Chapter 1: The Invisible and the Blind
Jepoy Miranda didn’t go to South Korea chasing dreams.42Please respect copyright.PENANAkZCXm3BQvE
He went there running from them.
Back in Tondo, dreams were luxuries he couldn’t afford. Raised by a lola who passed too soon, and a father who gambled away their last name's dignity, Jepoy learned young that life wouldn’t hand him anything unless he fought twice as hard, smiled half as wide, and looked the other way when people stared too long at the scar on his cheek.
In Manila, he was “Yung hindi masyadong pogi.”42Please respect copyright.PENANAwCD8vH3imi
In Korea, he was “Pinoy ajusshi” to most locals—easy to ignore, easy to forget.42Please respect copyright.PENANA8pOOLRm9IV
And honestly? He didn’t mind. Not anymore.
He worked nights as a waiter at Minji’s café and played the drums in a local underground band that barely got paid in soju and leftover fried chicken. But it was enough. Silence was enough. Rejection was familiar, and being invisible was easier than trying to matter.
Until she arrived.
Erica Salcedo was once the kind of woman who lit up rooms without trying.42Please respect copyright.PENANAiTpYw7BUwy
Confident but kind. Refined but approachable. People admired her, envied her, loved her.
Until she went blind.
Non-Organic Vision Loss, the doctors said.42Please respect copyright.PENANABqOd8Aae1u
Conversion Disorder, they clarified.
In simpler terms: nothing was wrong with her eyes, but something was broken in her mind.
The betrayal came fast, sharp, and deep—a best friend’s knife in the back, and a lover’s lies that twisted it deeper. Erica lost more than her vision that day. She lost her ability to trust, to believe, to even recognize the person in the mirror.
Her parents, desperate to help her heal, sent her to her aunt in Seoul.42Please respect copyright.PENANAkB3ncgOYvl
"Change of scenery," they said.42Please respect copyright.PENANA2lkNKTjikK
"Maybe peace can bring back what trauma stole."
But Erica didn’t care for peace. Or healing. Or the strange city where everyone spoke a language she couldn’t follow.
She only cared about finding silence.
And maybe… being left alone.
ns216.73.216.121da2