Chapter 1 – The Awakening
Jepoy never considered himself special. He was the kind of guy who blended into the background like an old calendar hanging in a sari-sari store—familiar, but not remarkable. He wasn’t ugly, but he wasn’t striking either. He wasn’t dumb, but he never exactly won any quiz bees. Life, for him, was a constant middle ground.
Until one Tuesday morning.
The rooster in their neighbor’s backyard screamed like a banshee, jolting Jepoy awake. He groaned, rolled over, and accidentally smacked his phone off the bedside table. As he reached down to grab it, something utterly bizarre happened.
The phone… floated.
Not dramatically, not like in the movies where it would rise in a majestic glow. No, this was awkward, like a drunk man trying to stand up. The phone jerked, wobbled midair, then spun like a dying electric fan blade.
“Put—ang ina?!” Jepoy yelped, nearly falling out of bed.
The phone dropped onto his face. Hard.
That’s when he realized it wasn’t just the phone. His pillow was hovering. His blanket was dancing like a limp flag. His underwear—thankfully clean—was swirling in the air like a sad, polyester ghost.
Jepoy screamed. His mother, from the next room, yelled back.
“Hoy, Jepoy! Ano na namang kabalbalan ‘yan?”
“Nay!” Jepoy panicked, swatting at the floating objects which fell instantly to the ground. “Wala po! Nanaginip lang ako!”
Except he wasn’t dreaming. His room looked like a crime scene after a poltergeist party.
Jepoy sat on the edge of his bed, heart pounding, palms sweaty. “Okay, chill lang, Jepoy. Wala lang ‘to. Maybe… low blood sugar.” He shoved a pandesal in his mouth, hoping carbs could exorcise whatever nonsense just happened.
But when he sneezed—loud, nasal, catastrophic—the pandesal launched out of his hand and splattered against the wall.
“Sh*t,” Jepoy whispered.
Somehow, overnight, he had woken up with a superpower.101Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd1ZJHIJaRL
And it was stupid.
Chapter 2 – Daily Disaster
By lunchtime, Jepoy had confirmed three things about his new “gift”:
It only worked when he got emotional—panic, laughter, sneezes, anything with intensity.
The objects never floated gracefully; they just… spasmed. Like epileptic karaoke lights.
He had absolutely no control.
He tried to brush it off. After all, he had work. Jepoy was a low-level graphic artist in a small print shop. Nothing heroic, just endless layouts of tarpaulins with “HAPPY 7TH BIRTHDAY ZYHRIELLE” in Comic Sans.
“Pre, okay ka lang?” his officemate Randy asked as Jepoy entered the shop, pale and jittery.
“Oo naman,” Jepoy lied, clutching his backpack like a life raft.
It would have been fine—except his boss, the perpetually cranky Mang Roque, stormed in holding a client’s order.
“Jepoy! Ba’t ‘yung banner para sa debut, may picture ng kabayo?!”
Before Jepoy could explain, he laughed nervously—and the stapler on his desk shot across the room, narrowly missing Mang Roque’s forehead.
“PUTANG—!” Mang Roque ducked.
The entire shop froze. Randy dropped his coffee. The secretary screamed. Jepoy slapped both hands on the desk, sweating buckets.
“Sorry po! Sorry po! Nahulog lang!” he babbled.
Mang Roque glared like a man ready to commit homicide. “Isa pa, Jepoy, and ikaw ang gagawin kong kabayo.”
Jepoy forced a grin. “Noted po.”
By 5PM, he was mentally and physically drained. He hadn’t just stapler-attacked his boss; he also made three cups float during merienda, caused the photocopier lid to slam repeatedly like it was possessed, and accidentally launched a roll of bond paper out the window where it smacked an innocent tricycle driver.
The power wasn’t cool. It was catastrophic.
On his jeepney ride home, Jepoy slumped against the railing. A pretty girl in a floral dress hopped in and sat across him. She had long, shiny hair, gentle eyes, and the kind of smile that made time pause. Jepoy’s heart jolted.
It was Ciara.
She lived a few barangays away. They weren’t close, but they had mutual friends. He knew her as “that girl who could make palengke look like a fashion runway.”
And right when he smiled nervously at her—his backpack unzipped on its own, spewing pens, coins, and crumpled receipts into the air.
Everyone in the jeepney gasped.
Ciara’s eyes widened. Jepoy, red as a tomato, scrambled to grab his belongings, muttering excuses. “Uh, static… ano… hangin lang po ‘to.”
Ciara stifled a laugh. “You okay?”
“Y-Yeah,” Jepoy croaked, wishing the jeepney would just drive into the sea.
Chapter 3 – Ciara Enters
The universe, in its cruel humor, decided to push Jepoy and Ciara closer together the next day.
They met again—this time at the barangay’s community library, where Ciara volunteered as a part-time assistant. Jepoy only wanted to return a borrowed book (actually, it was two years overdue, but he hoped no one noticed).
“Jepoy?” Ciara blinked in surprise as he approached the counter.
“Oh, hi,” Jepoy said, clutching the book like a shield.
Ciara smiled, and Jepoy’s insides somersaulted. She looked effortlessly radiant, wearing a simple blouse and ponytail. He opened his mouth to speak—then sneezed.
Every book on the counter leapt two feet into the air.
Ciara shrieked, ducking as an atlas nearly smacked her. Jepoy scrambled to catch flying dictionaries, but they kept bouncing around like possessed basketballs.
In the chaos, Ciara crouched beside him, laughing breathlessly. “What the heck is happening?”
Jepoy wanted to melt into the floor. “It’s, uh… allergy. Sa alikabok.”
“Grabe namang allergy ‘yan,” Ciara teased, handing him a paperback.
Their hands brushed. Jepoy felt his chest tighten, half from panic, half from something else. Ciara didn’t recoil. She just looked amused, like she was watching a puppy trip over its own paws.
When the last book settled, Jepoy exhaled. “Sorry. I’m… kind of a walking disaster lately.”
Ciara tilted her head, studying him. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Makes life exciting, di ba?”
For the first time since his bizarre awakening, Jepoy laughed genuinely.
But in the back of his mind, he knew this was only the beginning. His superpower wasn’t just inconvenient—it was a ticking time bomb. And if Ciara kept getting closer… she’d be caught in the blast.
Chapter 4 – The Pursuit
Jepoy had decided, with all the bravery of a man armed with nothing but bad luck and floating underwear, that he would pursue Ciara.
“Kung may superpower ako,” he told himself in the mirror, “baka ito na ang dahilan. Baka ito na ang sign… para sa kanya.”
The mirror wobbled, trembled, then fell off the wall. Jepoy winced.101Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPuaUfntOdU
“Or… baka sumpa lang talaga.”
Still, he gathered courage. For the first time in his life, he volunteered at the barangay library just to be near Ciara. He pretended he was passionate about community service, but in truth, the only “service” he wanted was shelving books next to her.
Ciara, ever kind, didn’t question his sudden enthusiasm. She gave him stacks of novels and instructed him where to place them. Jepoy, grinning like a fool, tried to act casual—until a sneeze sent the entire “Harry Potter” collection flying into the ceiling.
Ciara laughed so hard she nearly fell off her chair. “Ikaw talaga, parang may sariling magic!”
Her laughter was like music. Jepoy’s embarrassment was worth it just to hear that sound.
He thought maybe, just maybe, he had a chance.
Chapter 5 – The Rival
But fate is cruel.
One evening, after library duty, Jepoy saw Ciara walking outside, her face glowing under the streetlights. His heart raced as he approached—only to freeze when a tall, well-groomed man appeared and casually draped an arm around her shoulder.
“Ciara!” the man said warmly. “Sorry I’m late. Dinner tayo?”
Her face lit up. “Finally! Akala ko you forgot.”
Jepoy’s stomach plummeted. He recognized the guy: Marco. The barangay’s golden boy. Athlete, scholar, future engineer. The kind of man who looked like he was born to be in toothpaste commercials.
Ciara introduced them with a smile. “Oh, Jepoy! This is Marco, my… uh…” She hesitated just a little, then finished, “…friend.”
Marco extended a hand, firm and confident. Jepoy shook it weakly, half-expecting his power to fling Marco into a lamppost. Thankfully, it didn’t—though the lamppost light did flicker ominously.
As they walked away together, Jepoy stood there, hollow.
He was a man cursed with a ridiculous power. Marco was a man blessed with everything Jepoy wasn’t. And Ciara… Ciara wanted Marco.
That night, Jepoy lay awake staring at his ceiling. The fan above him shook, rattled, then suddenly unscrewed itself and clattered to the floor. Jepoy didn’t even flinch.
“Superpower nga,” he muttered, “pero powerless pa rin ako.”
Chapter 6 – Comedy of Pain
Jepoy, however, refused to give up. Love makes fools of men, and Jepoy was already halfway there.
He tried little gestures. Carrying Ciara’s bag after library duty (which unfortunately floated midair when he got nervous). Offering to buy her snacks (the kwek-kwek balls rolled out of the stick like orange grenades across the street). Singing at a barangay karaoke night (where his mic suddenly sparked and exploded, nearly deafening everyone).
Ciara laughed each time. “You’re so funny, Jepoy.”
But never once did she look at him the way she looked at Marco.
It was tragic, in the way of slapstick comedies. Jepoy could make an entire street laugh with his clumsy accidents, but Ciara’s heart—Ciara’s real, serious heart—was elsewhere.
And every time he saw them together, every time Ciara’s eyes softened at Marco’s smile, Jepoy felt his insides twist. His power, unstable as it was, seemed to mirror his emotions: the more his heart broke, the more chaotic the world around him became.
Once, he saw Ciara and Marco sharing turon outside the sari-sari store. Jepoy clenched his fists—and the entire shelf of canned sardines inside toppled over with a crash.
Mang Roque, who happened to be buying load, pointed at him. “Ikaw na naman, Jepoy!”
Jepoy walked away, shoulders slumped.
It was official. He was a hero in the wrong story.
Not the story where he gets the girl. Not the story where his powers make him strong.
But the story where he learns that sometimes, love is not about winning. Sometimes, it’s about watching—helplessly, tragically—as the girl you love smiles at someone else.
Chapter 7 – Rock Bottom
Jepoy had always been clumsy, but lately, he was becoming a walking public hazard.
It started with the basketball game at the barangay court. He didn’t even want to be there, but Randy dragged him out “para makalimutan mo si Ciara.” Jepoy agreed, hoping sports might distract him.
Big mistake.
The moment Jepoy touched the ball, it started spinning uncontrollably in his hands. He panicked, flung it away—and the ball shot like a bullet into the judge’s whistle, lodging it in the man’s mouth.
Everyone screamed.
“Hoy, Jepoy! Ano ‘yan, kalokohan?!” the referee sputtered, spitting plastic shards.
The game dissolved into chaos. Jepoy slunk to the edge of the court, face redder than a ripe tomato.
And of course, just his luck—Ciara and Marco were there. Marco had been invited to play; he looked every bit the golden boy, dribbling smoothly, girls cheering his every move. Beside him, Ciara clapped politely, her eyes sparkling.
When Jepoy stumbled past them, sweating like he had run a marathon, Ciara smiled gently.
“Are you okay? You always look like you’re in trouble.”
Jepoy forced a laugh. “Trouble and I… best friends na kami.”
Ciara chuckled. Marco, though, gave a tight smile, like he wasn’t sure if Jepoy was a joke or a threat.
That night, Jepoy lay in bed again, staring at his ceiling. His powers stirred with his mood: the lightbulb flickered, the electric fan rotated in reverse, and his slippers floated like mocking ghosts.
He buried his face in his pillow. “Bakit ba ako ganito?”
He was supposed to feel special. He had powers, for crying out loud. But instead of saving lives or becoming a hero, he was a one-man blooper reel. The more he wanted to impress Ciara, the more he looked like the barangay’s resident clown.
And the cruelest part? Ciara didn’t even see it. She thought he was funny. She thought he was harmless. She never thought he could be the man she wanted.
That honor belonged to Marco.
Chapter 8 – The Birthday Party
It all came to a head at Ciara’s birthday party.
The barangay hall was decorated with pastel balloons and cheap fairy lights. Tables overflowed with pancit, fried chicken, and tubs of ice cream melting in the summer heat. Everyone was there—neighbors, officemates, even Mang Roque (who only came for the free food).
Jepoy arrived late, clutching a gift wrapped in old newspaper. His heart pounded as he stepped inside, scanning for Ciara. He saw her instantly—radiant in a simple dress, laughing at something Marco whispered in her ear.
Jepoy’s chest tightened. Still, he pushed forward.
“Happy birthday,” he said, holding out the gift.
Ciara smiled, genuinely touched. “Aw, thanks, Jepoy! You didn’t have to.”
Marco, standing beside her, glanced at the crumpled wrapping, then at Jepoy, and gave a polite nod. Jepoy felt smaller than ever.
The night should have ended there. But no—his cursed powers had other plans.
During the group photo session, Jepoy found himself squeezed beside Ciara and Marco. The photographer shouted, “Smile!”
Jepoy did. But as the flash went off, his nerves exploded—literally. The cake behind them shot up into the air, flipping over and landing face-first on Marco’s head.
Gasps filled the hall. Someone screamed. Marco stood there, icing dripping down his perfectly ironed polo.
Ciara’s jaw dropped. “Marco!”
Jepoy froze. His powers, sensing his panic, went haywire: balloons popped one by one, plates rattled off the tables, and the sound system blared static like a horror movie jump scare.
Everyone stared at him.
“Jepoy!” Mang Roque bellowed, pancit dangling from his lips. “Ano ka ba, kamalasan incarnate?!”
Jepoy wanted to disappear. Instead, he bolted out of the hall, humiliation burning hotter than any candle on that ruined cake.
He ran until his lungs gave out, collapsing near the basketball court. Tears blurred his vision.
All his life, he’d been ordinary. Now he was extraordinary—but in the worst possible way. He had a power no one wanted. A heart that no one wanted.
And in that moment, under the broken streetlight flickering above, Jepoy whispered the truth he’d been avoiding:
“Maybe… I’m really just the punchline in someone else’s story.”
Chapter 9 – Operation Impress Ciara
After the birthday disaster, Jepoy locked himself in his room for two days. He swore he wouldn’t show his face again.
But then Randy, ever the terrible life coach, said:101Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxtZegCOd0N
“Pre, kung gusto mong makuha si Ciara, kailangan mo siyang i-impress. Wag kang magpatalo kay Marco. Labanan mo, parang teleserye!”
Jepoy groaned. “Pre, sa teleserye, pogi yung bida. Ako? May superpower lang… pero parang defective.”
“Eh ‘di gamitin mo ‘yan!” Randy insisted. “Gawin mong style. Gawin mong paandar.”
Against his better judgment, Jepoy listened.
The next day, he “accidentally” bumped into Ciara outside the library. She was carrying grocery bags, struggling under the weight. Perfect chance! Jepoy puffed out his chest.
“Let me help you with that,” he said suavely.
Ciara smiled, relieved. “Thanks, Jepoy!”
He grabbed the bags—and immediately, the apples inside levitated out, rolling midair like planets orbiting his head. Ciara gasped. Jepoy panicked, trying to swat them back in, but the bread loaf joined the orbit, then the canned sardines, then the instant noodles.
A dog ran by, barking and jumping to catch the floating sardines. Ciara burst out laughing so hard she doubled over.
“Ang kulit mo talaga!” she said between giggles.
Jepoy forced a grin while the dog finally bit open the sardines, showering the sidewalk with tomato sauce. His attempt at heroism had turned into slapstick.
Again.
Chapter 10 – Karaoke Catastrophe
A week later, the barangay held a karaoke contest. Jepoy wasn’t planning to join, but when he saw Ciara and Marco sitting together in the front row, something inside him snapped.
“Pwede ako diyan,” he told the host, grabbing the mic.
The crowd cheered. Jepoy straightened his shoulders. This was it—his moment. He would sing his heart out, show Ciara he was more than a walking accident.
The music started. He opened his mouth.
And the microphone exploded in sparks.
The speakers blared like a dying robot. The disco lights spun out of control, blinding everyone. Plastic chairs levitated in rows, spinning like a UFO formation.
“PUTANG INA, APOCALYPSE NA!” someone screamed.
Children cried. The barangay captain prayed the rosary. Meanwhile, Jepoy stood center stage, horrified, as his powers turned a simple karaoke night into a low-budget disaster movie.
Ciara rushed forward, grabbing his arm. “Jepoy, what’s happening?!”
“I—uh—I’m just really passionate about singing?” Jepoy squeaked.
Marco appeared, pulling Ciara protectively behind him. “Stay away from her, Jepoy! You’re dangerous!”
That word—dangerous—stabbed Jepoy straight in the chest.
He dropped the mic, fled the stage, and disappeared into the night while the barangay hall descended into chaos.
Later, lying flat on his bed, ceiling fan shaking ominously above him, Jepoy whispered bitterly:
“Superpower daw. Pero parang curse lang talaga.”
He was no hero. He was a joke.101Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0XYzGrXAyv
And the joke was running out of punchlines.
Chapter 11 – The Breaking Point
Jepoy stopped showing up at the library. Stopped joining barangay events. Even Randy noticed.
“Pre,” Randy said over fishballs at the kanto stand, “parang nawawala ka na sa sarili mo.”
Jepoy just stared at the sauce dripping from his stick. “Maybe that’s better. Kung mawala ako, wala nang madadamay.”
He meant Ciara, of course. Because every time he tried to be near her, chaos followed. He wanted to be her hero, but he only ever embarrassed her—or worse, put her in danger.
The breaking point came one rainy evening. Jepoy saw Ciara hurrying home under a small umbrella, Marco trailing beside her. Jepoy, hiding under a sari-sari store tarp, felt the ache in his chest.
And then he sneezed.
The umbrella ripped out of Ciara’s hand, flew skyward like a rocket, and impaled itself on an electric post. Water poured down on her and Marco, drenching them completely.
Marco shouted, furious. Ciara just stood there, stunned. Jepoy, guilt flooding his veins, ran before they saw him.
That night, soaked to the bone, he whispered to himself:101Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡywzYUArlpk
“I’m not her hero. I’m just her storm.”
Chapter 12 – The Wrong Story
Days later, Jepoy decided he’d had enough. He would tell Ciara the truth, not about his powers, but about his heart.
He found her at the library, shelving books alone. His hands trembled as he approached.
“Ciara,” he began, “I need to say this. I’m… I’m not like Marco. I don’t have it all together. I’m messy. I’m clumsy. And honestly… I ruin everything I touch.”
Ciara turned, confused. “Jepoy…”
“But,” he pressed on, “when I’m with you, kahit disaster ako, I feel like… maybe I’m worth something. I thought I had to be more—stronger, smoother, even super. Pero totoo lang… I just wanted to be seen. By you.”
Silence. The weight of the moment pressed on him.
Then Ciara smiled softly. “Jepoy… you’ve always been visible. Hindi mo kailangang maging superhero. You just have to be you.”
Something inside Jepoy broke—then healed. For the first time, his powers didn’t spark, didn’t fling books into the air. They were quiet.
And maybe that was the real miracle.
He laughed, teary-eyed. “So… true love pala, it knows no bounds? Kahit disaster ako, puwede pa rin?”
Ciara chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Puwede pa rin. Kasi minsan, the wrong story can still give us the right people.”
Outside, the rain stopped. Sunlight peeked through the clouds.
Jepoy walked out of the library that day knowing he didn’t have to be a hero to deserve love. He didn’t need his inconvenient superpower to make him visible.
Because he already was.
And for once, Jepoy felt like he wasn’t in the wrong story after all.
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and then Add to home screen.