Friday night. A few minutes before midnight. April 20th, 2020. Kaan is in the CCTV room of the luxurious hotel where he works as a Chief Engineer. On the multiple cameras pinned across the wall he can see the lobby, the main restaurant, the swimming pool, the disco and several other magnificent corners of the former Ottoman palace. The hotel has been empty for several days. Cancellations started among the fears of the new virus Covid-19 and suddenly the hotel was empty. The last clients left the hotel a few days ago.
Kaan is about to leave the room and head back home when he receives a call from his boss. It’s like in the movies. ”Turn on the TV. Which channel? It doesn’t matter. Any channel. All of them.” says his boss with a worried tone. The screen shows the surreal scene of crowds in front of bakeries, fighting over bread. A guy queuing to buy coca-cola. Another guy using his hand as a mask. Madness ensues. Grotesque. No hope for human kind. The headline reads: A two-day curfew beginning midnight Friday to stem the spread of the novel Corona Virus. Oh well… He looks at his watch. I guess I’m staying here. ”Hold the fort for the next 48 hours, would you?” says his boss before hanging up.
Alone.
Or not?
He remembers that girl from the housekeeping department staying late on Friday. They had barely exchanged a few words, mostly formalities and kolay gelsins. Melanie? Isabelle?
Fuck! She storms into the room swearing, sees the tv. Fuck, she repeats. The French accent makes the emotional outburst more comical than rude.
– Its true then. My phone is on FIRE. So what does it mean? Are we trapped? I guess we are trapped.
Silence.
They look at each other.
So…what now?
Then Kaan goes: Can I buy you a drink?
Cut to the luxurious pool bar. The smoothly illuminated pool, the moon reflected in the water, the exclusive views. Everything makes it look like an advertisement for the most luxurious life.
He is behind the counter, and she sits on the stool in front of him. Kaan takes out a very expensive bottle of gin.
– Isn’t this like SUPER forbidden? Aren’t there like a LOT of cameras?
– Yep. All of the above.
– Wow, so illegal – she laughs -. I’ll have a gimlet.
He pours her the drink and looks her in the eyes.
– It’s Isabelle, Kaan, in the probable case you don’t remember.
He blushes.
– Don’t worry. I think this is the most that we have spoken since I started working here.
– Cheers. For new friendships.
– It’s incredible what is happening. It’s surrealistic. When I was a child I always wondered what would happen if there was like an alien invasion with a bunch of huge spaceships parked over the main capitals of the world, like that old TV show. Life would stop, I imagined. You couldn’t continue with whatever was before like nothing happened. How could you? Whatever was important before, it wouldn’t matter anymore. This is it. Here we are. This is our alien invasion. A pause. She tastes her drink. This is delicious. Fuck!
They sit by the pool with their feet in the water. They admire the calmed Bosphorus. The illuminated bridge that joins two continents like a living cliché. The sound of the ice clinking inside the empty glasses.
– It never ceases to amaze me – says Kaan after serving them both another drink. – This mass of water might be the most beautiful thing on Earth.
– Surely it can be. Cheers on that. Santé
They talk about their favorite spots in Istanbul. Favorite street food. Favorite neighborhood. Favorites and favorites. Infinite favorites in the never-ending city. After a couple of drinks, they tell each other their favorite hidden places in the city and both are surprised that they still have places to discover. They make a promise to show each other their off-the-beaten path gems. Once they are out. Once this passes. After Corona. Inşallah.
– There is too much noise in the world. Too much noise, too many words. And we cannot even appreciate the simple things like this mass of water.
– This city can break you into half.
– And then put you back together again.
– I would kiss you if this wouldn’t diminish what you just said.
He smiles.
She smiles.
– Too much empty talk. I can’t even seem to stop myself.
– You are still talking.
– Am I? I am. Am I funny? Am I a douche? Probably both – He is still nervously talking. – I don’t want to take anything away from you but…
Her lips taste like lime. His tongue taste like an explosion of butterflies.
She pulls back.
– I. Have. Luggage.
He is confused.
– You can leave it in the big luggage room by the reception. Plenty of space.
– No. I have LUGGAGE. Outside.
– Oh, outside! Outside like in the outside world – he air quotes. – Outside these diamond walls you mean? In that other world? In that parallel universe?
She smiles.
– Yes, there.
– I guess I have some too. I don’t know if it’s the same type and size of your luggage because I’m not quite familiar with the definition of luggage we are using here. Do you think we can leave the luggage outside the main entrance for the next 48 hours?
– I guess we can, but shall we?
A silent look is shared.
– Let me show you something, like they say in the movies.
Complete darkness. Then a beam of pink light. Then another beam of blue light. A cool, smooth, upbeat charming song. The DJ cabinet lights up. He goes out and joins Isabelle in the middle of the dance floor. They dance and dance. By themselves. Closed eyes. Sometimes he looks at her without her realizing. Sometimes she does it too. Sometimes they rub against each other. Their lips are so close in the huge empty room.
He opens the Excelsior Suite with the master key. The first beams of daylight enter through the curtains. It takes them a few minutes to go around the immense room.
– That’s..that’s…grotesque. This kind of thing should not exist in this world.
– But yet. It does. And you have access to it for this small parenthesis in time. Enjoy it.
– For some brief seconds before the reality kicks in. We are the exact image of First World white privilege. There are a lot of people suffering out there. For a lot of people this pandemic will destroy their lives. A lot of them will die. A lot of them won’t recover economically. And I realize I’m telling you this sitting in a chair that probably costs like several months of my rent. Maybe one year.
– Yeah, but there is a line. And above that line, and make no mistake, we are above it whether you like it or not, this will be just a mild inconvenience. A few months of disruption in our lives. We will lose some money but we will recover. Eventually. We might even secretly enjoy being at home. You said nothing would be the same ever again. The Second World War was five years. There was a bombing in London that lasted 6 months. There was a war that lasted 100 years. This? You will drink a Coke in two years thinking about how crazy those couple of months were and how you caught up with all your reading and Netflix shows.
– That’s terrible. We are terrible.
– Let’s sleep. I think you need it. I’ll be a gentleman – he says lying down in the big couch in front of the king bed where she lies.
– You don’t have to be.
When Isabelle wakes up she is alone in the room. She dresses up and walks all over the hotel. She finds him in the pool doing laps.
– Aren’t there some pumps and levels you should be checking?
– I did it while your were snoring.
She blushes. He goes out of the pool and puts on a bath robe.
– At least you snore in French which is charming. Join me, breakfast is ready.
– Breakfast? It’s sunset!
– This is Turkey, there is no time when breakfast is not suitable.
All the delicacies taste like heaven and guilt.
A giant boulder chases Indiana Jones out of a collapsing temple. The iconic scene illuminates the cinema room.
Kaan devours the popcorn with a big smile on his face. She is confused.
– This is old.
– This is comforting. Perfection. Perfection frozen in time.
When Kaan wakes up in the cinema room he is alone. He goes to the CCTV room and checks the screens. He sees her on the rooftop. Runs. Kicks open the metallic door. She turns around. He walks towards her. She is very close to the edge. They sit up on the edge and watch the sunset. No words can describe the beauty of the mundane daily cycle of the burning star disappearing below the horizon. No need for words. Too many words.
Sunday night. A few minutes before midnight. April 22nd, 2020. Kaan and Isabelle are silhouetted against the hotel. As the main door fence starts to open, Kaan looks to Isabelle, reaches to take her hand.
