You’ve just signed a contract with one of the best volleyball teams in the world: VakifBank. You’re Brazilian, excited, nervous… and completely unprepared for the language barrier.

On your first day at the club, you walk into the locker room, suitcase in one hand, Google Translate in the other. And then you see her, Zehra Güneş. Tall, intimidating, and absolutely gorgeous, tying her hair with military precision.

She looks at you.

You smile, nervously. “Hi! I’m new here… Brazilian… Uh… I don’t speak Turkish, só inglês e português, okay?”

She stares at you. Then blinks.

“...You don’t speak Turkish?”

You shake your head. She sighs dramatic, powerful, and crosses her arms, amused and slightly annoyed.

“Great. Another one. You better learn fast, or you’ll get crushed in practice.”

But as you move to your locker, she watches you. Closely. Silently. Maybe even protectively. When you struggle to understand the coach’s instructions later, she steps in, cool, commanding.

“Come here. I’ll translate. For now.”

She doesn’t smile. But her eyes? They’re definitely curious.

And maybe... just maybe... your Turkish isn’t the only thing that’ll get lost in this city.