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INT. THE RED ROOM
The room is dimly lit, casting shadows on the deep red and black walls. The air is thick with tension and desire. The BED is the centerpiece, adorned with dark silk sheets.
BARIS stands over LEILA, who is restrained and vulnerable, her wrists bound by leather cuffs. Barış's gaze is intense, his touch deliberate, as he undresses. The passion between them is palpable, but there's an underlying darkness in Barış's eyes.
As Barış moves toward Leila, his hands and lips exploring her body with a practiced, almost mechanical precision, a dark memory surfaces in his mind. His expression changes, and he becomes distant, lost in his thoughts.
The flashback of a young Barış , around 8 years old, is hiding under a bed. His eyes are wide with fear and confusion as he watches a horrifying scene unfold. His FATHER lies on the floor, weak and poisoned, gasping for breath. His MOTHER, a cold and calculating woman, stands above him, her heel pressed firmly on his father's chest.
MOTHER (voice cold and resolute) You see, my dear, this is what happens when you trust someone who's been planning your downfall for years. I loved you, but it was all a lie. Now, you pay the price.
The young boy's eyes fill with tears as he watches his mother's ruthless confession. The scene is gruesome and heart-wrenching, the image of his father's pain and his mother's betrayal burned into his memory.
Physical on the bed, Barış's breathing is heavy and ragged as he thrusts into Leila. His movements are driven by a mix of raw emotion and a desperate need to escape his past. The physical intensity of their encounter contrasts sharply with the emotional numbness in his eyes.
Leila, bound and helpless, is clearly in pain, her body reacting to Barış's forceful movements. But he is disconnected, his mind replaying the traumatic memory of his father's death and his mother's betrayal.
Barış's face is a mask of anguish, his eyes distant as he loses himself in the act, trying to drown out the echoes of his past. The room's oppressive atmosphere seems to amplify his inner turmoil, making his actions more intense and reckless.
LEILA gasps, her voice strained as she cries out in pain. "Barış... please..."
Barış doesn't respond, his focus entirely on the painful release he's seeking, his body moving with a desperate rhythm. His hands grip the bedposts tightly, the physical exertion matching the emotional storm raging inside him.
Outside, the night is calm and silent, a stark contrast to the chaos within. The distant sound of Leila's cries is muffled by the thick walls, leaving only the harsh reality of Barış's tortured past and present.
As Barış reaches his climax, his face contorts with a mix of relief and torment. The pain of his past is momentarily overshadowed by the physical release, but the darkness remains. He collapses beside Leila, his breathing heavy and uneven.
Leila lies on the bed, her body trembling, her eyes filled with a mixture of shock and pain. The room falls into an uneasy silence, the echoes of Barış's past lingering in the heavy air.
Barış stares up at the ceiling, his mind still trapped in the memory of his father's suffering and his mother's betrayal. The room, once a sanctuary of desire, now feels like a cage of torment and revenge.
"Untie me... please," she begged, her voice trembling.
For a moment, Barış didn't move. He rarely considered the aftermath of these moments—the pain he inflicted, the emotional wreckage he left behind. But something in Leila's voice snapped him back to reality. He rose slowly and untied the leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles, watching her wince as her limbs regained freedom.
Leila scrambled to sit up, grabbing her scattered clothes in a hurry, her fingers trembling as she dressed. She didn't look at him—didn't dare. Her eyes were wide with a mix of fear, disgust, and shock. Barış, still seated on the edge of the bed, stared blankly as she fumbled with her clothes. This was familiar territory for him. The cold detachment, the way the women always rushed to leave afterward. He had never cared enough to stop them.
But this time felt different.
Leila didn't waste a second. As soon as she was dressed, she bolted for the door, her footsteps echoing loudly on the wooden floors. Barış rose to his feet and followed her, more out of instinct than any real desire to stop her. He didn't plan on apologizing. What was there to apologize for? This was what he did—what he always did. It was the only way he knew how to release the pain.
But as Leila rushed down the stairs, something shifted. Barış followed her, his steps slow and deliberate. It wasn't regret that pulled him forward, not guilt or concern. Yet, a knot tightened in his chest, something unfamiliar, something unsettling. He couldn't name it, but it gnawed at him as he watched her flee.
Leila reached the bottom of the stairs in a frenzy, panting, and in her desperation to escape, she collided with someone in the hallway—a woman. They both stumbled, wide-eyed, and froze.
A beautiful black woman stood before Leila, dressed in nothing but silk pajamas. Her hair was wild, and her expression innocent and unguarded. She blinked, confused by the sudden encounter. The soft lighting of the hallway made her skin glow, her delicate features caught between concern and surprise. Leila's heart pounded in her chest, and for a moment, both women just stood there, stunned.
Leila's gaze shifted upwards, towards the top of the stairs, where Barış stood watching them. His heart sank the moment his eyes locked with Joy's. Shit. This was the one thing he never wanted.
Joy stood there, barefoot and vulnerable, her pajamas clinging to her frame. She looked between Barış and Leila, confusion flashing in her eyes.
Leila, sensing the tension, took her opportunity and pushed past Joy, sprinting out of the house without a word, without looking back. The front door slammed behind her, leaving only silence and the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air.