Gümüş Perdenin Ardında

Chapter One

The body lay in perfect repose on the Victorian fainting couch, looking more like a sleeping beauty than a victim. Detective Sarah Chen had seen enough death in her ten years with the Metropolitan Police's Special Cases Unit to know that natural death never looked this peaceful. Something was very, very wrong.

        'No signs of struggle, no marks on the body, and yet...' She leaned closer, studying the victim's face. Charlotte Mills, aged 28, was found by her roommate this morning, apparently having passed away in her sleep. Her expression was serene, almost blissful, but her eyes - those were what caught Sarah's attention. Behind the closed lids, her eyes were moving rapidly, as if still deep in REM sleep.

        "You see it too, don't you?" The voice came from behind her, rich and cultured with a slight Irish lilt. "She's still dreaming."

        Sarah turned to find a tall man in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit standing in the doorway. He hadn't been there a moment ago, she was certain of it. His dark hair was streaked with silver at the temples, and his eyes were an unusual shade of amber that seemed to shift color in the light.

        "This is a closed crime scene," she said firmly, her hand instinctively moving toward her weapon. "How did you get in here?"

        He smiled, but it didn't reach those strange eyes. "Dr. Marcus Thorne," he said, pulling out a card that somehow both looked official and seemed to shimmer slightly. "I'm a consulting specialist with the Department's new Oneiric Phenomena Division."

        "The what division?" Sarah frowned, taking the card. The moment her fingers touched it, she felt a slight electric tingle, and the letters seemed to rearrange themselves before her eyes.

        "Dreams, Detective Chen. We investigate crimes involving dreams." He moved into the room with fluid grace, his attention fixed on the victim. "And this is the third one this month."

        Sarah's mind raced. There had been two other deaths recently - both young women, both found peacefully dead in their sleep. She'd seen the reports but hadn't made the connection until now. "How do you know about those cases?"

        "Because I've been tracking the killer for quite some time." Thorne knelt beside the body, his eyes now definitely more gold than amber. "He's what we call a Dream Collector - someone who has learned to enter and steal dreams. But this one has developed a taste for more than just dreams. He's taking souls."

        Under normal circumstances, Sarah would have dismissed such talk as nonsense. But there was something about the scene, about the victim's still-moving eyes, about Thorne himself, that made the impossible seem suddenly plausible.

        "If you're tracking him," she said carefully, "why haven't you caught him?"

        Thorne's expression darkened. "Because he only appears in dreams. The physical world is my domain, but his... his is the realm of sleep. To catch him, we need someone who can walk between both worlds." He turned those unsettling eyes on her. "Someone like you."

        "Me?" Sarah almost laughed, but the sound died in her throat as memories she'd long suppressed began to surface. The dreams that felt too real, the nights she'd awakened to find objects moved in her room, the way she sometimes knew things she couldn't possibly know...

        "You've always known you were different, haven't you, Detective?" Thorne's voice was gentle now. "The dreams that come true, the hunches that turn out to be right, the way you can sometimes see how people died just by touching objects they owned..."

        Sarah took an involuntary step back. "How do you know about that?"

        "Because I've been looking for someone like you. A Natural - someone born with the ability to cross the threshold between waking and dreaming." He gestured to the victim. "Charlotte here won't be his last. There will be others, and their souls will remain trapped in an eternal dream unless we stop him."

        Just then, the victim's hand twitched, her fingers moving as if writing something. Sarah moved closer, watching as invisible words were traced in the air. Thorne pulled out what looked like an antique monocle and held it up. Through its lens, golden letters shimmered in the air where Charlotte's fingers moved.

        "Help me," Thorne read aloud. "He's coming for the others."

        Sarah felt a chill run down her spine. She looked at the victim's peaceful face, at those restlessly moving eyes, and made a decision that would change her life forever.

        "Tell me what I need to do."

        Thorne's smile was grim. "First, you need to learn to control your abilities. Then..." he held up the monocle, through which Sarah could now see strange symbols glowing all around the room, "you need to learn to hunt in dreams."

        Outside the Victorian townhouse, storm clouds gathered, and Sarah Chen, homicide detective and newly discovered dream walker, took her first step into a world where nightmares were real, and death was just another kind of sleep.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Two

The basement of the Natural History Museum was the last place Sarah expected to find the headquarters of a secret dream investigation unit. Yet here she was, following Thorne through a maze of storage rooms filled with artifacts that seemed to pulse with their own inner light.

        "The mundane world only sees what it expects to see," Thorne explained, using an ornate key to unlock a heavy wooden door marked 'Private Collection.' "To them, this is just museum storage. To us, it's the largest collection of dream artifacts in the Western Hemisphere."

        The room beyond defied physics. It stretched impossibly far, filled with glass cases containing everything from ancient masks to modern-looking devices. Floating orbs of soft light illuminated collections of bottled dreams - actual dreams, swirling like liquid mercury behind glass.

        "Your badge, Detective," Thorne held out his hand. Sarah hesitated before handing over her police credentials. He placed it on a strange device that looked like a Victorian music box crossed with a computer. When he returned the badge, it felt different - heavier, somehow more real.

        "Now you'll be able to access both worlds officially," he said. "Look at it again."

        The badge had changed. Alongside her regular police credentials, new text had appeared: 'Special Inspector, Oneiric Investigations Division.' The letters seemed to shift between English and something older, something that made her eyes water if she looked too long.

        "Before we can hunt the Dream Collector, you need to understand what you're dealing with." Thorne led her to a case containing what looked like a normal pillow. "Touch it."

        Sarah reached out hesitantly. The moment her fingers made contact, the world tilted. She was suddenly standing in someone else's dream - a sunny beach, but the sky was green and the sand whispered secrets. She jerked her hand back, gasping.

        "Good," Thorne nodded approvingly. "Most people can't pull back from their first dream artifact. You have natural barriers."

        "What was that?" Sarah's heart was racing.

        "A dream fragment from 1892. A young girl's last dream before the influenza took her." His voice softened. "We preserve them here. Dreams carry memories, emotions, sometimes even pieces of souls."

        "And this Dream Collector... he takes entire souls?" Sarah remembered Charlotte Mills' peaceful face and restless eyes.

        "He traps them in eternal dreams, feeding off their essence." Thorne moved to another case, this one containing what looked like a cracked mirror. "Each victim becomes part of his collection, their souls powering his abilities, letting him dreamwalk without natural talent like yours."

        Suddenly, the cracked mirror began to frost over. In its surface, Sarah saw Charlotte Mills' face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then another face appeared - another victim, she presumed - and another.

        "He's showing off," Thorne growled. "He knows we're investigating."

        The temperature in the room dropped dramatically. Frost patterns spread from the mirror to nearby cases, and Sarah heard what sounded like distant laughter.

        "Well, well," a voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. "A new player in the game. And such interesting dreams you have, Detective Chen."

        Sarah felt something brush against her mind, like cold fingers trying to pry open a door. Instinctively, she slammed her mental barriers shut. The presence withdrew, but not before leaving behind an impression of amusement.

        "He's already caught your scent," Thorne said grimly. He pulled out a small velvet bag and removed what looked like a dreamcatcher made of silver wire and black pearls. "Wear this when you sleep. It won't keep him out entirely, but it'll stop him from stealing your dreams while you're still learning to defend yourself."

        As Sarah took the dreamcatcher, her fingers brushed Thorne's, and suddenly she was hit with a flash of his dreams - centuries of memories, battles fought in realms of sleep, and a profound sense of loss that made her gasp.

        Thorne withdrew his hand quickly. "Your abilities are stronger than I thought. We'll need to work on your control."

        "What are you?" Sarah asked directly. "You're not just some government consultant, are you?"

        Before he could answer, an alarm began to sound throughout the facility. One of the dream bottles had turned black, its contents writhing like smoke.

        "He's hunting again," Thorne said, already moving toward the exit. "Someone in the city has just entered their last dream. Are you ready for your first real case, Detective?"

        Sarah touched her new badge, feeling its power hum under her fingers. "Do we have time to save them?"

        "If we're lucky, we might catch him in the act. But remember - in dreams, he's incredibly powerful. One wrong move and you could lose your soul."

        As they rushed from the dream archive, Sarah caught one last glimpse of the cracked mirror. In its surface, she saw her own reflection smile back at her with eyes that weren't quite her own.

        The hunt was about to begin.

Chapter Three

They arrived at St. Bartholomew's Hospital just as the emergency lights began to flash. Sarah followed Thorne through corridors that seemed to blur at the edges of her vision, her new badge somehow clearing their path without ever being shown.

        "Room 307," Thorne said, his voice tight with urgency. "Young male, admitted for minor surgery, slipped into an unusual coma during recovery."

        The patient, David Parker, age 23, lay perfectly still on his hospital bed, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. Just like Charlotte Mills. But this time, something was different - the air around him rippled like heat waves over hot asphalt.

        "He's still in the process of taking him," Thorne said, pulling out what looked like an antique pocket watch. "We can follow if we're quick. Are you ready for your first dream dive?"

        Sarah's heart pounded. "What do I need to do?"

        "Take my hand. Focus on the patient. Let your consciousness slip between the moments of reality." Thorne's eyes began to glow that strange amber color. "And whatever you see in there, remember - dream logic is real logic in that world."

        Sarah grasped Thorne's hand and looked at David Parker. The world tilted, twisted, and suddenly...

        They were standing in a hospital corridor that wasn't quite right. The walls breathed slowly, the floor was made of flowing water that somehow supported their weight, and the ceiling was a swirling mass of constellation maps.

        "His dreamscape," Thorne explained, his voice echoing strangely. "Every dreamer creates their own reality. Look."

        Down the impossible corridor, a figure in a doctor's coat was leading David Parker by the hand. But the 'doctor' was wrong - his shadow moved independently, reaching out with grasping tendrils towards other dreams that floated past like soap bubbles.

        "The Dream Collector," Sarah whispered.

        As if hearing his name, the figure turned. Sarah's breath caught. His face was a beautiful mask of shifting features, never settling on one form, but his eyes... his eyes were endless pits of swirling dreams.

        "Ah, the new dreamer," his voice was like silk over broken glass. "And my old friend Marcus. Still trying to police the dream worlds?"

        Thorne stepped forward, and Sarah noticed his appearance had changed in the dream. His suit was now made of living shadows, and wings of dark light stretched from his shoulders. "Let him go, Collector. You've taken enough souls."

        The Collector laughed, the sound causing the hospital walls to crack, leaking golden dream-light. "Taken? Oh, Marcus, you still don't understand. They give themselves to me. Show her, David."

        The young man turned, and Sarah saw his eyes were glassy with bliss. "It's beautiful here," he said dreamily. "All my pain is gone. All my fears. He takes them all away."

        "By taking everything you are," Sarah found herself saying. She took a step forward, instinctively reaching for her police badge. In the dream, it transformed into a shield of pure light. "David, this isn't real healing. It's theft."

        The Collector's face rippled with anger. "You dare interrupt my collection?" The corridor began to twist, reality bending around them. "Let me show you what happens to those who interfere with my work."

        Suddenly, the floor beneath Sarah liquefied completely. She started to sink, but instead of water, she was drowning in dreams - thousands of them, each containing a fragment of someone's stolen soul. She saw Charlotte Mills dancing endlessly in a ballroom of mirrors, saw other victims trapped in perfect moments that had become eternal prisons.

        "Sarah!" Thorne's voice cut through the chaos. "Remember - dream logic! Make your own rules!"

        Dream logic. Sarah closed her eyes, focusing on her years of police work, of protecting people, of solving puzzles. When she opened them, her badge-shield had transformed into a sword of pure thought.

        With a cry, she slashed through the dream-flood. Reality reasserted itself - or at least, this dream's version of reality. She stood on solid ground again, facing the Collector.

        "Impressive," he purred, but she sensed uncertainty in his voice. "You're stronger than the usual dreamers Marcus recruits. Perhaps we could make a deal..."

        "No deals," Sarah said firmly. She could feel her power growing, reshaping the dream around them. "David, look at what he really is. Look with your heart, not your fears."

        For a moment, David's eyes cleared. The Collector's beautiful mask slipped, revealing something ancient and hungry beneath. David screamed, pulling away from the creature's grasp.

        The Collector snarled, his form shifting into something monstrous. "If I can't have him willingly..." Shadows exploded from his body, reaching for David.

        What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Thorne spread his dark wings, shielding David. Sarah's sword of thought became a net of light, trapping some of the shadows. But the Collector himself simply... stepped sideways, vanishing into a door that appeared in the air.

        "Sweet dreams, detectives," his voice lingered behind. "We'll meet again soon. After all, Sarah, your dreams are particularly... appetizing."

        The dreamscape began to dissolve. Sarah felt Thorne grab her arm, pulling her back through layers of reality. Then...

        They were standing in the hospital room again. David Parker was awake, gasping, but alive and whole. A nurse was rushing in, responding to his sudden revival.

        "We saved one," Thorne said quietly. "But he'll be angry now. And he'll come for you."

        Sarah touched her badge, still feeling echoes of its dream-power. "Good," she said grimly. "Because I have some questions for him about Charlotte Mills. And about what you really are, Marcus Thorne."

        Thorne's expression was unreadable. "All in time, Detective. For now, you need to rest. Tomorrow, your real training begins."

        As they left the hospital, Sarah could have sworn she saw her shadow move independently, reaching for dreams that floated just beyond the edge of sight. The world would never look quite the same again.

Chapter Four

Sarah's apartment looked different when she returned that night. The shadows seemed deeper, more alive, and ordinary objects cast reflections that didn't quite match reality. The dreamcatcher Thorne had given her pulsed softly in her pocket, responding to the changed way she now saw the world.

        She was exhausted but afraid to sleep. The Collector's words echoed in her mind: 'Your dreams are particularly appetizing.' Instead, she spread her case files across the coffee table - photographs of Charlotte Mills, the other victims, and now David Parker's medical records.

        A soft chime from her badge interrupted her concentration. The metal had grown warm, and when she touched it, words appeared in that strange shifting script: 'Archive. Now. Emergency.'

        The museum was different at night. Sarah's new badge led her through doors that hadn't existed during her first visit, down stairs that seemed to descend far deeper than the building's foundation should allow. She found Thorne in a circular room she hadn't seen before, surrounded by floating screens of light that showed various dreamscapes.

        "We have a problem," he said without preamble. "The Collector's attack pattern has changed. Look."

        The screens shifted, showing a map of the city overlaid with points of light. "Each light is a dreamer," Thorne explained. "The blue ones are normal dreams. The red..." He gestured, and several dots pulsed an angry crimson. "Those are nightmares being actively shaped by outside forces."

        "He's attacking multiple targets at once?"

        "No." Thorne's expression was grim. "He's leaving traps. Dream-snares. Anyone who falls asleep in these areas risks being pulled into a constructed nightmare. He's trying to overwhelm our ability to respond."

        Sarah studied the pattern of red dots. "They're forming a shape... a symbol?"

        "A summoning circle." A new voice joined them. Sarah turned to see an elderly woman emerging from what appeared to be a door made of starlight. Her eyes were milk-white, but she moved with absolute certainty.

        "Sarah, meet Dr. Eleanor Price, the Archive's keeper," Thorne said. "And yes, she's blind in the waking world, but in dreams..."

        "I see everything," Eleanor finished. Her unseeing eyes fixed on Sarah with uncomfortable accuracy. "Including what our friend the Collector is truly planning. He's not just taking souls anymore. He's building toward something larger."

        She gestured, and the room transformed around them. They were suddenly standing in what looked like a vast library, but the books were made of dreams, their pages flowing like liquid memory.

        "Every dream ever archived is stored here," Eleanor explained. "Including the oldest nightmares of humanity. The Collector isn't just a thief - he's trying to wake something that should stay sleeping. Something we locked away centuries ago."

        She pulled a book from the shelf, and its pages burst open, projecting a scene of ancient horror - a time when the boundary between dreams and reality was thinner, when nightmares could walk in daylight.

        "The Last Nightmare," Thorne said softly. "We thought it was safely contained, but if he completes that summoning circle..."

        A sudden tremor ran through the Archive. One of the red dots on the map had grown larger, pulsing violently.

        "He's starting," Eleanor's voice was urgent. "Sarah, you need to see something before you face this." She pressed her fingers to Sarah's forehead, and suddenly...

        She was in a memory. A younger Thorne stood with a woman who looked remarkably like Sarah herself, facing down a shadow that threatened to devour the world. The woman - another dream detective? - sacrificed herself to help seal away the nightmare.

        "Your mother," Eleanor's voice echoed in her mind. "She was one of us. Her sacrifice helped lock away the Last Nightmare, but the Collector has never stopped trying to free it. And now he's found you - her daughter, with her power."

        The vision ended abruptly as another tremor shook the Archive. More red dots were pulsing on the map.

        "Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah demanded, turning to Thorne.

        "Because I promised her I'd keep you away from this life," he replied, pain evident in his voice. "But now the Collector knows who you are, and we're running out of time."

        "The summoning circle will be complete at the next new moon," Eleanor added. "Three days from now. If the Last Nightmare wakes..."

        "Then we stop him before that happens," Sarah said firmly, though her mind was reeling from the revelations. "How do we break these dream-snares?"

        "It's dangerous," Thorne warned. "Each one is a trap designed specifically for dream walkers. If you're caught..."

        "Then you'll just have to watch my back," Sarah said. She touched her badge, feeling its power respond. "Where do we start?"

        Eleanor smiled, her blind eyes somehow twinkling. "First, you need to understand what you truly inherited from your mother. It's time you learned about the true history of the dream walkers - and why the Collector fears your bloodline above all others."

        As if in response to Eleanor's words, the books around them began to glow, their pages rustling with the weight of secrets about to be revealed. In the map above, the red dots pulsed like a countdown to catastrophe, and Sarah realized she had less than three days to master powers she never knew she had.

        The true game was about to begin.

Sabahın sekizinde, sette.
"Ne? Bu kadar çok sahnesini mi sildiniz?"
Demi South, bir bakıcı minibüsünün dışında, sesinde bariz bir memnuniyetsizlikle kalın bir senaryoyu karıştırıyordu.
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Demi'nin öfkeli görüntüsünü gören asistan onu durdurmak istedi ama artık çok geçti, bu yüzden sadece onu yakından takip edebildi.
Demi önce kapıyı iterek açtı, içerideki ses onun hareketiyle kesildi, herkes şaşkınlıkla ona baktı ve olduğu yerde dondu kaldı.
Kalabalığı görmezden geldi, doğruca Blake Morgan'a yürüdü, senaryoyu masaya çarptı, kollarını kavuşturdu ve öfkeyle onu sorguladı: "Blake Morgan, film yıldızı unvanına sahip olmadığımı düşünme, bu yüzden senin tarafından zorbalığa uğrayabilirsin! Eğer gerçekten senin rolüne dokunmaya cüret edersem, bu gerçekten bela aramak olur! Yönetmenle işbirliği mi yapıyorsun?"
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Demi'nin gözleri büyüdü, daha önce hiç kimse onunla bu şekilde konuşmaya cesaret edememişti. Doğruca Blake'e baktı ve vurguladı, "O! Sadece! Hayır! Bana söyledi! Eğer yarın onun rolünü geri alamazsam, beni utandıracak!"
Makyaj sanatçıları ve asistanlar sessizce bu yüzleşmeyi izliyor, Demi ve Blake'in kafa kafaya geldiğini görüyor, hepsi nefeslerini tutuyor. Tüm Hollywood'da kim Blake ile böyle konuşmaya cesaret edebilir, Demi gerçekten gökyüzünü ve yeryüzünü bilmiyor, onu tehdit etmeye nasıl cüret eder.
Blake sonunda Demi'ye baktı, yavaşça ayağa kalktı ve ona doğru yürüdü. Ancak Demi hiç ürkmedi, bunun yerine meydan okuyan bir tavırla onu karşıladı.
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Bunu söyledikten sonra Demi'nin üzerinden geçti ve doğruca salonun kapısına doğru yürüdü.
Kapının kapanırken çıkardığı "bang" sesiyle Demi kendine geldi, Blake'in az önce söylediklerini öfkeyle düşündü, o kadar öfkeliydi ki dişlerini zor ısırıyordu, ayağını kaldırdı ve yere attığı metnin üzerine bastı, sanki itibarını ayaklar altına alıyormuş gibi, "Aaaaaaahhhh, Blake Morgan, seni hatırlayacağım! Seni! Pislik herif!
Demi duygularını açığa vurduktan sonra salondaki insanlara bir daha bakmadı ve doğruca kapıya doğru yürüdü.
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1 Eylül, St. Eden Akademisi.
Okulun ilk gününün sabahında, okulun önünde park etmiş çok sayıda araba vardı ve düşük profilli siyah dadı arabası trafikte özellikle sakin görünüyordu. Kapı yavaşça açıldı, Demi South sade beyaz bir tişört, siyah tozluk ve bir çift spor ayakkabı giymiş, okul çantasını taşıyarak arabadan atladı.
Blake Morgan'la birlikte rol aldığı Hafif Esinti ve Hafif Yağmur filminin tanıtımına başlanmış olsa da başrol oyuncusunun kimliği hala bir sır. Bu yüzden Demi hiç umursamadan okulun kapısına doğru yürüdü.
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Demi'nin gözleri faltaşı gibi açılmıştı, panik içinde bir sarsıntı geçirdi, ezilmemek için kalabalıktan kaçmaya çalıştı. Ancak planı değişime ayak uyduramadı, tam ayaklarını kaldırıp kaçmak üzereyken sert bir darbe aldı, vücudu dengesini kaybetti ve geriye doğru düştü.
Ağırlık merkezi eğilen Demi'nin ilk tepkisi yüzünü kapatmak oldu; kazanın görünüşünü mahvedebileceğinden ve Blake'in sahnesini kesme fırsatını mutlaka değerlendireceğinden korkuyordu! Sert zemine düşmek yerine, sıcak bir kucağa yakalandı.
"Ah ！！！！！！"
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O kadar korkmuştu ki orada donup kaldı ama o kişinin kucağından çekilmeyi unuttu. Tam o anda başının üstünden manyetik bir erkek sesi geldi: "Daha ne kadar kollarımda kalmak istiyorsun?"
Demi, sesin tanıdık geldiğini düşünerek afallamıştı. Ancak yine de aceleyle o kişinin kucağından çekildi, başını kaldırdı ve "Özür dilerim, ......" dedi.
Cümlesini bitirmeden önce arkasındaki kişinin gözleriyle karşılaştı ve ardından gerçekten tek kelime edemedi.
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Blake onun öfkesini görmezden geldi, hafifçe bedenine eğildi, çenesine dokundu, kaşlarını kaldırdı ve şöyle dedi: "Ne? Bana böyle bak, benim gibi mi?"
Demi neredeyse yüzüne tükürmekten kendini alamayacaktı ama etrafında toplanan hayranlarına ve muhabirlere bakınca bunun kesinlikle daha büyük bir halk tepkisine yol açacağını ve er ya da geç ertesi gün şehrin her yerinde söylentilere boğulacağını biliyordu.
Demi bu durumdan nasıl kurtulacağını düşünürken, meraklı muhabirler çoktan öne fırlamış, mikrofonlarını Demi ve Blake'e doğrultmuş ve hevesle "Blake, elindeki kız senin kız arkadaşın mı?" diye sormuşlardı.
"BCluake,a o_kuwlwa burayZa UkhızF éargkjad_avşın viçin mi gxeldain&?I"&
"Blake, ilişkinizi duyurmak gibi bir planın var mı?"
Tam herkes Demi'nin Blake'in kız arkadaşı olduğu konusunda hemfikirken, bir muhabir aniden araya girer, "Blake, yakın zamanda yeni bir film çektiğini duydum, ama kadın başrol henüz açıklanmadı, bu kız olamaz, değil mi?"
Demi'nin kalbi sıkıştı, bu muhabir çok anlayışlıydı.

Ancak, Blake Morgan'ın yeni şovuyla ilgili mevcut meraka ve muhabirin açıklamasının biraz mantıklı olmasına rağmen, kalabalık Blake ve Demi South'un bir ilişki içinde olduğuna inanmaya daha meyilliydi, sonuçta bu tür haberler daha sansasyonel. Sonuç olarak, soru büyük ölçüde göz ardı edildi ve sohbet Blake ve Demi'nin sevgili olup olmadığı sorusuna döndü.
Etrafındaki durumu gözlemleyen Demi, isteksizce ama tedbiri elden bırakmayarak hafifçe geri adım attı ama minnettarmış gibi davranarak Blake'e, "Yardımınız için teşekkürler Usta Morgan!" dedi.
İçinden sessizce performansını değerlendirdi ve şöyle düşündü: "Oyunculuk bir aktörün temel niteliğidir.
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Kalabalık yavaş yavaş güvenmeye başladığında, Blake aniden doğrulur ve ellerini rahatça pantolonunun ceplerine sokar. Bu rahat hareket, çevredeki kızların tekrar çığlık atmasına neden olan bir film ekranı gibi yorumlandı.
Demi dudaklarını büzerek içinden şöyle düşündü: "Bin yıllık kötülüğün geride kalacağı doğru!
Blake acele etmeden Demi'ye doğru yürüdü, göz göze gelmek için başını hafifçe eğdi ve yavaş ve net bir şekilde, "Öyle mi? Geçen gece söylediğin bu değildi." dedi.
"Valy fcjanına!"A wSWa(deycTe ,D^emiS Wdbotnqupf ,kalmVak,lkaK kawlym^aMdvı, eftVrYaSfLıónldMa*ki^ XhVer&kGesJin CB^latkeZ''ihn RaçhıFké sJöizlhetrPiL mkartşıysında tnuptk*uD JtutFulWdduV.n
Konunun kadını olarak Demi'nin yanakları kızarmış, bir an için nerede olduğunu unutarak öfkeyle Blake'i işaret etmişti, "Pislik, sen neden bahsediyorsun!"
"Saçmalıyor muyum?" Blake elini kolayca Demi'nin omzuna koydu ve gazetecilerin duyabileceği bir sesle devam etti, "Geçen gece salonuma gelen sen değil miydin?"
"I ......" Demi sözlerinde boğuldu, önce kendisini sonra da onu işaret etti, "Sen!"
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Bu, Demi'nin Blake'in bunu bilerek yaptığını ve yemi yutmasını beklediğini fark etmesini sağlar!
Kalbindeki öfke patlaması Demi'nin yüzünün kızarmasına neden oldu ama sonra alaycı bir gülümseme yaydı.
Blake'le yüzleşirken hafifçe gülümsedi, bir eliyle onun kolunu kavradı ve ayağının arkasına basarak döndürdü ve tüm gücüyle ezdi.
"iUgRh!l"v XBlva*ke'xi$nZ $DFemPiH',nQiWn elyiniL tugtAuRşnu aYn_i,dAe$nV _serhtXlJesşir vXe_ yüÉz.ünqdDe YbNir, Iacbı AifaWdesiypl*e hTa!fiQfcçe emğ'ilir.$
İzleyenlere ikisi sadece birbirlerine samimi bir şekilde sarılmış ve hiçbir şey olmamış gibi görünse de Demi, Blake'in omuzlarındaki tutuş gücünden ne kadar acı çektiğini hissedebiliyordu.

Demi South elini kaldırdı, Blake Morgan'ın elini hızla tokatlayarak uzaklaştırdı, onun duruşunu taklit etti, kaşlarını kaldırdı, ağzının köşelerini hafifçe kaldırdı, "Efendi Morgan, lütfen kendinize gelin!"
Bitirdi, doğrudan küçük okul çantasının arkasına, kendi küçük bedenleriyle, hızla kalabalığın içinde sıkıştı, sanki ahlaksızca uçan bir kuş gibi, mutlu bir şekilde ...... kaçtı!
Bu sırada Blake'in etrafı bir grup hayran ve muhabirle çevrilidir, Demi'ye yetişemez, sadece sessizce arkasından bakabilir, alçak sesle mırıldanmaktan kendini alamaz.
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Sınıfın kapısını yavaşça iterek açtı ve doğruca oturduğu yere doğru yürüdü. Lise birinci sınıfa geç kayıt yaptırdığı için sınıf mevcudu tekti, bu yüzden sınıfta masası olmayan tek kişi oydu ve bu da onu biraz yalnız hissettiriyordu. Ancak Demi kendi masasında tek başına olmaktan mutluydu ve yalnız geçirdiği zamanın tadını çıkarıyordu.
Oturur oturmaz, önündeki çocuk gözlerinde dedikoducu bir parıltıyla sertçe döndü: "Hey, Blake Morgan'ı duydun mu? Blake Morgan'ın okulumuza geleceğini duydun mu?"
Demi masasının üzerindeki çekmeceden bir mendil çıkardı, masasını nazikçe sildi, sonra gözlerini devirdi ve "Geliyor, bana ne?" diye karşılık verdi.
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Çocuk göğsünü yumruklayarak kuşkuyla baktı, "Artık film yıldızıyla ilgilenmiyor musun? O en genç film yıldızı, film yıldızı! Hiç tepki vermiyor musun?"
Blake sadece yakışıklılığıyla değil, aynı zamanda oyunculuk becerileriyle de bugüne kadar geldi, bu yüzden hem erkekler hem de kızlar ona neredeyse taparcasına saygı duyuyor.
Demi onun sözleriyle başını kaldırdı, kaşları aniden ışıkla doldu, ses tonu aşırı derecede abartılıydı: "Vay canına, Tanrım! Film yıldızı gerçekten de okulumuza geldi, dört gözle bekliyorum! Ondan gerçekten hoşlanıyorum!"
EsrkDe,kflsezrh: .j.w.M.T..V
Tüm sınıf: ......
Demi konuşmasını bitirdikten sonra sınıfın sessizliğe gömüldüğünü ve herkesin farklı bakışlarla ona odaklandığını fark etti; bazıları gülüyor, bazıları sempati duyuyor, bazıları da gösteriyi izliyor gibiydi.
Utanmıştı, aslında öyle demek istememiştim! Sadece şaka yapıyordum, bana öyle bakma!
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Demi bir an dondu kaldı, başı anında kaskatı kesildi ve yavaşça kürsüye doğru döndü, sonunda öğretmenin nazik gülümsemesi ve bakışlarıyla karşılaştı ......Blake Morgan!
İçinden ince bir duygu dalgası geçti.

Ben de geleceğim!
Demi South'un gözleri büyüdü ve zihninde Blake Morgan'ın gözlerini dolduran küçümsemeyi, maskesi düşmüş çıplak alaycılığı gördüğüne yemin etti!
Öğretmen, öğrencilerin bu birbirine zıt davranışlarına aldırış etmemiş gibi görünüyordu ve Demi'ye şakalar yaptıktan sonra Blake'e dönerek, "Blake, neden kendini tanıtmıyorsun?" dedi.
BplaKke WbdaşÉıxnqıQ sa&llyad(ı ve Qs&ınıhfsaó,^ "BenS BGlhakNe 'MaorlgxaénF,c", deIdZiQ._
Bu basit sözler kısa ve özdü, Blake sakin bir yüzle podyumda durdu, ancak sınıftaki kadın hayranların çığlık atmasına neden olan bu hareketti.
"Pah-pah-pah!" O konuşur konuşmaz sınıfta büyük bir alkış tufanı koptu, özellikle de heyecandan kıpkırmızı kesilen kızlar "Blake, Blake, seni seviyoruz!" diye bağırdılar.
Bir süre ortalık karmakarışıktı.
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Ama bunun olmamasını umdukça, olmasını daha çok istiyordu.
Durumun kontrolden çıktığını gören öğretmen, Blake'in kendi yerini seçmesine izin verirken, kendisi de kürsüden kontrolden çıkan kızları kontrol etmeye çalıştı.
Kızlar Blake'in bir masa seçtiğini öğrendiklerinde, hepsi erkek akranlarını kovmaya ve idollerinin yanlarına oturmasına izin vermeye çalıştı. Erkekler üzgün görünüyordu, daha önce hiç böyle bir şeyin dışında bırakılmadıklarını düşünüyorlardı.
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Blake sınıfı taradı ve Demi'nin yanında boş bir koltuk ve arkada birkaç boş sıra olduğunu fark etti, yani kimse oraya oturmak istemiyor gibi görünüyordu.
Gözleri tarama sürecinde, sonunda varlığı azaltmaya çalışan Demi'ye kilitlendi, "......'dan beri"
Blake ağzını açtı ve kendini tanıtma dışında günün ilk cümlesini söyledi, hala tartışan kızlar hemen sessizleşti, idolün bir sonraki cümlesini dört gözle bekliyorlardı, Demi'nin kendi kendine düşünmeden edemediği bakışa bağlılık dolu, bu adam gerçekten bir baş belası!
"MadseÉm LoS öGğrrmenDci benQdeNn kbLu zkfadaró Hhgo^şKlanı*yor, ZoK pzafmCan bnen dBew ornnun^ yabnéın,a totulracGağıAm&!K"g Blarket IparZmağıyl&a Ddelmdi'y.i iÉşya)ryet edUerIek( şöjylUe daeadli.
Demi şok oldu, başını kaldırdı ve Blake'in ciddi bakışlarıyla karşılaştı, çaresizdi, "Bunu sadece benden çok hoşlandığın için yapıyorum" der gibiydi, bu da Demi'nin gerçekten gidip ona bir yumruk atmak istemesine neden oldu.
Ancak bu düşüncesini uygulamaya koyamadan sınıftaki kızların gözleri tarafından çoktan vurulmuştu.
Etrafına bakmaya cesaret edemedi, kızlar ona bakıyordu ve kitaplarıyla onları engellese bile soğuk baskıyı hissedebiliyordu.
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Bu eylem sınıfta başka bir kargaşaya neden oldu.
Öğretmen çaresizce başını salladı ve düzeni sağlamak için acele etti, "Sınıf, bugünden itibaren Blake sınıfımızın bir üyesi, herkesin gerçek kişiyi görmesi için hala birçok şans var, şimdi lütfen ondan ortama alışmasını isteyin, tamam mı?"
"Ha ha ha!" Öğrenciler öğretmenin güçlü şirinliğiyle eğleniyorlardı, gerçi hala Blake'e bakan birçok kişi vardı ama en azından az önceki kadar dikkat çekici değildi, ayrıca çok daha sessizdi.