Archive of Our Own

San Junipero is a city of dreams. The unexpected happens. It’s a land where fantasies exist, where the unimaginable can happen.

It makes people believe they’re immortal.

It’s always nighttime; there, the sun never sets and never rises. It’s a city of lights, of nightclubs and loud music. It’s always fun time, and it’s a guarantee that there, you’re prone to have a good time. No rules, no restrictions, just youth. The city never sleeps.

In San Junipero, we can do whatever we wanna do, be whoever we wanna be. Time is eternal. Time is ephemeral.

When the night falls down, San Junipero wakes up. 

1987

It’s Saturday night, a bit past eight. The town seems to have woken up from its slumber. The neon lights are everywhere and it’s mesmerizing, putting its residents into a light trance. In San Junipero, people party until dawn, until they think they can see the sun peeking from the horizon.

Hyunjin walks down the paved street towards District 9. The night is young, just like the people. As he makes his way to the nightclub, he hears the chatter and laughter, and he watches the crowd of people hanging out all over the entrance. He supposes that the residents of San Junipero are already used to this every Saturday night, but there is no such thing; the thrill remains, the exhilaration hiding underneath their veins is evident and inescapable. There’s only one Saturday night a week, after all.

He notices a movie poster hanging a few meters in front of him, plastered to the lateral wall of the nightclub. The Surrogate Woman, one of his favourite films of all time. Next to it, the name of the club: District 9, a glowing, captivating neon blue sign, impossible to miss.

So many people, pulsating with laughter that bounces off the walls and into their sloshing drinks. What he is doing there is yet to be determined. Looking around, it comes to him that he has been trying to see if he can belong there. A place to fit in, find his piece of the world. What a change that would be from his usual: Hyunjin hates nightclubs. He hates excessively perforating loud music, the clusters and crowds and mobs, he hates the drunks, he hates the atmosphere as a whole. He doesn’t fit there, he doesn’t belong. He hates the overwhelming smell of smoke and alcohol, and feels like he can’t breathe, like there’s no space, no air whatsoever. Still, he lowers his head, holds his breath and makes his way deeper into the nightclub in search of a beverage, one that contains not a drop of alcohol.

He takes a look around him. The nightclub is dark inside, but not dark enough: he catches glimpses of the pink and blue lights travelling along the walls, and he distinguishes an eye catching ‘District 9’ sign just like the one at the entrance, but relatively smaller and with palm trees next to it in the same blue color. He approaches the counter with caution, careful not to bump into anyone and start an unintended fight -- one he knows he’d lose.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing there. He hates nightclubs, and doesn’t actually care that the nightclub he’s in right now is the most popular one in San Junipero, judging by the crowd. Yet Hyunjin can’t help but feel thrilled: it’s his very first night there, and he’s determined to have a great time. The time of his life. Everything is uncharted, everyone is new. He doesn’t want the night to end.

He’s not doing anything, though. Hyunjin just sits all by himself in a booth in the corner, sipping his Coke, watching time pass by before him, feeling like his first night slips away from his fingers. He watches the people, from the lovers sharing a single drink to the dazed dancers on the dance floor having fun to the geeks playing their video games, eyes glued to the screen in front of them. He takes a few sips and chokes slightly when he spots a man coming out of the bathroom. Hyunjin doesn’t want to scrunitize him and make the stranger notice him skulking, but he can’t help himself: the man’s brownish hair resembles bronze, his skin and melanin glow and his black blazer and shirt tucked under his belt fit him to perfection. He has the most perfect jawline, and his sunglasses perched on the bridge of his small nose makes him irresistible and undeniably hot. Hyunjin takes in his features: crooked teeth, small hands, slim figure, skinny legs. His short stature is what makes him less intimidating than he should be. He’s handsome -- Hyunjin can’t deny that -- but way out of his league: Hyunjin’s maroon and lemon coat and aviator glasses are no match; he’s a geek, and he highly doubts the man is interested in geeks.

But then the stranger becomes fully aware of his presence and locks eyes with him, smiling, walking straight towards him like he’s wired up with determination. Hyunjin feels like he’s been found, like the man has uncovered his hiding spot, and Hyunjin breaks the eye contact, fearing what’s to come and trying to avoid the man from getting closer and making him feel more awkward than he already feels. The stranger eventually reaches him and slides in beside him mumbling quickly, “Just follow my lead.” He rests an arm around Hyunjin’s shoulders. It isn’t half as uncomfortable as it should be.

“Wh-what?” He doesn’t understand what’s going on.

“Just go along with whatever I say.” He shifts closer to Hyunjin, glancing up as if looking for someone in the crowd, only confusing him even more.

Hyunjin looks up when a man walks up to them, making his way to the booth. When he arrives, the stranger next to him lets out an exaggeratedly loud sigh. 

“Okay Minho, you’re just pestering me now. Do I have to red light you?”

The man in front of them glances at his watch and replies, “Two hours and a half, there’s not much time left.”

“Min--”

The other man joins the booth, sitting in front of them. “Look…” he pursues, “Last week we had the most amazing--”

“Last week was last week,” the handsome man interrupts. He doesn’t sound mad, just annoyed. “I need to talk to my friend here, okay? Haven’t seen him in a while.” He motions to Hyunjin, who's still sitting, practically zoning out. Then he leans forward, “Minho, he's sick!” The stranger lowers his voice, “Like ‘six-months-to-live’ sick.”

“Five, actually.” Hyunjin chips in, something clicking in his brain, a burst of confidence coming out of nowhere. The stranger looks back at him with appreciation in his eye and then squeezes his shoulder lightly. Hyunjin knows he is blushing because his face burns.

“I need to catch up with him,” the stranger continues sternly. “Private time…” he adds and gives Minho a dismissive look.

“Okay... fine,” Minho finally rises from his seat to walk away, but before leaving he adds, “Hey,” he says to Hyunjin, who just wants the man to leave already, “I'm sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Hyunjin replies, shaking his head slightly and trying his best to muster a smile, but struggles with how flustered he is. Why is he so awkward?

“See you around?” Minho says half heartedly as he turns on his heels and finally walks away, giving up and at last leaving the two of them alone. The stranger just smiles slightly and watches him leave. Once he's out of sight, the handsome man lies his head on the back of the seat and groans.

“Sorry for killing you,” He says with a slight chuckle that physically hurts Hyunjin's heart. “The whole six months to live thing -- sorry, five,” he corrects himself with a cheeky grin. “Five was a nice touch,” he teases, and Hyunjin laughs a little, unsure of what to say. The only thing he can think of is that he probably looks like an idiot. An idiot in love. He's once again snapped out of his thoughts when the man raises a hand in front of him.

“I’m Jisung.” He introduces himself with a friendly, crooked smile that makes Hyunjin’s heart swell. He immediately takes his hand to shake.

“Hyunjin.” He smiles back, trying his best to avoid eye contact. 

Jisung frowns, disconcentrated. “Hyunji?”

“Hyunjin.” He attempts to raise his voice above the music and correct Jisung.

“Like Ryu Hyunjin, the famous baseball pitcher?”

Hyunjin nods, smiling. “Exactly.”

Jisung nods and looks up again in the direction Minho took off: he has vanished. “He's not a bad guy, I feel kinda bad.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know how to keep the conversation going, and he surely doesn’t want to stop talking to him so he does what he knows best: talk about the first thing that comes to his mind, no matter how absurd it sounds. “Sunglasses at night?”

Jisung lopsidedly smiles. “Well, they make me look rad, don’t they?” He takes them off: underneath, the most beautiful brown eyes Hyunjin has ever seen, eyes people only dream of. He could gaze at him forever.

“I like your hair,” he compliments Hyunjin, touching the kiss curl lying on his forehead. His hair is black and all swept back except for that kiss curl. Hyunjin isn’t especially fond of gel, but back in the days, people used that a lot.

Hyunjin just smiles in return. He feels the blush creep up on his cheeks and that once familiar feel of vigor strum in his heart. He swallows thickly, wanting to look away from embarrassment, but can’t: Jisung probably thinks he looks like a fool. Hyunjin feels he’s making a fool of himself.

“You want another one?” He points at Hyunjin’s empty Coke, and without waiting for a reply, he jumps from his seat.

“Oh, no I-- It’s fine, I’m--”

“Yeah you do, come on!” Jisung smirks, offering his hand to Hyunjin who hesitantly places his own hand in his -- there’s something about him that makes Hyunjin feel warm. Jisung pulls him up and practically drags him across the dance floor, unintentionally bumping into and accidentally tripping over several people on the way to the bar.

They thankfully arrive in one piece, and Jisung orders him a drink he fails to catch the name of -- the music’s too damn loud. He sure knows it’s not Coke, but he doesn’t really mind anymore: he’ll just follow Jisung’s lead instead.

“Don’t worry,” he says, noticing Hyunjin’s concern. “I’m sure you’ll love it.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to expect. The bartender serves him a drink that pretty much looks like Coke, bubbly and effervescent and all -- just like the people surrounding them -- but once he smells it, he’s positive that it isn’t what he thought it was. It smells quite familiar.

“What is this?” He asks the bartender. He doesn’t reply, just chuckles and leaves to keep on serving the rest of the party people.

“Taste and you’ll see,” Jisung replies instead. There’s something so convincing about him, about this tone. He’s sweet, almost too sweet and it makes Hyunjin’s legs weak. “I swear, you’ll like it. Cheers!”

Their glasses clink together. Following Jisung’s persuasion, he takes a sip. The drink reminds Hyunjin of his past, and he chokes. It tastes just like it used to. Jisung grins, pleased. “See? I knew you’d like it.”

Hyunjin nods, once the brief coughing stops. He gulps twice. “Yeah, I just haven’t had it in a while. It’s good,” he croaks. The drink is strong, stronger than his weak stomach can take but he does like the taste of his drink. It tastes of nostalgia.

Jisung chuckles. He sounds like a choir of angels. There’s something so charming about him, but Hyunjin can’t pinpoint exactly what it is about Jisung that makes Hyunjin feel like he finally belongs somewhere. Yet again, he’s been so caught up in his head that he fails to realize Jisung analyzing him from head to toes.

“What are you doing?” Hyunjin can feel Jisung’s eyes all over him. It isn’t comfortable but it isn’t uncomfortable either. It just makes Hyunjin feel more embarrassed; he’s never been really confident of his fashion style.

“I’m checking you out,” he says. “You’re something else.” Jisung smiles, making Hyunjin’s heart flutter. He then touches his aviator glasses and asks, “Why the glasses?”

“Uh--”

“I like them.” Hyunjin relaxes into a shy smile. “They totally work on you, but do you need them?”

Hyunjin breathes out a laugh. “Yeah, the lenses don’t do anything.”

“Ha! I knew it.” Jisung is satisfied with himself. It reminds Hyunjin of a little kid winning an argument, and he finds it cute.

“I used to wear them in school so I guess now they’re just kind of a-- a comfort thing, or something like that.” The glasses make Hyunjin feel safe somehow.

“I like them, you’re authentically you.” But then Jisung changes the topic again, wanting to know more about Hyunjin, wanting to get to know him better. “Do you live here?” He asks, amid the blaring music.

Hyunjin takes a minute to reply. “No, uh I--”

“Tourist?”

He shrugs, indecisive. Hyunjin’s not quite a tourist but not a resident either. He doesn’t know exactly what he is, and Jisung seems to get this feeling of confusion from him, so he says, “We’ll go with tourist,” he smiles and something inside of Hyunjin eases off. “So you’re new here?”

“First night.” Hyunjin releases a short sigh, smiling shyly. There’s something so frightening and nerve wracking about it being his first night, and fear lies in his thoughts: what if he doesn’t like it, what if he doesn’t get used to it?

“First night? All right then!” He turns euphoric all of a sudden. That feeling radiates onto Hyunjin, and the smile on his face unconsciously widens.

A new beat kicks in, and Jisung’s head automatically snaps up.

“I love this song!” He blurts, moving his shoulders, following the rhythm. He cracks up. “We have to dance to this.”

Hyunjin panics. He’s not used to this at all. “With each other?”

Jisung takes a sip from his drink before nodding. “Uh-huh.” He smiles.

He quickly turns him down, “Oh no, dance floors aren’t my thing.” Nothing about the situation he’s in right now is his thing: nightclubs and alcohol and blasting music are definitely not his thing. Especially dancing.

Jisung turns imploring eyes on him. “Come on! It’s your first night, let’s have fun.”

Hyunjin’s not even half convinced this time, but he rolls his eyes and allows himself to be led further into the crowd. He knows he’ll look dumb, but he’s ready to follow Jisung’s lead once again.

Shuffling his feet in time to the music, or at least trying to, Hyunjin allows his eyes to wander around, marveling at the sight of tons of people moving at once. Between the shifting bodies, Jisung looks even more ethereal than Hyunjin saw him the first time.

In the dance floor, his skin glows as if it is made of light. His smile intensifies and he moves with such grace, confidence and ecstasy that’s evident in every movement, every step, and Hyunjin can’t look away. He’s mesmerizing. Hyunjin swallows, mouth perpetually parched.

Hyunjin doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone look quite so alive before.

His head falls back, shaking brown hair from his face and Hyunjin is helpless but to watch his arms move over his head, twisting that lean body just so, moving as if under a spell. Jisung’s eyes open, meeting his unerringly across the dance floor and Hyunjin abruptly stops breathing. A languorous smile uncurls on Jisung’s face, still moving to the music, and he winks.

“I can’t dance to this, I can’t dance at all,” he mutters, moving awkwardly to the music. The lights are way too low and the music’s way too high, so he grimaces.

“Copy me,” Jisung retorts, pulling him closer. Hyunjin holds his breath.

His moves are ridiculous, yet Hyunjin can’t help but envy his easy, grinning confidence. It’s admiring, impressive. He tries copying him but he’s not really feeling the song: he’s making a fool out of himself. He’s totally embarrassed, uncomfortable and flustered. He wants to leave, he’s positive that Jisung won’t notice him leaving because he’s having too much fun on his own. Jisung belongs there and Hyunjin doesn’t.

Hyunjin doesn’t fit in, he knows this too well it hurts. It’s not like him to be outgoing and effervescent and a party animal, so he steps back and leaves the dance floor alone.

It’s raining outside. Despite the raindrops falling from the night sky, the street still dazzles with light. Lifting his head, he blinks as a drop hits his forehead, nose then the pane of glass covering his right eye. He would have enjoyed the moment a little longer had it not been for an eruption of laughter from inside the nightclub he just exited. Bringing his head down, Hyunjin looks back and realizes somebody followed him. Forgetting the raindrops, Hyunjin remembers why he is there. It is certainly not to stand in the street in the rain all night. He adjusts his coat and waits for Jisung to reach him.

“Hey, why did you run away?” Jisung asks, covering his ears and part of his hair with his black jacket.

He stutters, “Oh I-- I don’t dance.”

“No shit. Sorry I pushed you into it,” he truthfully apologizes. But in truth, Hyunjin has loved the way Jisung had tried to convince him of doing stuff, it has made him feel confident somehow. He has felt free for once in his life. “Saturday nights once a week, it’s like no time. I get impatient,” Jisung justifies himself. 

Hyunjin shakes his head, “No, no it’s not that it’s--” It’s that he’s never done something like this before: trusting a stranger, going out to a nightclub, dancing in a crowd. It’s all new to him. Plus, living in the shadows for so long, he’s not used to the attention and being stared at. “Everyone was looking.” He shrugs, feeling ashamed.

“Looking?” He clearly didn’t get the memo. It makes Hyunjin blush awkwardly.

“Yeah you know, two guys dancing--”

It’s as if Hyunjin has said something audacious, because Jisung bursts out laughing. “Why do you care? Okay, one, people are way less uptight than they used to be,” he says, lifting his index finger. Then he raises the middle finger to form a peace sign, “And two, this is a party town. No one’s judging.” He smiles. “Face it. If they were staring, it’s because I am bodacious.”

Hyunjin giggles and they smile to each other for what seems like forever. Rain keeps falling down and the party inside keeps going too, music changing genres and styles, but still as loud as ever.

“I’ve never been on a dance floor,” Hyunjin blurts out. His voice is laced with regret.

Jisung is taken aback by his confession. He did not see that coming. “Never? As in the whole time you’ve been alive never?”

“Never.”

Jisung laughs a little. He pities Hyunjin. “That’s one sheltered existence you got there. You’re missing out.”

“Yeah, well.” He stares at his shoes. Puddles surround them and the rain seems to never cease. “As far as my family’s concerned, I can’t do anything.” He accommodates his falling glasses.

“No one knows about even half the shit I get up to,” Jisung says proudly. He makes Hyunjin feel better, even just briefly. “With your parents, it’s from a place of love though, right? They worry.”

“They don’t worry.” The answer is fast, quicker than Jisung would’ve expected. It’s pitiful really. “Just the concept of me enjoying myself would blow their minds.” He really doesn’t want to talk about his parents right now.

The moment turns bittersweet.

“What would you like to do, that you’ve never done?”

Hyunjin never thought about it, it never even crossed his mind. He doesn’t know what to reply, what kind of answer Jisung’s expecting from him. “ So many things.” He sounds hopeful.

Jisung leans closer. “Midnight’s two hours away.”

“That’s not long.” Disillusion makes itself evident in his tone. The night is slipping away.

Jisung leans even closer, and Hyunjin feels like his heart will come out of his mouth. It’s beating so uncontrollably fast. “Why waste time talking here?” He lands a hand on Hyunjin’s arm and caresses it slowly. Hyunjin’s breath becomes uneven. Then, Jisung touches his cheek. His hands are soft, and he slowly rubs Hyunjin’s skin with his thumb.

Hyunjin takes a step back, shaking. “I, um--” He takes a moment to think what he will say next but his mind rushes and he can’t seem to explain himself. “Listen, I--”

“It’s okay,” Jisung cuts him off, gently. There’s something so understanding about him.

“No, I mean--”

Jisung smiles. “Really, it’s okay. No worries.”

Hyunjin wants to explain his situation to Jisung so badly but it’s as if his mouth and mind got into an agreement and refuse to let him speak and think properly. It’s frustrating and infuriating and Hyunjin feels like screaming. “I’m gonna get married soon.”

Jisung raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “To who? Are they here?”

“No, they’re--”

“Elsewhere?”

It’s still so confusing and Hyunjin doesn’t know how to explain it and make it clearer for both Jisung and his mind so he just nods. “Yeah.”

Jisung regards him again, grinning. “We could be back at my place in like--” he snaps his fingers.

It’s so tempting and Hyunjin really likes Jisung and actually yearns to but, “I never did anything like that.”

Jisung gapes at him, raising his eyebrows. There’s something exciting about it. “All the more reasons. This could be fun.”

Hyunjin sighs. “I want to, but I can’t.”

Jisung takes a few steps back, towards the nightclub’s backdoor they came from several minutes ago. “Okay, I get it.” He puts both of his hands in his pants front pockets and greets him goodbye. “It’s been great meeting you. You’re nice, refreshing.”

“Likewise.”

He watches as Jisung turns his back on him and heads inside, and observes him until he blends with the crowd and he loses his trace.

Hyunjin looks back up at the sky for a couple of seconds and proceeds to walk down the street, leaving the nightclub behind him and without looking back.

1992

A week later, Jisung gets into his red Mazda Miata MX-5 and drives to the center of San Junipero, ready to party again: Saturday’s finally upon him. The sun is setting over the horizon and tinging the evening orange. He has looked forward to Saturday all week, and he can feel the blood in his veins rush with adrenaline and the yearning fade.

He arrives to the center a bit past 7. The town is still half asleep, and the neon lights of the night are still missing. He parks the car, turns off the radio music he’d been listening to and engages the handbrake. When he gets off he turns around, ready to head back to the center of the town he knows but, “What the hell, Minho?”

The man he had a fling with a couple of weeks back is waiting for him, a subtle smile on his face, which disappears with Jisung’s annoyance. “Look, I know I’m coming across--”

Jisung walks past him, and doesn’t stop to acknowledge him. “I’m redlighting you.”

He whines in return, his plans obviously taking a turn. “No, don’t do that just--”

“Then stop this.” Jisung abruptly stops and Minho stands in front of him. Sorrow glints in his eyes, and it pities Jisung. He likes Minho, but it has gone too far; Jisung only sees him as part of his past. He’s only, if he could call him that, a friend.

“Can you hear me out. Please? Please.” Minho sounds a tad desperate. He reminds Jisung of a lost puppy.

Jisung sighs, evidently bothered. “How many guys do you think are in San Junipero? Hundreds? Thousands?”

Minho shakes his head, frowning. “I don’t care.”

Jisung sighs again, this time more compassionate and a bit more understanding. “There are plenty of guys out there for you, Minho.”

“The locals? They’re like dead people.”

A cluster of people whooping trot past them, and Jisung stares as they walk down the street and take a turn. “A little lively for dead people,” he argues, and keeps walking.

Minho catches up with him. “I don’t want some kind of boring romance, okay?”

“Well, if you’re looking for someone to fuck, there’s options.”

Minho groans, getting himself annoyed too. “It’s not just sex.”

“It was just sex,” he replies sternly.

Minho shakes his head, his eyes locked on Jisung. “No,” he says, getting closer. “We made a connection.”

“Minho.” Jisung’s cold now. “It was just sex,” he finishes bluntly.

He flinches in disbelief, blinking a few times: he is hurt by Jisung’s words. He tries to argue back, “No--”

Jisung lands a hand on Minho’s cheek. “We had fun. I’m sorry.” He pecks him sweetly and shortly on the lips as a sign of a truthful apology, and begins to walk away. Before leaving Minho behind, he adds, “Enjoy the town, for God’s sake!”

And then Jisung walks away.

He enters the nightclub just as Seo Taiji and Boys “I Know ” finishes playing at full volume. Jisung makes way through the dancing mob and reaches the bar in no time. He sits by the counter, song after song, listening to how the people whistle and watching them dance under the neon lights: it’s like a kaleidoscope.

Just when he’s about to finish his drink, a short man all dressed in black, an undercut and a cigarette dangling in his fingers approaches Jisung. He takes a small, quick draw of it and stomps the supposedly finished cigarette against the ashtray.

“Hey.” He catches Jisung off guard. His voice is not as low as Jisung would’ve expected. “I’m Changbin.”

“Jisung,” he says, and smiles in return.

“Waiting for someone?” He asks, taking the seat besides Jisung.

He shakes his head, and his smile widens, “Not really.”

Changbin grins, “I’ll get you a drink.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Changbin orders a drink Jisung personally loves, though he’s sure everyone in San Junipero loves it too. It arrives shortly, and Jisung takes awkward sips. “Tourist?” He asks.

The short man nods, “Yeah, both my kneecaps have kind of worn out, so yeah.” 

The man keeps rambling about his life, and it’s not that Jisung isn’t interested, it’s that he notices a familiar face among the sea of cheerful foreigners. Hyunjin is staring back at him, and Jisung subtly smiles back. He’s wearing something much cooler than last time, and his inspired Elvis hairstyle has turned into a mullet, which Jisung adores. His coat is now a light denim jacket and the glasses are round specs this time, unlike the previous aviator glasses.

“You know, I never got this song,” Changbin finally says, breaking the continuous raving about himself. “It’s kinda weird.”

Jisung snaps back to the stranger and proposes, “Shall we dance?”

Changbin agrees, and follows Jisung to the dance floor. On it, beneath the dry-ice smoke swirl an array of blues, acid greens, hot pinks, and gold. The music plays over the dance floor as if it has fused with the bodies. Jisung glances at Hyunjin every once in a while, standing in the corner where the light of the dance floor can’t reach him. He’s having fun, but inside he wishes he would be dancing with Hyunjin instead.

They eventually tire out and retire to the back of District 9, sitting on a table in the corner near the bathrooms. Changbin insists on talking about him and rambling about stuff Jisung can’t seem to pay attention to. He’s sitting in front of him but he feels like he’s not really there, more like caught up in his own mind. He notices Hyunjin sitting across them and continues to glance at him every once in a while. How could he not? He’s looking smoking hot.

He gazes longer now. Hyunjin’s looking right back at him and he smiles. Jisung takes a sip from his new drink, and pretends to pay attention for once.

“I mean, I guess by the time I’d put my mind into, like, rapping, you know, caught that first wave, would have had a different story.” 

He makes a pause, at last, and Jisung uses it to his advantage. “Sorry, gotta use the bathroom.” He excuses himself and heads towards his orientation.

➤

A week after meeting Jisung, Hyunjin is determined to meet him again next Saturday night. He’s been looking forward to it all week, and hasn’t stopped thinking about his dreamy eyes and his sweet voice ever since their encounter in District 9. Would it be odd to say that he missed Jisung? He figures he’ll be there tonight as well, so he sets for the nightclub.

He tries different outfits and hairstyles, he goes from wearing all black to dressing up in neon colors to eventually deciding on a denim jacket, comfortable brown trek trousers and changing his glasses as well, turning the aviator ones into specs. His hair is now a mullet, and has kept his hair black. He hopes Jisung will find him attractive this way, and deep down inside he hopes Jisung thought about him like he has with him.

District 9 is still as crowded as it was his first night. People are still as ecstatic and wild as they were last week. It’s still smothering but he’ll get used to it. Music’s different though, but nevertheless not his style. He feels as if it’s his first night all over again, but this time he has a purpose, one that wasn’t there before: he wants to meet Jisung. To his surprise, he finds him concerningly fast: Jisung’s by the bar, talking to someone he doesn’t know, someone that isn’t Minho. This man is all dressed in black, and looks relatively shorter than both Minho and Jisung. He watches from afar as the stranger orders a drink, and Hyunjin starts walking towards them intentionally slow, making his way through the loud chatter and blasting music. Hyunjin wants Jisung to notice him, he wants to feel like he’s caught Jisung’s attention somehow; a way of saying ‘I’m here’. He’s looking so laid back tonight, with a loose red shirt and light jeans. His hair is still brown and looking soft.

But it all is a bit disappointing, really; Hyunjin feels like he’s been replaced. He sure knows that man is the replacement of Minho, so why can’t he help but feel lost?

He realizes he’s close enough when he hears the stranger talk something about a microsurgery. He can’t quite catch what he’s saying but at that instant, a familiar pair of eyes lie on him. It is comfortable this time, and he smiles shyly.

“You know, I never got this song. It’s kinda weird.”

For a moment, Jisung takes a glance in his direction. Hyunjin, a few feet behind the mysterious man, can feel himself blush nervously as he watches Jisung’s face light up momentarily. What is he supposed to do now that what he has been looking forward to all week is finally here? Hyunjin doesn’t even have time to let the anxiety build before Jisung returns to face the stranger in front of him and say, “Shall we dance?”

He helplessly watches as Jisung and the short man make way through the dazed bodies and dance, something he wishes he could do but can’t. He recluses to the corner, letting the darkness surround him; it’s where he belongs. He pictures himself in the place of the short man, dancing to the music and with Jisung, but his fear of embarrassing himself is greater than any other desire. Even if he tries, he can’t dance. The rhythm just doesn’t flow through his veins and bones. Yet Jisung looks like he’s having the time of his life, he looks like he belongs under the flashing lights and surrounded by blaring music and shifting bodies.

Hyunjin turns away.

He orders a Coke, regretting ever laying eyes on someone as different from him as Jisung. He sits by a table in the corner, song after song, listening to how the people whistle and watching them dance under the neon lights: it’s like a kaleidoscope.

To both his dismay and pleasance, Jisung and the man are sitting just across him, casually chatting. He can’t help but gaze at Jisung, who’s not looking at him but at the other man. He isn’t sure Jisung even notices his presence until he catches him glancing at Hyunjin; he smiles to himself. The regret remains, and Hyunjin is mad at himself for wanting something that was never there; Jisung’s requited feelings.

Yet Jisung gazes at him for several seconds, and Hyunjin feels something inside. He’s not sure what it is, because he’s never felt this way before, but he’s sure it’s on the lines of a connection. He likes this feeling.

But then, he overhears Jisung say, “Gotta use the bathroom.” It seems like a signal, a way of saying ‘now it’s our time to talk’. And he takes that chance and follows him into the men’s bathroom.

The bathroom’s empty except for the two of them. Jisung checks himself in the mirror, and rakes one hand through his hair, further dishevelling it. It’s so irresistible, and Hyunjin’s heart beats unevenly.

He takes a deep breath, thinking what to say, what words to use. A million thoughts rush through his mind. “I don’t know how to do this.”

Jisung’s eyes are still on himself, contemplating his reflection. “Do what?”

Hyunjin really likes him. He yearns to be with him because Jisung makes him feel like trying new things, experiencing new feelings. He’s never done this, confessing to his crush, and hasn’t actually been in the position to face a heartbreak ever before in his life. “Just help me.” Help me understand what I’m feeling, how being with you makes me feel. “Can you just… make this easy for me?” Can you just like me back?

Jisung turns away from the mirror and slowly places a hand on Hyunjin’s cheek, just like he did a week ago. It’s familiar and warm and genuine. “Do you wanna get in my car?”

Hyunjin doesn’t even have to think about it, he just nods.

The engine revs as Jisung drives them to his house. The sky is black and starless, as if the stars have hidden in Jisung’s eyes. Hyunjin has come to comprehend that he has a galaxy in those hazel brown eyes he loves so much. It’s idyllic.

Hyunjin’s mind has not stopped thinking about the fact that he doesn’t really know Jisung. So he asks an innocent, simple question, “How long have you been here?”

“In San Junipero? Uh… Couple of months. Plan is, long enough to enjoy myself.” He smiles. The roaring wind dishevels his hair even more and Hyunjin just loves it completely. “Guess I’m a tourist like you.”

Hyunjin smiles. “Yeah.”

They arrive to Jisung’s house around 11, and it’s all Hyunjin has expected: a beach house through and through. It has a porch, and its walls are white. The entrance is covered in sand.

They hop off the car. Hyunjin can hear the waves lashing the sand from afar. Jisung smiles back at him and Hyunjin follows him up the porch stairs into the house.

“Before you say anything, I know my house is a mess.” He chuckles, turning on the lights. It’s very spacious but he’s right: it is indeed a mess. Yet it’s not too shabby, it’s cozy. 

“I like it.” He does, it’s very… Jisung. Hyunjin can’t help but look around in awe of the place, with its vibrant colors here, and the pastel there. It is diverse and cultured, just as Jisung himself seems to be. Its walls are decorated with photo frames and the floor is covered with magazines and confetti and it looks like the recipient of a lot of wild parties.

“Reminds me of where I grew up,” he shares.

Hyunjin takes a look around. He finds a picture of a blonde man, cheeks covered in freckles and light brown eyes. “Miss your brother?” He asks innocently.

Jisung gets closer, taking off Hyunjin’s specs. He has time enough to put the picture down before Jisung leans in completely and kisses him where no one else has before. He closes his eyes: it feels like nothing he’s ever felt. There are fireworks exploding in his stomach and his heart feels like it has beaten so fast that it has given up and has stopped beating altogether. He quickly relaxes into the kiss, getting the hang of it.

They break apart briefly, before making out again, this time more desperately and passionately than before. Jisung presses his lips harder onto Hyunjin and he moans in return. Hyunjin has been waiting for a guy like Jisung to come into his life. He’s been so desperate for love, to feel how he feels towards Jisung.

It all escalates quickly, but Hyunjin longs for it. He wants Jisung so immensely. Jisung grabs him by the waist, pulling Hyunjin up close against his chest and ripping his clothes apart. His hand gently glides through Hyunjin’s hair, as Hyunjin looks at him in a way he has never looked at a guy before. As a small but teasing smile creeps upon Jisung’s face, goosebumps line Hyunjin’s skin, anticipating what is to come. His heart accelerates and feelings rock his head backwards as Jisung kisses his neck and pushes Hyunjin’s body into his.

Hyunjin feels like he has just started living, like this is the real beginning of his life and that he hasn’t really known love until Jisung came along.

He could definitely get used to this.

The few windows in the room are open, allowing the beautiful ocean breeze into the bedroom and allowing the white curtains to flow naturally. They dim the room just enough to keep the moonlight from brightening it up too much. Everything is calm and very soothing. Hyunjin is sprawled out underneath the covers of the bed. His clothes are on the floor, sparsed around the room. Moonlight peeks through the window, shimmering down on Jisung. His bareback is soft and warm against Hyunjin’s fingers as he caresses Jisung’s skin, tracing his spine up and down a couple of times, giggling softly. His skin still glows and it’s ethereal. Jisung idly smiles, eyes closed, half face covered against the pillow. They hear the waves crashing onto the sand, lulling them to sleep.

It’s peaceful, and Hyunjin knows now it’s time to let go.

“I’ve never slept with a man before.” It’s a confession, and he feels lighter, like he has let go of a burden, of a weight on his shoulders.

Jisung looks at him, the stars in his eyes twinkling; they have gotten Hyunjin out of the darkness. “It was fucking awesome.”

“I never did it with … anyone.”

Jisung frowns, tossing in bed, now fully facing him. “Not anyone? What, in town or…?”

Hyunjin shakes his head slightly, smirking. “No, no one nowhere, ever.”

“You’ve had relationships though. You’re getting married.”

“It’s complicated.”

Jisung cuts him off, leaning closer and kissing his lips. Hyunjin kisses back, and it’s sweet and eternal. Jisung’s hands come up Hyunjin’s neck and hair, but he momentarily pulls away, grabbing his hands gently and intertwining their fingers.

“When did you know that you liked men?”

“I like women, too.” He smiles, curving his lips upwards. “But I’ve always known. I mean, I’d be attracted to other guys, co-workers, friends. They were just crushes.” Jisung reminisces, and it makes Hyunjin yearn for something that he never had: a lifetime of experiences. He’s been missing out all this time. He lets go of his hand. “I had a soulmate, I was with him for a long time. Madly in love.” He pauses, and it turns the moment bittersweet. Hyunjin leans forward. “But he couldn’t stick around, and now it’s just me and I’m passing through.” He smiles, but it’s pitiful. Jisung sighs a laugh, “Before I leave, I’ll make sure to have a good time.” It’s when a tear finally touches the pillow that Hyunjin realises Jisung has been silently crying this whole time. But it is a single tear, and it disappears without a trace.

Hyunjin strokes Jisung’s cheek with his thumb. He’s soft and warm, and vulnerable.

Jisung turns around, glancing at the clock on his nightstand. Then, he returns to face Hyunjin. “Time’s almost up.”

Hyunjin holds his hand again. “Then let’s just lie here.”

They lie on the bed, underneath the sheets just contemplating the other. Jisung beams. 

And then the clock strikes twelve.

1987

A week later, Hyunjin is back at District 9. He looks more confident, more comfortable. He has come to like this place, to get used to it. The people are still the same, wild, party animals. He won’t ever be that way, and they won’t ever change, but he still likes the place regardless of it being a bar. Hyunjin just wishes his parents would see him right now, because he’s sure they’d freak out.

But he’s there with a purpose again, the same one from last week. Jisung hasn’t left his mind, as he never does. He’s dreamy and charming and understanding, and Hyunjin never knew he needed someone like Jisung in his life.

The bar’s crowded, as it always is. He knows he’ll never find him on his own, so he asks the bartender, but to his dismay says he hasn’t seen Jisung all night.

He doesn’t know where else to look. It’s not like he knows Jisung and can predict where he’ll be. Besides, all the times they’ve met, it was always in District 9. Hyunjin turns away and allows his eyes to wander around the room, scanning every person and every corner, wanting to see a familiar face.

He eventually does, but it’s not Jisung. The man can hardly keep himself on his feet, and he staggers across the room as if waiting to finally fall, eyes barely open.

Hyunjin approaches him discreetly, making his way through the dancers and the music and the couples until he meets him. 

Minho is drunk on beer. He dangles a half empty bottle in his fingers, before chugging it down completely. The harsh smell is repulsing. “Look who’s here,” he slurres, “Jisung’s dying friend.” His shirt is opened and his chest is exposed, and he sways from side to side, trying and almost failing to keep the balance.

“Do you know where to find him?” He goes straight to the point, without wanting to waste time with someone who won’t remember this ever happening.  

“How would I know that?” He chuckles, closing his eyes. He half dozes, leaning his head back.

“You’re his friend.”

He shakes his head, now bringing it back down. “Was a friend. He trashed me out.” He takes the bottle to his mouth but discovers that it is now empty, and unpleasantly growls.

“Has he been here?” Concern laces his voice, and Minho realizes this.

He throws the bottle away, ready to head back to the bar and ask for another beer, Hyunjin supposes. “No,” he snaps. But then laughs, smirking. “You too, huh? Well… try a different time.” Hyunjin fliches. “Here in ‘80, the 90s, 2002 one time,” Minho says, sighing. “He’s worth the shot, right?”

Hyunjin understands and nods, and they part ways.

1980

Hyunjin is back on San Junipero, back to the town he has come to love. It feels like a home, like an escape from his spiraling daily life and he loves it. There are no worries there, no troubles, and it’s all peaceful and serene, compared to his life. He’s still anguished that he couldn’t find Jisung last week and, in truth, he is a bit heartbroken. He waited for him all night and he never showed up, and Hyunjin’s heart died a little.

But he won’t let that ruin this night, this week, and he sets for District 9 again, the only place he’s ever known. He decides to let his hair grow enough that it now touches his shoulders, but keeps it black as coal. The glasses, of course, are indispensable and he keeps them as part of his outfit, matching them with this buttoned up flannel shirt and jeans.

Despite it all, despite being disappointed and hurt, he still looks for Jisung, that looks like he has evaporated from the phase of the Earth. Something inside of him just won’t give up, he still fights and searches every corner looking for him, but he just doesn’t want to show up.

And Hyunjin’s heartbreak lingers.

1996

Another week, another heartless misery. It makes Hyunjin think that he made Jisung up, like he never existed in the first place. It’s crushing. He can’t help himself from searching. Not only guilt but also curiosity are eating him alive. The worst part isn’t that of not seeing Jisung, but not knowing why he never came back. No explanation, no nothing. Maybe Hyunjin has been too caught up in a fantasy, in someone that was never there, but he needs to know for sure what drove him away. Is he too clingy? Too inexperienced, too new? He just wants answers he’s not getting. Or maybe he just wants Jisung again.

His hair is still long and black, and his clothes are loose; loose shirt and jeans. Music’s changed though: still not of his liking. District 9’s still crowded as usual. But he feels lost now, like he’s roaming without a clear purpose.

San Junipero without Jisung is no place at all.

2002

Hyunjin has lost all hope. He doesn’t know why he keeps coming back to District 9, because all it does it bring him more misery tied with memories. It’s painful, and he doesn’t quite know why he got attached to someone so different from him. 

He goes back to a denim jacket, loose long hair, glasses and jeans. He feels comfortable that way, and knows that he’s not trying to impress anyone anymore. Without Jisung, it’s all pointless.

His heart is yearning for something he can’t place. It is the rush of being with someone he loves? Is it new experiences? Is it wanting to be different from the him that he really is, the him only Jisung was able to bring out?

The club is electric tonight, everyone feeding off of the smiles and fast dancing, like they could go like that all night long, feet moving to the crazy beat like they belong to the music. Yet Hyunjin walks around, getting familiar with the place; he’s not used to its changes. The music has changed yet again, and so have the hairstyles and funky clothes.

But then, among the people, he catches a glimpse of him. Time stops. He holds his breath. He sees a mirage, like all this time he has been wandering in the desert alone, without a sign, without even the slightest hope. It’s a beautiful, blinding mirage, and he stupefies. He now knows what he’s been yearning for. 

“Jisung.” The name escapes his lips in an inaudible whisper.

But Jisung doesn’t acknowledge his presence; he’s busy dancing to a game called Dance Dance Revolution he’s never seen before, playing with another guy he’s never met. He spends more time than he would’ve wanted just gazing at Jisung, that looks like a godly presence. He’s edgier, his hair even messier. Jisung is dancing a few feet from him, dressed in a dark V-neck t-shirt, a dark leather jacket and skinny jeans, his hair slightly longer than he last remembers it ever being and he is so impossibly beautiful. Hyunjin’s heart tightens immediately, an unbidden tear escaping his eye.

Jisung cheers all of a sudden, apparently winning the game. He delightedly cackles, and the sound of that voice knocks the air out of Hyunjin’s lungs, his heart climbing to his throat and an emotional pain he has tried to get over now taking over him. Hyunjin remains still for a long moment, his breath shallow as Jisung finally turns around and notices him.

Hyunjin stands frozen, because there he is, in front of Jisung, as if he is an apparition. “Hi.” His voice is weak, still bemused.

Jisung doesn’t say anything to Hyunjin’s evident bewilderment. He simply faces his opponent and excuses himself, heading to the bathroom. Hyunjin follows him, without wanting to lose him again.

They burst into the bathroom. Thankfully, there’s no one and it reminds Hyunjin of a scenario that happened a few weeks back. But he’s changed since then, and so has Jisung.

“Why are you here?” Jisung is the first to speak, but he doesn’t look back at him. He fixes and perfections his black low eyeliner, which has been barely smudged all night.

“I was looking for you.” Suddenly, it dawns on him that he has been looking forward to this moment for weeks. “Where did you go?”

Jisung checks himself in the mirror. “I like a change of music.”

Hyunjin frowns, perplexed. “How the hell is this your era?” He doesn’t want to accuse him or snap at him but he’s frustrated and furious so he says, “You hid from me.” It nevertheless comes out accusative.

Jisung stares back at him now, gaping. “I did not hide from you. I can do whatever the fuck I want. I owe you zero.”

“It’s not about who owes who, it’s about manners.” Hyunjin keeps the tears from falling, despite them swelling in his eyes. “You don’t know me.” It comes out hurtful. “You don’t know what this means.”

Jisung steps away from the mirror completely, and Hyunjin can see a raging fire in those hazel eyes he has come to love so much. “This means fun… or it should. And this--” he moves his index finger back and forth between them, “This is not fun, okay? This is not fun.” He grunts.

“So you don’t feel bad?” He is barely able to respond, Hyunjin’s voice breaking. He doesn’t want to cry in front of Jisung because he doesn’t deserve the tears. Jisung doesn’t reply, but doesn’t look away either. “Maybe you should feel bad, or at least feel something.”

And with that, Hyunjin storms out crying.

➤

Jisung doesn’t know where Hyunjin went, but he doesn’t want to let him go. He knows he’ll regret it, and he doesn’t want that. Jisung leaves the bathroom and heads outside, far from the people and the blasting music and laughter. He wanders outside District 9, eyes searching everywhere but he left without a trace. Jisung goes out to the street, but still has no luck.

About to give up, he stares at the sky. The moon shines over him, glimmering with its beautiful light. It’s a starless sea of blue, and he knows Hyunjin would love it.

And then he sees Hyunjin, sitting on the rooftop of the bar, head high, looking at the sky just as Jisung predicted. Despite his fear of heights, he climbs up, wanting to talk to him and sort things out. When he reaches the top, Hyunjin is looking down at the town, and doesn’t turn to face him, silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Hey.” It’s sweet and assuring, and Hyunjin looks back at him momentarily. Jisung crouches down, afraid of looking down at the people and realizing how high up they actually are. He forces himself not to close his eyes and give his full attention to Hyunjin. “Please tell me you got your pain slider set to zero.”

Hyunjin nods, still looking down. “Yeah, I think so.” He has stopped crying.

Jisung gets closer, silent. He doesn’t know what words to use, words that won’t hurt him more than he already is. So, he starts, “Okay, listen--”

“How many of them are dead?” Hyunjin cuts him off, leaving Jisung breathless. It catches him off guard. “Like what percentage?”

“As in full timers?” Jisung shrugs. “Eighty. Eighty-five.” He sits on the edge, right next to Hyunjin but giving his back to the cliff. “I’m sorry.”

It sounds truthful, and Hyunjin smiles briefly. “I’m not gonna jump, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I know, and I’m sorry, whatever it’s--” He pauses. “I’ve kinda been avoiding you, it’s true,” he says it with a smile, as if to try not to hurt Hyunjin, to break him down completely. It makes it worse; it hurts even more. “It’s just that in the time I’ve been here, I said I wouldn’t… I don’t know, do feelings.” Jisung’s eyes get watery. He holds Hyunjin’s hand, and he looks back at him now. “You freaked me out.” He smiles wider. “I don’t wanna like anyone.” Hyunjin nods, looking down at their intertwined hands. “So you’ve been just… totally fucking inconvenient.” They stay silent for a moment. “I don’t know how long there is, and I can’t-- I wasn’t prepared for you, for wanting something so bad--”

Jisung breaks down crying and Hyunjin shushes him off with a kiss. It’s short yet meaningful, and Jisung knows that he has someone to turn to.

He won’t ever turn away from Hyunjin again.

Hyunjin knows he’ll never get used to the sound of the waves, to the sand beneath his feet, to the wind that dishevels his hair. It’s peaceful, especially at night when there is no sound of seagulls flying around.

He sits besides Jisung on the porch steps back at his house, facing the empty beach. The moon reflects on the water and its light shimmers down on them. It’s cold but not too cold; it’s pleasant.

“What’s your favourite colour?” Hyunjin asks, amid the lulling sound of the waves.

“What?”

“What’s your favourite colour?” he repeats.

“Red,” Jisung answers. “Red’s my favourite color. It represents passion. What about yours?”

“I like blue.”

“What does it represent?”

Hyunjin shrugs. “I don’t know.” He frowns, doubtful. It’s just a color to him.

“What does it represent to you?”

He never really thought about it before. “Serenity. Peace. Calmness.”

“Like the ocean, like the waves crashing onto the sand.” It’s as if he completes him.

Hyunjin nods. “Exactly.” He sighs, slowly closing his eyes. But then he remembers something tingling at the back of this head, so he opens them again and enquiries. “You said you don’t know how much time there is,” he says. “What does it mean?”

Jisung looks at him for a while. “They tell me three months.” He smiles. “It’s spread basically everywhere. They said three months before six months ago. So, you know, what do they know?” He embraces Hyunjin, pulling him closer. He’s warm.

“But so you’ll stay here after?” He sounds hopeful.

Jisung shakes his head. “No, when I’m done, I am done.”

“But that’s cra-- I mean… why?” He doesn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to stay in a place like San Junipero.

“Felix.” It’s a single word, a name, but by the tone in Jisung’s voice, Hyunjin knows he’s his whole world. Besides, he’s broken the eye contact and now stares at the faraway ocean. “My soulmate’s name was Felix.” Lovely name. “He died just five years ago, so he didn’t have the opportunity to stay in San Junipero. Pass over.” Unfortunate, Hyunjin feels pity and just nods. “He couldn’t take it.” A faint tear makes itself evident in his eye, and it quickly rolls down his cheek. “Couldn’t even visit, take the trial run.”

“Shit.” The word escapes Hyunjin’s mouth. “I didn’t know if I wanted to try it but… I mean...” He chuckles, easing off the tension. “Without this place, I never would’ve met someone like you.”

“What do you mean?” He smirks, leaving the sadness and tears behind. “Yeah, you could’ve.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“We could’ve met outside all of this.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, smiling. “No… You would not have got me at all.” He gazes at Jisung, who’s expectantly looking back at him. “ At all. ” Jisung’s still silently frowning in disbelief. “If we really met, I mean… If we really met, you wouldn’t like me.”

Jisung smirks again. “Try me.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, giggling. “Or you’d-- you wouldn’t want to spend time with me. You’d come and then--”

“Try me!” It sounds like a dare, and part of Hyunjin loves it.

The other part is terrified. “Why? What’s the point?” There isn’t a point, or if there is one, Hyunjin clearly doesn’t see it. “Where are you? Busan?”

“Incheon.” Hyunjin sighs. “So come on, I showed you mine. Where are you?”

“Seoul,” Hyunjin says. That’s no distance. “I don’t want you to--” He pauses, sighing. He’s frightened. “I don’t want you to see me, I’m scared--”

“And I’m dying.” It’s awful but it’s true. “Whatever you are can’t scare me.” He smiles, and Hyunjin’s worries seem to disappear with it. “Let me come visit. I wanna say hi.”

An eternity seems to pass by before Hyunjin accepts, slowly nodding. Jisung beams.

And then the clock strikes twelve.

2019

Han Jisung is seventy three years old. He’s weak, can barely move, do things on his own and needs to be taken care of by an assistant, a lively young boy called Jeongin, and lives in an assisted living facility. He’s incredibly exhausted and his muscles ache. His cancer has spread everywhere and he knows he doesn’t have much time left.

He is a man beaten down by old age and terminal cancer. His hair, once shimmering brown, is now grey and white. His porcelain face has withered with time and it left him nothing but a frail layer of skin. Yet his eyes still reflect the kind of warmth and love only a few understand.

He knows one day he’ll just stop breathing altogether.

But Jisung loves San Junipero. He loves the newly developed virtual reality system that allows him to live as his younger self. The little electronic device at his temple permits him to leave this current world for five hours a week. Millions of people have been uploaded where they can live in the stimulated place forever. Yet Jisung’s trial period only allows him to visit San Junipero five hours a week, ending at midnight.

He loves using those hours to meet with Hyunjin. And now, he’ll finally be able to meet him in real life.

➤

Jisung isn’t surprised but rather sympathetic to meet Hyunjin’s real life conditions: tied to a bed, quadriplegic. He understands now why he loves San Junipero so much; it allows him to live. It allows him to move and speak and experience things he can’t, things he’s missed.

He now understands why everything was a first time to Hyunjin.

“He won’t be able to physically respond in any way, but he can hear you,” the doctor says. “I’ll give you some privacy.” Then he leaves, closing the door behind him.

Jisung lets go of Jeongin’s grasp and walks closer to the bed. Hyunjin has a tube connected to his throat, which is connected to a machine next to him, and his eyes are wide open, staring into nothingness. His hair is not black, but instead grey. He looks younger than him, or maybe it’s just that he’s not dying. But Jisung doesn’t mind; he has only changed physically. He’s still the same Hyunjin he met in San Junipero.

“Hi,” he says, holding his hand. He’s cold. He caresses his hair, pecking him on the forehead. “It’s good to see you.” He smiles. The machine just beeps back.

It pains Jisung to see him in this state of absolute numbness. It’s unfortunate and it fills him with sorrow, and the contrast between San Junipero and reality hits him.

But then another doctor comes in, interrupting his line of thought, snapping him out of his head and back to the hospital room.

“Uh… Hello. Excuse me. Is it… Jisung?”

He turns around, facing the man that has just entered the room. He’s tall and young, and his hair is red. “It is.”

“I’m Seungmin, I take care of Hyunjin here.” He smiles. “I think it’s great that you came down here in person before he passes over. Even his parents don’t visit anymore so...”

Jisung turns away from the bed, entirely facing the doctor. He stutters, “P-Passing over? He’s passing over?” Those words come as a shock to him, and he gasps. It all feels heavy.

A million bullets hit him in the chest.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“No he did not,” Jisung says, still in disbelief. He’s sitting in front of Seungmin, now out of the room and in the hospital’s cafeteria. They grabbed some coffee and are now discussing the big news, news Jisung was unaware of. Why didn’t Hyunjin tell him? “He said he was just visiting.”

“More like sampling the trial version,” he corrects. “I’ve only known him for the past three years. Did he tell you how he ended up quadriplegic, and how long he’s been that way?” He hasn’t thought about it. Jisung doesn’t say anything, and it is clear that he is waiting patiently for Seungmin to explain. “He came out to his parents. They were a little bit uptight about it. He was 21, and they told him they didn’t want a gay son, that it isn’t natural and so forth.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “So they fight, there’s a lot of screaming, it all ends badly and bam, he jumps off the balcony of his apartment.”

“When he was 21?” He was so young. Jisung gasps. He can’t imagine doing it himself.

Seungmin nods. “More than 40 years back.” That’s a very long time, and Jisung can’t begin to imagine how awful it is, the dimension of the pain Hyunjin is in. “It’s been his whole lifetime, basically.” He takes another sip and goes on, “So the whole San Junipero system has been a big deal for him, I mean the biggest deal.” He pauses. “Of course now, until he passes over, it goes permanent, he’s on the five-hour weekly limit, like you I suppose.”

Jisung nods, chuckling. “They ration it out, they don’t trust us with it anymore.” He smiles, but in truth he’s smiling to himself. “I know they say you go crazy if you have too much but like that doesn’t happen in every senior home already.” He laughs. “The system’s there for therapeutic reasons, immersive nostalgia therapy. Plunge you into a world of memories.”

They stay silent for some minutes, each taking sips of their coffees. But there’s something that quite doesn’t fit, something Jisung still hasn’t figured out. So he asks about it.

“So, about the marriage…” he starts, leaning forward.

Seungmin clears his throat. “The state’s got a triple lockdown on euthanasia cases. You gotta have a sign off from the doctor, the patient and a family member,” he explains. “But Hyunjin’s family members are big time religious and refuse to sign--”

“But a spouse can override them,” he finishes, understanding where this is all leading. Hyunjin is a genius.

“You got it,” he smiles. “But we still haven’t found one, so his passing over has been delayed for a while now.”

“Passing over,” he says, “Let’s just call it dying.” Living in San Junipero would be like living in heaven. “But what do you mean?” He surmises that something is wrong.

“I mean, I would marry him and sign the papers but--” he shows his finger; he’s married already.

Jisung can’t keep the surprise off his face. He has come up with a plan and wants to execute it. “Do you think you could hook us up to the system now?”

➤

Hyunjin has never been to San Junipero during the daylight. He likes it; he can hear the seagulls flying over his head and the crystal clear water in front of him, and he can watch the waves crashing onto the sand instead of just listening to its lulling sound.

Jisung catches a glimpse of Hyunjin, who’s on the beach staring at the horizon. “Hey!” He waves and shouts from his house, before running down the porch stairs and rushing to meet Hyunjin.

“I’ve never been here during the daylight.” He giggles once Jisung has reached him. “It’s warm.”

Jisung holds his hands. “Listen, I gotta be quick,” he pants. “So I spoke to Seungmin--”

“Oh.” Disappointment is evident in his tone. He furrows his eyebrows.

Jisung’s eyes reflect pity. “So you’re passing over?”

Hyunjin nods silently. He should’ve told him sooner but he was afraid. He’s tired of being afraid. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you--”

Jisung shushes him, taking a finger to Hyunjin’s lips. He gazes at Hyunjin and knows that whatever he’ll do next, he won’t regret it. “Can I just do something crazy?” He says out loud, but knows he’s asking himself, asking his past self. He’ll always love Felix, but knows that deep down inside he has to do this. He has to set him free. So he kneels down, still holding Hyunjin’s hands, and asks something he never did, something he never could in real life. “Wanna marry me?” He doesn’t need to justify himself, but still does. “I wanna give you something special, something no other person can. I just want to give you what you want, your freedom.”

Hyunjin gasps, words leaving him. He stutters and his mind malfunctions. He falls to his knees, unable to keep the surprise from taking over his body and kisses Jisung, holding him in his arms and praying for the moment to never end, to replay in his mind forever. He kisses him quickly, desperately, hungry to show him his most profound appreciation.

“Is that a yes?” He asks, cracking up.

He grins against his lips and murmurs, “A million times yes.” Hyunjin giggles, before planting a gentle kiss on Jisung’s soft, heart shaped lips. He won’t ever get enough of that.

1985

Jisung and Hyunjin go dancing that night, making part of the crowd that used to engulf them. Hyunjin has come to enjoy the music and get used to the people and the atmosphere as a whole, and his fears have disappeared with a single person, his whole world: Jisung. He makes Hyunjin feel like he belongs, not just in the cluster he used to envy, but somewhere. It’s safe and assuring and Hyunjin knows there’s nothing to fear as long as Jisung’s by his side. Not only has he set him free in real life, but also mentally and emotionally. He’s not using his glasses anymore and knows he’ll never be able to thank Jisung enough for everything that he did.

“Come,” Jisung says, amid the music, grabbing his hands and guiding both of them out of District 9. “Let’s get outta here.”

They return to their favourite place: the beach behind Jisung’s house. It’s calm and serene and there the sky and the sea seem to fuse into one. They’re entirely on their own, a small bubble. It reminds them that it’s real, even if it’s actually not; they like living in a dream. But it’s much more than just a dream.

The only thing real there is them. Their love.

Hyunjin rushes to the shore, splashing his feet in the water and laughing out loud. “I love this!”

“You’ve been here before.” Jisung teasingly retorts, crossing his arms over his chest, watching him from a few feet behind, sinking his ankles in the sand.

“Now I live here.” He smiles. “It’s all thanks to you.”

The breeze howls. They watch the sun disappear in the horizon, and the stars come out. They lie on the sand, cuddling and nuzzling and keeping themselves warm, letting time slip by.

He knows he has to say it now, before more time slips away, before he regrets keeping it inside. Before he’s gone. “I want you to stay.”

“What do you mean?” Jisung returns quietly. The wind muffles his honeysweet voice.

“Be with me.” His voice is laced with sincerity, with yearning. It’s undeniable how much Hyunjin wants him to be with him forever.

Jisung laughs, but briefly, easing off the building tension. “I am with you now.” He cups Hyunjin’s cheek.

“I mean-- Pass over,” He proposes impulsively. Hyunjin doesn’t want anything else. “When it’s your time, of course.”

“Hyunj--”

“Stay here with me.” It sounds like a plead, but it isn’t demanding. He can’t begin to imagine San Junipero without Jisung; it isn’t heaven at all. He wouldn’t know how to endure the loneliness. “It’s almost midnight. In ten minutes you’re out of here and then I have to wait a week to see you again. And then what?”

Jisung takes a deep breath, letting go of Hyunjin. “I’m just a visitor. You know I can’t. I told you, when I’m gone, I’m out.” He stands up. “You knew what this meant.”

“You could have forever,” he argues. Hyunjin doesn’t want to lose him; it’d be like losing a part of himself.

Jisung gasps. “Forever?” He giggles nervously. He throws his hands in the air. “Who can even make sense of forever?”

“I don’t want to be here if it doesn’t have you,” Hyunjin says in a strained voice, standing up slowly and choosing his words carefully. “You married me.” He flashes his ring.

“Come on, you know that was just a gesture. I helped you pass over, as an act of kindness.”

“It’s not so kind to leave,” Hyunjin deadpanes. “Stuck among a bunch of people who claim to see me, but don’t. Who claim to hear me, but don’t. Who claim to feel me, but don’t. You feel me, you see right through the very core of my existence. I don’t want that feeling to go, I don’t want you to go.” He’s pouring his whole heart out, and it aches.

But Jisung’s evidently disappointed. “That’s selfish,” he shakes his head.

“No, you’re selfish.” There’s venom in those words but Hyunjin doesn’t regret it one bit. If it’ll prevent him from leaving, he’ll do anything, no matter how much it hurts him.

“I gave you what you wanted.” Jisung’s voice cracks but he stays rooted to the ground, “I gave you your freedom.”

“I wanna share it with you,” he says, suppressing a sigh. “I wanna share this with you.” He goes for his hands but Jisung flinches away. It’s as if the mere thought of touching Hyunjin will burn his skin. “We have this chance, don’t blow it.”

“No, don’t touch me.” He takes a few steps back. Hyunjin knows he’s losing him. “I made my choice.”

Hyunjin doesn’t want to give up on him. “What is it, you feel bad because Felix isn’t here?” It sounds accusative. Staying now sounds like an order. He takes a few steps forward, erasing the distance between them.

“Don’t--” 

“This is your choice.” He’s firm and greatly displeased. “You’re choosing not to stay here, it’s like you’re leaving me. You know, you could stay but you’re choosing to leave. Not him.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying--”

“Love grew in me in the most beautiful but unexpected places.” He blurts out. He never knew love before Jisung. “I should be mad at you, I am mad at you. You’re selfish--”

Jisung raises a hand but stops himself and looks down. He could never hurt him, it’s not like him to be so violent. The roaring wind fills the silence between them. Then, Jisung speaks again. “It pained me when this whole system came out,” he confesses. Silent tears stream down his face. “He was late. I hated it, for the longest time I hated it. I had the chance but he didn’t, and I didn’t want to spend forever alone.”

Hyunjin gasps, still shocked. “I’m here.” It sounds like a reminder.

Jisung unbottles the frustration calmly, voice husky. “How can I? When he missed out, how can I?” he repeats. “I was with Felix for 49 years. It’s a lifetime of love, and you just cannot know.” His voice gradually increases in volume. “The bond, the commitment, the yearning, the laughter, the love of it, the fucking love! You just cannot know!” Hyunjin gulps. “Did you think to ask?” It’s rhetoric, but Hyunjin nevertheless shakes his head. “Did it occur to you to ask ?” He’s been through so much and Hyunjin’s apologetic. “You think you’re the only person ever suffered, go fuck yourself.” 

He turns around to leave but Hyunjin stops him in time. “No, I didn’t know--”

“Go ahead, spend eternity in this fucking graveyard you’re so in love with.” His voice’s monotonous now. “I pitied you, and that’s the truth. I pitied you.” Hyunjin hates that. “You wanna spend forever somewhere nothing matters?” He pauses, taking short breaths. Eternity seems to pass by before them. “Go ahead. But I’m out, I’m gone.”

It isn’t until Jisung is done speaking that Hyunjin realises he’s been holding his breath. Words leave him, but the tears at the back of his eyes don’t. He weeps; he’s leaving him again. “You’re breaking my heart again.”

“No,” Jisung whispers, voice affected by the unbidding tears. “You’re breaking mine.”

Hyunjin sobs harder, and Jisung walks away.

Jisung drives his Mazda Miata MX-5 on the road, far from his house, the beach and, more importantly, Hyunjin. Though, he won’t get away: it’s all in his head. He’s frustrated by Hyunjin’s request, he’s annoyed, lonely, mad for the accusations. He doesn’t ever want to come back to San Junipero, and knows he probably won’t; he’s too heartbroken to do so. He knows he’s not thinking properly and rationally, and driving sure doesn’t help, but it cools down the fire burning inside his veins.

He inconsolably cries, tears blinding his eyes and his judgement and actions. He speeds up, wanting to hear the engine revving louder than his helpless sobs. The tyres screech and he pushes the pedal harder. He needs a kick, something to wake him up, bring him back into the world instead of trapping him in his head.

Jisung finds what he’s looking for; his body catapults forward and shards of glass float around him before his body hits the ground. He grunts, body propelled forward, face against the sandy road. The car, totalled; his mind, clear. With the pain slider set to zero, the crash doesn’t hurt but he still remains a few seconds on the floor, limbs sprawled and eyes closed.

He hears the howling breeze and the rippling waves, reminders that he’s still in San Junipero. He coughs and slowly sits, eyes lost in a sea of blackness. Jisung wonders how he got there; it was supposed to be fun.

And then he sees a hand, ready to bring him back into the world. A helping hand, one Jisung knows he needs. Hyunjin is standing in front of him, hand stretched for him to take it. He holds it, but says, “I won’t come back.”

Hyunjin nods silently, eyes full of regret, but before he can raise him to his feet, the clock strikes twelve. Jisung’s gone.

➤

Clear, blue water washes over Hyunjin’s feet, helping them sink further into the wet sand. He’ll never get used to San Junipero during the day. It’s quieter. He turns his face to the sun and lets the shadows fall behind him.

It has been weeks since he last saw Jisung, lost and broken. He wishes he could erase that last memory with him but can’t: it was so raw, and beyond painful. Yet there was beauty in that sadness, once he never saw before in anyone.

To say that he missed Jisung would be an understatement. San Junipero is simply not the same without him.

Then the night falls, and it makes him feel lonelier than ever. He hasn’t seen a starry night since Jisung took the stars in his eyes with him.

He misses the galaxy, he misses the constellations and the planets and the twinkling stars. He misses those dreamy eyes, and the light they emitted, that light dragging him out of the darkness.

He misses the warmth, the fun, the embraces. Hyunjin misses the entirety of him.

He lies on the sand, just outside Jisung’s old house, the one he hasn’t been in for weeks. Somehow he believes one day he’ll return to him, and bring back the time they have lost.

He catches a glimpse of someone walking towards him, silhouette still small in the distance. The figure approaches him until Hyunjin recognizes the stranger; it’s someone he knows too well.

When their eyes finally meet, Hyunjin’s heart almost skips a beat. It is him. And he remembers their last conversation. For some quiet moments, they simply stare at each other, expressionless, neither able to say a word. Hyunjin’s mouth has turned so dry that he isn’t even sure he can be able to say something at all. Then, finally, Jisung beams.

The clock strikes twelve.

But this time, nothing changes.