🥤 Chapter 2: The Shared Soda
The Seven Eleven on the corner of Yeonnam-dong was always warm.14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOoAHE3lUZw
Or maybe it just felt that way because of the heater. Or the silence. Or the fact that Erica could sit there without anyone staring—because no one bothered with a girl who wore sunglasses indoors and never looked up.
She came in crying that night. Again.
She didn’t know why. Or maybe she did.
Her hands found the cold shelf and reached out. A bottle. Smooth. Wet with condensation. She opened it with a snap and sipped before even checking what it was. The sweetness and fizz stung her throat.
Coke.
"Sh*t," a voice whispered behind her, surprised—but not mad.
She froze. The bottle trembled in her hands.
“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, blinking under her glasses. “I didn’t—”
“It’s okay.”
She turned slowly. A man. Filipino accent. Gentle tone. A little breathless.
“You can finish it,” he said.
“What?” Erica asked.
“I think… you need it more than I do.”
She didn’t reply. Just stood there, bottle still in hand, unsure if she should apologize or put it back.
He didn’t move. He didn’t judge. He just stood quietly, holding a pack of instant noodles and a warm fishcake bun in one hand. His hoodie looked worn. His sneakers had seen better years. But his voice—his voice was kind.
Erica wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and took one more sip before placing the bottle down on the counter.
"Thank you,” she whispered, not expecting to be heard.
But he heard. Every syllable.
She turned to leave.
He moved before her, reaching the door first. Without a word, he opened it for her, holding it wide like it was the most natural thing in the world. She stepped past him, the cold night air stinging her cheeks.
“Take care,” he murmured.
She paused.
She wanted to ask his name.
But she didn’t. And neither did he.
Two strangers. One soda. A single thread tied between silence and sorrow.
And just like that, Erica walked back into the dark—
—while Jepoy stood at the doorway, watching a woman who couldn’t see him…
…but somehow, already felt familiar.
ns216.73.216.251da2
