“When I said I wanted the island experience, this is not what I meant.” Jinwoo stared around at the debris that had washed up onto the beach.
He was -- a little numb. He and Myungjun had been headed for Jeju Island for a variety show shoot, the two of them plus a pilot and a bit of gear on a very small plane. There had been thunder and lightning and the plane falling and --
Just Jinwoo and Myungjun, waking up on the beach, surrounded by bits and pieces of broken plane and scraps of luggage and no way to call for help or get home.
Myungjun took a deep breath, rolled up his sleeves, and said, “Well, most important is drinkable water, food, and shelter. Let’s get to work.”
“And do what?” Jinwoo asked.
“Let’s collect everything that’s washed up and try to dry it out and see what we can use. Anything we can’t use for sustenance or shelter we can maybe use to make a signal so that someone flying over the island will know we’re here.” Myungjun padded down the sand and scooped up a sudden suitcase.
How was Myungjun so calm? Yes, he was the team sunshine, but right now there was no audience and no cameras. Why wasn’t he freaking out? Jinwoo was definitely freaking out.
But as Myungjun passed by him carrying possibly a piece of plane wing, he snapped Yah! and Jinwoo scrambled into motion to help.
By the time the sun was about noon high, they’d collected everything in sight and placed it high above the tide line to dry out (until it rained), they’d constructed a shelter by stringing up a blanket between a couple of trees, and they’d cracked open a couple of coconuts, drunk the water out of them, eaten the flesh out of them, and then rinsed them to use as bowls. The entire time, Myungjun was calm and thoughtful and reasonable.
After their coconut break, they resumed combing the beach for more supplies washed ashore, and they considered options for food. They could use a rock to sharpen a stick and maybe spear some fish in the shallows. They’d found some tin cups among the plane supplies they could use to boil water and make it safe to drink -- just beyond the trees there was a little stream that had fresh water.
Myungjun experimented, and they could use the lenses pushed out of his glasses and doubled up to start a fire. They agreed to just keep it going perpetually, because if there was bad weather they might not be able to start it again, so Jinwoo went to find fuel for the fire among the trees while Myungjun continued to collect plane debris.
By the end of the day, Jinwoo was exhausted, sick of coconut, and sunburnt. He and Myungjun curled up beneath their flimsy little shelter and tried to sleep.
Jinwoo closed his eyes and snuggled closer to Myungjun, because now that the sun was down it was much colder -- and he felt Myungjun tremble in his arms.
“Hyung?”
Myungjun sniffled.
Oh no. He was crying. He’d been so calm and hardworking and almost cheerful all day, but it couldn’t have lasted.
Jinwoo tugged Myungjun around to face him. “Hey. I’m here. We’re together. You did well today. You saved us, all right?” He fumbled in the dark, wiped away Myungjun’s tears.
Myungjun clung to him, crying harder.
“Hyung,” Jinwoo whispered. “It’s okay to cry. Just --”
Just Jinwoo was a sympathy crier, and he burst into tears, and they sobbed together until they both ran out of energy and tears, and then they lay there, gazing at the flames of their bonfire.
“We’ll be okay, won’t we?” Myungjun asked. “They’ll find us. We’ll make it home.”
“We will,” Jinwoo said, because he had to, he had to believe it.
Myungjun burrowed into Jinwoo’s embrace, and together they fell asleep.
They were awakened hours later by the roar of a helicopter and a man shouting over a megaphone.
They both scrambled to their feet and ran to the bonfire, scooped up the white shirts they’d salvaged and waved them back and forth, cheering and crying as a helicopter hovered above them in the sky, spotlight blazing down on them like sunlight.
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Fill: Jinwoo + Myungjun
Date: 2021-12-07 03:50 pm (UTC)He was -- a little numb. He and Myungjun had been headed for Jeju Island for a variety show shoot, the two of them plus a pilot and a bit of gear on a very small plane. There had been thunder and lightning and the plane falling and --
Just Jinwoo and Myungjun, waking up on the beach, surrounded by bits and pieces of broken plane and scraps of luggage and no way to call for help or get home.
Myungjun took a deep breath, rolled up his sleeves, and said, “Well, most important is drinkable water, food, and shelter. Let’s get to work.”
“And do what?” Jinwoo asked.
“Let’s collect everything that’s washed up and try to dry it out and see what we can use. Anything we can’t use for sustenance or shelter we can maybe use to make a signal so that someone flying over the island will know we’re here.” Myungjun padded down the sand and scooped up a sudden suitcase.
How was Myungjun so calm? Yes, he was the team sunshine, but right now there was no audience and no cameras. Why wasn’t he freaking out? Jinwoo was definitely freaking out.
But as Myungjun passed by him carrying possibly a piece of plane wing, he snapped Yah! and Jinwoo scrambled into motion to help.
By the time the sun was about noon high, they’d collected everything in sight and placed it high above the tide line to dry out (until it rained), they’d constructed a shelter by stringing up a blanket between a couple of trees, and they’d cracked open a couple of coconuts, drunk the water out of them, eaten the flesh out of them, and then rinsed them to use as bowls. The entire time, Myungjun was calm and thoughtful and reasonable.
After their coconut break, they resumed combing the beach for more supplies washed ashore, and they considered options for food. They could use a rock to sharpen a stick and maybe spear some fish in the shallows. They’d found some tin cups among the plane supplies they could use to boil water and make it safe to drink -- just beyond the trees there was a little stream that had fresh water.
Myungjun experimented, and they could use the lenses pushed out of his glasses and doubled up to start a fire. They agreed to just keep it going perpetually, because if there was bad weather they might not be able to start it again, so Jinwoo went to find fuel for the fire among the trees while Myungjun continued to collect plane debris.
By the end of the day, Jinwoo was exhausted, sick of coconut, and sunburnt. He and Myungjun curled up beneath their flimsy little shelter and tried to sleep.
Jinwoo closed his eyes and snuggled closer to Myungjun, because now that the sun was down it was much colder -- and he felt Myungjun tremble in his arms.
“Hyung?”
Myungjun sniffled.
Oh no. He was crying. He’d been so calm and hardworking and almost cheerful all day, but it couldn’t have lasted.
Jinwoo tugged Myungjun around to face him. “Hey. I’m here. We’re together. You did well today. You saved us, all right?” He fumbled in the dark, wiped away Myungjun’s tears.
Myungjun clung to him, crying harder.
“Hyung,” Jinwoo whispered. “It’s okay to cry. Just --”
Just Jinwoo was a sympathy crier, and he burst into tears, and they sobbed together until they both ran out of energy and tears, and then they lay there, gazing at the flames of their bonfire.
“We’ll be okay, won’t we?” Myungjun asked. “They’ll find us. We’ll make it home.”
“We will,” Jinwoo said, because he had to, he had to believe it.
Myungjun burrowed into Jinwoo’s embrace, and together they fell asleep.
They were awakened hours later by the roar of a helicopter and a man shouting over a megaphone.
They both scrambled to their feet and ran to the bonfire, scooped up the white shirts they’d salvaged and waved them back and forth, cheering and crying as a helicopter hovered above them in the sky, spotlight blazing down on them like sunlight.
They were going home.