Rhea’s Road to Seoul
Rhea had always been the kind of girl who played in the quiet—on hostel rooftops, at half-lit cafés, in alleys where rain filtered down like applause. In Hyderabad, her music was known, but never seen. People loved the sound, but not the girl behind it.
She applied to a scholarship for a short-term music residency in Seoul—something niche, cross-cultural, barely advertised. She never expected to be chosen. But her demo—half raga, half lullaby—landed in the right inbox.
She arrived with exactly one suitcase, two pairs of jeans, a mirror-work skirt she refused to leave behind… and her guitar, its neck patched with copper wire from the day it cracked during a rainstorm gig.
Her Korean was shaky. She learned words by busking in Hongdae. Every coin dropped was another phrase earned.
When the program ended, she stayed.
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