The Many Lives of Persian Cas
There’s a rhythm to the way Persian Cas speaks: A mix of calm and chaos, like someone who’s learned to live between deadlines and dreams. You can almost hear the sound of things overlapping: the hum of a computer fan during a late-night shift, a child’s voice from another room, the faint buzz of an alarm clock reminding her that class starts in two hours.
She laughs easily, but her laughter feels earned.
She’s a single parent with two children, one 13 and one 18, and also a working student.
“Sabay-sabay kami nag-aaral,” she says, laughing. But there’s fatigue behind the humor, the kind you learn to carry with grace because you have no choice.
“This October,” she says, “I’ll finally be capped and pinned.”
And then she’ll become “SN.”
SN—Student Nurse. It sounds simple enough, but that title carries everything she’s built, broken, and rebuilt over the past few years.
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The First Life: Esports

Before the nursing scrubs and practicum hours, there was another kind of uniform: A team jersey, a headset, a seat onstage beneath the hot lights of an esports arena.
She calls her early days pucho pucho, a Filipino phrase that means rough, unrefined, still finding your footing. “Noong Season 1 and Season 2, ganun ako,” she says. “Pero natuto ako.”
Those were the beginnings of something that would later take her to BREN Esports, to a time when all-girls teams were rare, when the idea of women representing the Philippines in competitive gaming felt like rebellion.
“We got signed by BREN,” she recalls. “We even got to represent the country. I wasn’t part of the lineup in Singapore, but just to be part of that, ibang level!”
After the stage lights dimmed, she found her way backstage. First with OBS Gaming, then Digital Devils, then Smart Omega, handling players instead of playing. Management was a different kind of game. Less spotlight, more weight.
And somewhere in that long corridor of flights, scrims, and deadlines, she began to feel a pull toward something that required care instead of competition.
The Second Life: Nursing

“Mas may goal pa ako,” she tells ALL-STAR.
So in 2023, while juggling two kids and two jobs, she went back to school. Nursing, of all courses, a discipline that demands the kind of focus and compassion she was already practicing in real life.
She describes her routine like a list of endurance drills. “Work until late, study after. Sleep one hour, sometimes two. Then class again. Then work again. And in between, you think about your kids. Kumain na ba yung mga anak mo? Pumasok ba sila?”
There were nights, she admits, when she cried from exhaustion. “Hindi ko alam kung saan ko kinukuha ‘yung lakas,” she says. “Pero alam ko lang, may mga anak akong umaasa sa akin.”
The Woman Who Stayed

Persian is a single parent. She doesn’t hide it, doesn’t romanticize it either. “Yes,” she says, smiling. “Yes. Single parent.
Upon learning this, we asked her: “Kumusta ka!”
She threw the question back at herself.
“Iyan din ang tinatanong ko sa sarili ko! How am I?” she said, still laughing.
Then, softer: “Siguro kasi may mga taong naniniwala pa rin sa akin.”
Her parents help when they can. Her colleagues at work understand when she has to study. Her faith keeps her anchored. “Lahat ng pangit nasabi na sa akin,” she says. “Pero hindi ako pwedeng hanggang dito lang. Hanggang may hininga ako, may purpose ako.”
When she says it, it sounds more like a promise she made to herself somewhere between one long shift and another.
The Third Life: Becoming

Now, she works as an Executive Administrative Manager and a Human Resource Manager—two roles that demand patience, precision, and empathy. Traits she’s been practicing for years without realizing they’d someday lead her toward Nursing.
Her upcoming capping and pinning ceremony feels less like a beginning and more like a return. “Pasuko na ako noon,” she admits. “Pero kaya ko pala.”
Through it all, she is grateful to the people around her.
“I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who believed in me, trusted me, and helped me reach where I am today. To my bosses, Patrizha Maree Martinez, Martin Adrian Cabote, Benedict Repaso (Nakilhead), Jay Ron Mora, and most especially Sir Wesley Sun and Sir Rigel Sasis, as well as to the entire BURI, LL, and MW family, thank you so much for your support. Also to my parents and my other half who’s been with me along the way.”
When I ask if she ever imagined herself here, she shakes her head. “Hindi ko talaga nakita. Pero shucks, kaya ko pala?”
There’s pride in her voice, but the sort that comes from survival, not applause.
Before we ended, I asked if she had something to say to people like her, those who started too early, who were told they’d already missed their shot.
“Kung may pangarap ka, wag mong susukuan,” she says. “May mga tao pa ring maniniwala sa’yo. At kung wala, ikaw dapat ang unang maniwala.”

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