that. What, meet him five times and then sleep with him? Don’t mess with me, Hatice, please!” she said and added: “But from now on, his nickname is Yakışıklı.”
He’d been humiliated by being compared and told he wasn’t handsome. She wanted to do something like this in her own way. :D At that moment, Sinan, head still down, started laughing, didn’t he? She thought he was crying.
Anyway, that day ended like that… To be continued in the next section.