Clouds and Cigarettes: A FırBar Story

Note: This scene takes place after Barış and Fırat fall off the cliff at the end of Season 1.


Marseille, France
August 2022

Barış stood outside a sizeable boutique facing the seaside in the south of France. Rafi Bey's cartel connections granted them safe passage to Marseille. The city was a major European smuggling port, and a favourite destination of Savaş Yesari. Barış embraced the wrath of the August sun, squinting up at the name of the shop. He took off his emerald green sunglasses to read it: Clouds and Cigarettes.

It was a strange name but at this point he needed a new wardrobe. He looked at himself in the shop's glass window pane. Dirty black jeans, an oversized white t-shirt with numerous stains, and a tattered denim jacket. Almost everything he owned was left in Savaş' flat in Istanbul. Whatever was left would have ended up with Büge. He entered the shop and began to browse. He usually shopped with Sasha, who shared his obsession for fashion. It was strange to be without her for more than a few hours— let alone two months. Soon, Barış thought, we'll be reunited.

Barış' train of thought was broken by a store attendant. "Savaş Yesari? Are you alright? You don't look like yourself, monsieur". It took Barış a moment to register what was happening. He was being mistaken for Savaş, yet again.

Barış leaned into the short man, who was armed with only a thin moustache. "Actually, I've never felt more alive." Barış smiled.

The man began to explain. "Monsieur Yesari, we haven't seen you in over a year. I should let you know, you have some store credit."

"How much? I don't recall..." Barış replied, fishing for answers.

"Almost €17,000." The man replied.

Barış was shocked. "Why?"

"Well you bought a pair of wedding rings from our jewellery boutique. You wanted them engraved with the names Savaş and Ferda." Barış made the connection instantly. Savaş had always planned to blame Büge for the cartel's smuggling operation— after which he and Ferda intended to restart their lives in France.

"Right..." Barış confirmed sheepishly.

"Well you paid in full. But then you never arrived to pick them up. We had the gold melted down as engraved items cannot be returned. The only thing I can offer you is store credit." The attendant answered.

"I completely forgot about the rings." Barış shrugged. "I'll use my credit today."

Barış walked by the suits, looking at them with disdain. Never again, he thought. He and Savaş were both dead to the world. He picked up a handful of shirts, jackets, and jeans as well as several pairs of boots. Lastly, he found a transparent mesh shirt and immediately picked it up.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of buying that." A familiar voice trailed behind him.

Barış sniffed the air— it was unmistakeable. He smiled to himself. "You." Barış turned around, grinding his teeth. "How did you know I was here? How can you afford to be here? I heard my trial sent you to an early retirement." Barış taunted. He hadn't blinked since seeing Fırat.

"If you can stalk me, maybe I have ways to stalk you too." Fırat said. "I know you're returning to Istanbul. I'll be waiting for you at the airport, handcuffs at the ready. You remember how that feels, don't you?" Fırat smiled.

"You'll be waiting a lifetime Savcı." Barış smiled. "Barış Yesari is dead, and everyone knows: you can't arrest a dead man."

"Maybe. But I'll be the one to send you to your grave, however long it takes." Fırat smiled for the first time, moving a step closer to Barış from across the showroom.