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The air in Istanbul was thick with the scent of sea salt and old heartache. Selim sat by the window of his small apartment in Beyoğlu, watching the neon signs of the city flicker like dying pulses. He reached for an old cassette tape, the plastic cracked at the edges, and pressed play.

Leyla had laughed, her eyes reflecting the city lights. "Careful," she whispered, "Mine says if we love like this, even the stars might catch fire." The air in Istanbul was thick with the

Selim remembered a night years ago, dancing on a rooftop under a sky so clear it felt like you could reach out and grab a handful of diamonds. He had looked at Leyla and said, "Nothing can burn as bright as this." the plastic cracked at the edges