FAMOUS

Zeynep Baysal took a deep breath; her feet ached inside the black shoes, and she cursed herself for following her sister's idea. She could still hear her sister murmuring in her ear.

"You need to look stunning! Do you know how many women dream of touching Emir Ozkurt? He's a star! My dream would be to be his romantic partner, and now your hands will touch him!"

"He's a snob... Some makeup artists told me he doesn't even say good morning."

"Oh, my beautiful Zeynep, you say good morning to him."

"Tuğba, don't bother me. Please."

The girl's thoughts were interrupted by his arrival. Emir Ozkurt entered the makeup room like a king, as was his custom. He looked disdainfully at the girl, who was very beautiful but visibly poor and probably without class. However, she held his gaze.

Emir looked at himself, and she assessed him with her blue eyes. He was quite tall, and yet he knew his walk was pleasant to watch. He then walked, teasing the poor girl.

He stared at her with slightly narrowed blue eyes, sat in the chair, and continued to stare.

"Miss, I know you're not used to seeing a man of my level, and I understand your admiration, but I must remind you that you're here to work."

"Thank goodness you reminded me, Mr. Ozkurt," Zeynep tried to smile; she couldn't miss the opportunity.

"Then do your job. Today, besides the soap opera launch, I have an award ceremony."

Zeynep analyzed Emir's skin, and the secret was to apply the least amount of product possible. He was truly handsome; he only needed a few details, like removing the shine and giving a blush, as he was very pale. She took two concealers and a translucent powder from her extensive palette and, confident, began to clean the star's skin. She used micellar water to remove excess oil, followed by thermal water.

Concealer was applied to the dark circles, probably he hadn't slept, and she finished with a bronzing powder to add some color. He opened his eyes, and Zeynep swallowed hard.

"Ready, Mr. Ozkurt."

"I've never seen you here; you're not going to tell me they left a rookie to fix me up!"

"No, Mr. Ozkurt, I'm an excellent makeup artist. I'm new here, but I'm already known in the industry."

Emir looked at the girl; she was indeed beautiful, with black hair tied in a samurai-style bun and blue eyes adorned with kohl. She seemed to have a well-proportioned body, as far as he could tell through the apron.

"What's your name?"

"Baysal, Zeynep Hazan Baysal."

"Hazan means autumn; it's a beautiful name. But Zeynep is stronger."

"Thank you, Mr. Emir Ozkurt."

"Tonight, if you're not busy, come to my room," Emir held her hand more intimately, which made her pull it away immediately.

"You can't touch me! What do you think I am?" she said indignantly.

"A girl who has the potential to be more than just a makeup artist... If you know how to be nice, of course."

Without thinking twice, Zeynep grabbed a utility knife from the table and struck Emir's left cheek.

"Are you crazy?" the young man's blue eyes sparked with fury.

"Do you think I'm one of those women who spend the night with you to be a headline in gossip news?"

"Of course not! They charge a hundred dollars an hour, and you wouldn't be worth a quarter of that," Emir stood up, and Zeynep huffed before leaving the room. She had barely taken two steps when Emir pulled her back.

"Who do you think you are to ignore me and leave like this? I am Emir Ozkurt!" Zeynep rolled her eyes.

"Mr. Ozkurt, then take advantage of the fact that your name buys women for a hundred dollars and pay for..."

"If I want, you'll be mine for a whole night. And it will be your blood staining my sheets, if you have anything that still stains anything."

"Mr. Ozkurt," Emir looked back and saw Murat; his eyes went from Emir to Zeynep and stopped at his friend's eyes.

"Murat, I..."

"Who is your friend this time? I've told you not to bring these women to the studio."

"Hey! Not these women! First, I'm not his friend; second, I work here. And third, I wouldn't walk with this kind even if he were the last man on Earth!"

"You don't need to lie to me; I don't judge anyone."

Zeynep left grumbling while Emir burst into laughter.

"Now seriously, Emir... Don't bring your flings to the studio; it damages your reputation with the production company, no matter how good an actor you are."

"She's not a fling; she..."

"All of them are..." he said disdainfully. "Now pay attention! Today is the launch of 'Stolen Love,' and you are the protagonist. Please, don't show up with a woman like that today; the protagonist is a lord based on Mr. Darcy. And that's the image you have to sell."

"Mr. Darcy," Emir rolled his eyes as he breathed heavily. "How many episodes again?"

"Fifty-three. Oh, don't start."

"Over a year pretending to be a prince? Featuring in teenage magazines? That's not what I want; I don't want to be just the pretty boy. I want to direct! Show what I know."

"It's not your time yet. You will be a great director, but today you are Alihan Imhotep, the Mr. Darcy of the East."

"So be it."

"Who hurt your face?"

"It was... It was me, accidentally cut myself."

Emir Ozkurt's thoughts sought Miss Baysal.

Zeynep was at the door of Channel 8, thinking she would be fired, but the complaint didn't come. On the contrary, she was given the address of the soap opera launch event, where she had to arrive before the cast.

She went home thinking about Mr. Ozkurt. He was undoubtedly very arrogant, using his fame as ammunition to treat women like garbage.

She couldn't say what people saw in him; a complete jerk who thought he was the last oasis in the deserts.

Zeynep couldn't stand men like him.

She took the bus and went home, her feet still hurting in the shoes.

She arrived in the neighborhood, and upon entering the house, she saw that she was alone. She took a quick shower and threw herself on the bed. She turned on the TV in her room, and the first thing that appeared was Emir Ozkurt on a gossip show.

"Women want to know how you got hurt..."

"Well," he blinked a few times and smiled at the host, "my cat scratched me; she's very feisty."

Zeynep laughed at that.

"What's the name of this wild cat..."

"Autumn."

Zeynep dropped the remote control on the floor just as her mother entered with her sister.

"Emir," Tuğba shouted at the TV, "look, Mom, how handsome he is."

"It's useless to look at men like Emir and sneak around with poor guys... Yasin will only give you this," Fazilet took cucumbers out of the bag while looking with disdain at the house.

"There's nothing wrong with dating Yasin, Mom," Zeynep intervened.

"Don't listen to your sister; look at her... Emir Ozkurt would never look at her, so she's resigned to those types in the neighborhood."

"I got an invitation for Tuğba."

"Great. Go, Tuğba, ask Bilnaz to do your hair, hurry. Hopefully, Emir Ozkurt will notice you."

Zeynep thought about telling her mother who Mr. Ozkurt was and gave up, just observing her sister leaving the house.

Tuğba went down to Bilnaz's house, not without sending a message through Yasin's sister about the party at Channel 8.

Little did she know that it would change the story.

Around seven o'clock in the evening, Tuğba and Zeynep were ready; they took a rental car, and while Tuğba headed to the main entrance, the elder sister entered through the employees' section.

After the entire cast was ready, she was allowed to go to the party.

The cocktail was lively and elegant; unconsciously, she looked for Emir Ozkurt and found him in a corner, flirting with Yasemin Hanım, his scene partner, and photographers took pictures of them. Zeynep went to the bar and ordered a glass of champagne.

While the bartender served her, she observed various drinks, and one of them caught her attention because black, long nails dropped a tablet into it, which quickly effervesced.

Her eyes remained on the glass, intending to warn the owner that something had been put in the drink. To her surprise, she saw Emir pick it up and bring it to his lips.

Zeynep ran to him; he stopped drinking and looked at her body marked in the dress.

"Don't look for me here; go to my room."

"Don't be foolish..."

"Girl, what is it? Do you want an autograph? Not now!" he raised his voice, and everyone looked at her, so she gave up.

"To hell with it!" Zeynep left the hall and went outside.

She spent some time watching the stars, heard applause and murmurs until she stood up to call Tuğba. That's when she saw Mr. Ozkurt standing near the exit; it took him a few minutes to leave the spot, and when he did, he was visibly unsteady. The star was heading to the car, and she noticed that he was visibly drunk.

How did that happen so quickly?

The young woman ran to stop the actor from taking the wheel, but she couldn't.

In less than five minutes, Zeynep heard the sound of squealing tires, followed by a crash.

She ran, as did others.

But it was Tuğba's screams that shook her... She pushed through the crowd, desperate, only to find Tuğba holding Yasin in her lap. Emir Ozkurt had run over her brother-in-law.