Joe tossed his PlayStation controller onto the sofa, reaching immediately for his cellphone. Fingers tapping with a sense of anticipation, he launched the Instagram app, swiftly typing 'Shea' into the search bar. Numerous Sheas popped up, but Instagram had refined its search algorithm to primarily display people and brands. It was certainly an improvement over his previous Google searches.
Scrolling leisurely, Joe examined each profile picture carefully. Occasionally, he'd delve into the profiles of those who bore a passing resemblance to his Shea – the same face, or a similar posture. If he encountered private accounts, he'd take screenshots, enlarging their profile pictures in his gallery for a clearer view.
Joe's body shifted from the sofa, where he often engaged in PlayStation marathons, to lying on it, then resting with one foot on the sofa and the other on the floor. He migrated to his bedroom, perching at the end of the bed, leaning against the headboard, laying on his stomach, and eventually settling on his back. It was a marathon of positions, during which, only the heavens knew how many times he'd taken bathroom breaks.
His eyes grew heavy, but his determination held steadfast. Joe remained patient, meticulously exploring every profile. As he scrolled upward, a particular profile picture grabbed his attention – a girl donning a white t-shirt with striking pink hair. Her face resembled that of the girl he had met at the restaurant a week ago, except for the vivid hair color. But this girl was following him.
Confusion fogged Joe's thoughts. His eyes throbbed with fatigue. He stared blankly at the wall, contemplating how many Sheas out there could share that same uncanny resemblance. Meanwhile, this pink-haired girl's account was locked. Requesting a follow would be harmless if she was indeed the right person, but if not, his account, adorned with a coveted blue tick, might be at risk. The thought of potential media attention tormented him.
On the flip side, if he didn't send a follow request, what if she was the one he was seeking? He might be forfeiting his sole chance of reuniting with her.
His gaze remained fixed on the wall as he wrestled with his decision. Suddenly, the call to prayer, the Adhan, echoed from outside, signaling that it was approximately 4:30 AM in Istanbul. Joe inhaled deeply, his heart pounding, and pressed the "Follow" button. In his mind, he vowed to unfollow her promptly if she turned out not to be the elusive Shea.
As it was now early morning, Joe's eyes were bloodshot and weary. He intended to sleep, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the pink-haired girl. Placing his cellphone on the bedside table, he lay down and closed his eyes. Yet, after a mere second, he retrieved his phone, sending a direct message to the pink-haired girl, "Hey, did you visit Istanbul Cevahir last week?" He stared at the message for what felt like an eternity before finally summoning the courage to hit send.
Joe returned his phone to the table and lay back, eyes fixated on the ceiling, blinking aimlessly. His quest to find Shea continued, both in the digital realm and in his restless thoughts.