“my family taught me to pour a drink with a steady hand and lie with an even steadier one.”
name: leyla naz demirci
age: thirty-one
dob: june 12th
gender: cisfemale
sexuality: heterosexual
hometown: windsor bay
neighborhood: downtown
occupation: co-owner & creative director of poshed & sloshed
personality: perceptive, composed, loyal, guarded, superstitious, obsessive
born to kıvanç and sevda demirci, leyla grew up in the dim glow of poshed & sloshed, the speakeasy her family has owned for generations. kıvanç ran the business with quiet precision until his health declined, while sevda managed the public-facing side of the demirci name with grace and iron discipline. both raised leyla to respect the family’s history, though they never quite agreed on how much of that history should be questioned. her grandmother was the true spark behind leyla’s fixation on town myths and the long-erased hawthorne family. she filled leyla’s childhood with strange symbols, whispered stories, and warnings disguised as folklore. now, leyla has returned from years in istanbul studying art history and mythology to help care for her father. co-owner and creative director of poshed & sloshed, she protects the family legacy by day and quietly investigates its forgotten corners by night, following the threads her grandmother left behind.
keeps a hidden notebook of town legends, myths, and recorded accounts of hawthorne sightings dating back to 1902
her handwriting matches the ledger of a demirci ancestor from 1899, a coincidence she refuses to talk about
claims to have seen strange lights near the cliffs of coral coast one night but refuses to describe them
still burns the same blend of incense her grandmother used during storms “to keep the dead calm”
has a soft spot for skeptics. she loves watching them question what they don’t believe in
occasionally closes poshed and sloshed for “private events” that no one in town ever seems invited to
playlist
wanted connections
the hawthorne ghost
someone whose family history might tie back to the missing hawthornes, whether they know it or not. leyla watches them with equal parts suspicion and fascination. maybe they have a symbol, heirloom, birthmark, or story that mirrors something she found in the demirci archives.
the ex who knows too much
an old lover who once stumbled too close to the demirci secrets. they ended things because leyla “wasn’t honest,” but they never knew what she was hiding. now they’re back in windsor bay; smarter, older, and more curious.
the rival historian
a researcher, librarian, or folklore enthusiast who wants access to the demirci archives. leyla refuses, so now they’re determined to out-research, out-smart, or out-dig her.
the speakeasy regular
someone who’s become a fixture at poshed and sloshed. the kind who knows every staff member, every hidden booth, every unlisted cocktail. they notice leyla’s patterns, her late nights, even her unexplained bruises or ink-stained fingers.
the wrong kind of crime
someone involved in windsor bay’s underbelly; smuggling, forged documents, relic theft, illegal auctions. they catch leyla investigating something she shouldn’t. she catches them doing something they really shouldn’t.
the childhood friend she outgrew
someone who grew up climbing the cliffs with her, sneaking into the speakeasy’s basement, sharing secrets under pine trees. leyla left at eighteen; they felt abandoned. the reunion is awkward, strained… but familiar.
the person who hates the founding families
someone whose family suffered because of the original twelve; economically, socially, generationally. they assume leyla is entitled, privileged, or complicit in old injustices. they don’t realize she feels trapped by her lineage too.
the one who got too close
a lover or almost-lover who sensed that leyla was wrapped in something bigger than she admitted. they didn’t push then. they might now.
the nonbeliever
someone who thinks the hawthorne mystery is just a bunch of old-town theatrics. leyla’s obsession fascinates them and they poke at it, tease her for it. but the first time they see something strange, they run straight to her.
the one person she trusts too much
someone she tells things she shouldn’t. someone who feels safe, grounding, real. the risk? if anyone could unravel her whole story… it would be them.
