At exactly 11.37 a.m. on the twenty-third of July, a piece of the sky fell into Hyejin’s lap. It wasn’t the first time it happened, and so she wasn’t taken by surprise; besides, the news had mentioned the possibility of happenings such as this, and that it was perfectly normal and nothing to worry about.

But today was a bit different. The first difference was that the piece was, unlike others, much bigger, and so Hyejin could easily pick it up between her fingers and examine it.

The second difference was that her girlfriend, with whom she had been having a very pleasant picnic lunch, had jolted in surprise at the fallen piece of sky and was now staring at it with horrified eyes. It was almost as if she hadn’t expected it at all.

Hyejin cocked her head at her girlfriend. “Didn’t you read the news, Yongsun?”

“T-the news?” Yongsun blinked, dazed, at her. “Of course I did. Why?”

“Well, the news did mention chances of falling sky pieces…” Hyejin pointed out.

Yongsun stared at her. It was an odd stare, as if there was something she wanted so desperately to say but couldn’t. Hyejin could almost see the words trying to escape from her lips. In the end, to Hyejin’s private disappointment, Yongsun nodded slowly, as if quietly accepting some alien concept. “I suppose they did. I just forgot.”

Hyejin patted her hand in consolation. “It’s alright. You just came back from your trip, I guess you’re still tired.” She picked up the fallen piece of sky in her lap and examined it. “Isn’t it strange, though? The sky feels grainy, a little bit gritty, almost like paint flakes.” And indeed it did remind her of the paint that tended to crumble off the walls of her house time after time.

Yongsun laughed nervously. “Well, isn’t that just strange.”

Hyejin raised her eyebrows at Yongsun’s tone of voice. Pinching the sky piece between her fingers, she looked up towards the sky from where the piece had fallen. Suddenly, Yongsun grabbed her face and planted a quick kiss on a corner of her lips.

Hyejin laughed in surprise. “What was that for?”

Yongsun shrugged, averting her eyes. “Just felt like it.” Raising her gaze, she visibly relaxed at the sight of an approaching couple. “Oh, looks like we've got company.”

“Who?” Hyejin turned her head to look in the same direction. Her eyes narrowed and she unconsciously curled her lip. “Oh, them.”

There was no real reason behind her instinctive dislike of the other couple. They were nice women, friendly and kind, and they liked Hyejin and Yongsun quite a fair bit. Yongsun clearly felt the same way about them, from the way her face would light up like a child receiving presents to the almost intimate touches shared between them. 

Perhaps that explained some of the unease she felt around them. She noted the way Yongsun smiled at the silver-haired woman, Byulyi. It was the sort of slow smile that indicated a shared secret (or many) and Hyejin could feel -- was it anger? -- begin to brew in her gut. 

“Hey, Hyejin, haven't seen you in a while. How's it going?” 

Hyejin glared up at Byulyi’s companion, a woman with short blonde hair that bounced with every step she took. A polite smile was plastered on her face, creating a dimple in her right cheek so deep that it could probably contain a whole cup of water.

What Hyejin hated the most about her, though, was the almost pitying look in her eyes that contrasted with her smiling face. Those soft, sad eyes were not meant for her, and Hyejin did not understand why she could never stop staring at them. 

So she sighed and looked away. “Hi, Wheein. I'm fine.”

Wheein smiled and sat down next to her. Hyejin deliberately moved herself away by a full inch, but Wheein seemed not to notice. “That's good to hear. Byulyi and I-” she gestured to her companion engaged in deep conversation with Yongsun “-wanted to go for a walk today, just to, you know, take a breather and stuff. We didn't expect to see you two here.”

Sure, Hyejin thought inwardly. Let's pretend we all didn’t know the whole thing was a ruse to bother us on our date, let's pretend we all like Hyejin, let's pretend like Yongsun and Byulyi aren't having a ing affair behind our backs because it's so ING OBVIOUS. 

“Hyejin?” Wheein touched her hand lightly. “Are you okay? You don’t look so well.”

“What?” Hyejin jolted herself out of her thoughts and quickly withdrew the hand that Wheein was touching. “I’m fine. It’s fine.”

“If you say so,” Wheein said, still watching Hyejin, concerned. She pointed to the piece of sky in Hyejin’s lap. “What’s that, by the way?”

“Oh, this?” Hyejin glanced down at it. “A piece of the sky fell down just now. Haven’t you seen the news?”

Wheein frowned. “Hyejin, that doesn’t make sense. The sky can’t fall down, it’s not scientifically possible.”

“What are you even talking about?” Hyejin sneered at her. Wheein gazed quietly at her, then flicked her eyes upwards. Without making a sound, she nudged Hyejin to do the same.

Hyejin rolled her eyes but complied. In the middle of the perfectly blue sky was a black dot, so tiny that if one didn't pay much attention they would not have noticed it at all. But Hyejin was curious, just a bit too curious, and her eyes extremely sharp, and so she realised that the black dot was exactly the shape of the piece of sky that had fallen into her lap. 

But that was to be expected, wasn’t it? After all, the sky did fall into her lap. So she shrugged. “And what about it?” she asked Wheein.

“Look a little c-” Wheein suddenly stopped mid-sentence and slapped a hand over her ear. Out of the corner of her eye Hyejin noticed Yongsun and Byulyi doing the same. 

“What's wrong?” Hyejin asked, concerned. 

“O-oh, well,” Wheein hurriedly checked her watch and gave Hyejin a strained smile. “We really should get going, we've taken up too much of your time.”

“You've only been here for literally five minutes.” Hyejin watched as Wheein stood up, and when she bent down to brush the grass off her jeans Hyejin instinctively grabbed her arm. “Wheein, what's going on?”

Wheein looked at her with the same sad, pitying eyes that Hyejin despised so much. She reached out her free hand and tugged Hyejin forward slightly. “Pay attention,” Wheein murmured. “Things are not what they seem.” With that, she patted Hyejin’s hand gently and left.

That night Hyejin had the strangest dreams, of the blue sky disappearing to reveal only blackness, not like that of night but that of emptiness, completely devoid of stars or clouds. She dreamt of the floor crumbling beneath her, of her house collapsing. Worst of all, she dreamt of Yongsun and Byulyi and Wheein leaving her behind, the three of them in their own world that she knew she could never be part of.

*

The next time she saw Wheein was purely by accident. She was standing alone, leaning against a wall in a darkened corner of an alley, and Hyejin was passing by after buying some groceries.

“Wheein?”

The dark-haired woman looked up from her phone. “Oh, Hyejin. Didn’t expect to see you here.” The look on her face clearly said otherwise, and it was almost as if she had been waiting here in this very spot for the whole day until Hyejin arrived. 

“Well,” Hyejin shrugged and lifted her groceries, “I needed to top up on some chips.”

Wheein immediately tucked her phone into her back pocket and hopped towards Hyejin. In one fluid movement she took one of the grocery bags from Hyejin and grinned. “Let me help you with that.” She quickly dashed off with Hyejin’s chips, leaving her with no choice but to run after her.

Hyejin dropped her bags the second she arrived at her front door and doubled over to catch her breath. Wheein, also panting, tossed her a small pack of chips before dropping to the ground and leaning against the house. “Here, eat something.”

Hyejin tossed it back. “I need water, you idiot.”

“Oh. Right.” Wheein pointed her thumb at the door next to her. “Better get that open, then.”

Groaning, Hyejin dragged herself the few inches to her front door and unlocked it. After filling two cups with water, she went back out and sat down next to Wheein. “Here you go,” she said, passing one of the cups to her.

“Thanks.” Wheein gulped down the entire cup of water in one go and closed her eyes. “Ugh, I was way too unfit for that sort of move.”

“You’re telling me,” Hyejin grumbled, savouring each sip of water as she leaned back. “So why did you run?”

“So I would have the chance to be able to talk to you where no one else can see us.”

Hyejin was confused. What in the world was that supposed to mean? “Well, we could always go inside my house if you really wanted to talk somewhere private,” she offered.

Wheein shook her head. “That’s exactly it. We can’t do that because people will hear us.”

“Wheein, I live alone.”

Wheein chuckled drily. “Didn’t you heed my advice? I said to pay attention to the world around you. Things aren’t what they seem, Hyejin. The walls have eyes and ears on you everywhere you go. They know everything you do, every second of the day.”

Hyejin was absolutely confused by Wheein’s words. “I… I don’t get you.”

“Here.” From her back pocket Wheein took out her phone. It was not the phone that Hyejin knew Wheein carried; this was a different model that she had never seen before. On the back of the phone tucked inside a transparent silicone case was a Polaroid photograph of Wheein, Yongsun, and Byulyi together, smiling with peace signs for the camera. What drew Hyejin’s attention to the photo was not the happy trio, however, but the location where the photograph was taken. It was in front of a large, glass crystalline structure, and written overhead was what could only be taken as the name of the building: BridgeWorld Entertainment.

Curious, Hyejin pointed to the photo. “Where’s this?”

Wheein turned her phone over. “Ah.” She hesitated, then, taking a deep breath, gestured to their surroundings. “It’s here. We’re here.”

“You what now? Wheein, we’re literally in a small town, and I’m talking about a building.”

“They’re the same thing, Hyejin,” Wheein admitted, sighing. “This whole place is a false reality contained in a building. I’ve been watching the vids whenever I could, and…. This was one of the few blind spots I could find.”

She gave Hyejin, whose mouth was agape with shock, a rueful smile. “Even if they can’t really see us, they can still hear us. I’m sorry, Hyejin, but I don’t want you to be trapped here anymore. You deserve a better life.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Hyejin clutched her head in her hands. “That doesn’t make sense, Wheein. People live here, I’ve seen them. I have friends here, I have – I had a girlfriend who lived near me. What are you trying to get at? What videos are you talking about?”

Wheein barked out a laugh and stood up to stretch. “Think about it, Hyejin. Have you ever seen any of your friends out at night?” Mid-stretch, she winced and slapped a hand over her ear. “Ah, . I gotta go. They heard the whole thing.”

“‘They’? Who’s ‘they’?” Hyejin asked, growing increasingly flabbergasted.

“Everyone, Hyejin. The directors, the stage crew, the whole world. Everyone tuning into this channel can hear us.”

“How-” Her brain overflowing with all this new information, Hyejin broke down and covered her face with her hands. It was too much to learn in one sitting, and her mind was a whirlpool of emotion.

Wheein bent down again and took Hyejin into her arms, holding on as Hyejin struggled to process her reality. “Hey, Hyejin,” she muttered quietly. “The next time we meet, it’ll be under the sky. Not a painted ceiling on a set, but the real one, with the sun beating down on our faces and the wind messing up our hair.” 

Wheein released her grip on Hyejin and stood up to leave. She grinned a clever grin, her eyes shining with excitement and her body aglow from the light behind her as she described the world that she was from. Hyejin’s heart skipped a beat at the sight; the woman before her was like – and she would never admit it, not in a million years – but at that very moment, the woman before her was like a goddess that promised her the world.

“Ahn Hyejin, come with me,” Wheein proclaimed, “and I will show you the world.” And with a smile – for the first time, more hopeful than sad or pitying – she walked away.

Hyejin never saw Wheein after that, though her words did haunt Hyejin for the next few days. “I will show you the world.” Hyejin was utterly enraptured by the idea of leaving the little town she lived in; and if what Wheein said was really true, the little town sandwiched between two large mountains wasn’t even a town at all, was it, if it was all fake?

After a long bout of rumination, Hyejin decided to find out the truth for herself. If there were cameras surveilling her every move, she would find out. Meanwhile, she had to act as normal and unbothered as possible.

The first time she found a camera it took Hyejin everything she had in her body to not exclaim in triumph. The camera perched upon her cupboard wasn’t too hard to spot now that she was actively looking for it. In fact, she might have noticed it multiple times, but merely dismissed it. Wheein was right: she had not been paying enough attention to the world around her. It made her think about how many cameras there really were, watching her day in and day out. Who would find joy in watching her carry out her daily tasks, or even just the simple act of waking up and going to bed? The idea of her everyday life -- eating, sleeping, listening to music or going to work -- being used as actual televised entertainment baffled her, and the idea of such voyeurism extremely creepy, to say the least.

Now she had to ask herself a crucial question: how was she going to escape this town without being noticed? If Wheein was right, there would be cameras watching her every move, every second of every day, even at night. There was no subtle way of doing it. 

Unless…

*

Three in the morning was the right time to start, Hyejin thought. No one was awake at this time of day -- it was the hour where even ghosts had gone to sleep, and time rested on the back of a tortoise.

It was perfect.

She knew where the blind spots were by now. There was one near the convenience store where she always bought her snacks; another near her old high school, next to the gym; and the odd patch of yellowing grass at the back of her neighbour’s house. Over the few days prior to today, Hyejin had purposely gotten closer to her neighbour, an elderly man in desperate need of a new pair of glasses, just to scout out the area. Of course, she felt bad doing this to the poor man, but she had no choice. 

Hyejin secretly swore to herself that if she ever saw her elderly neighbour outside of this falsified town, she’d definitely buy him a new pair of glasses. 

While she was mowing the lawn for her neighbour the other day, Hyejin had secretly left the back gate -- which was connected to her own house -- unlocked. Sneaking past it now, she took out a shovel, one small enough to be hidden, but sturdy enough to survive long bouts of digging. Sticking the shovel into the ground, she exhaled sharply.

“Hyejin,” she whispered to herself. “Today marks the first step towards your freedom.”

With a grunt, she stabbed the shovel into the patch of yellow grass and started to dig.

*

It was actually quite a miracle that her neighbour failed to notice the sudden appearance of a hefty boulder at the back of her house until weeks later. By the time the neighbour had discovered it, however, it was too late. Hyejin had already disappeared into her makeshift tunnel hours before. If she had gotten her bearings right, she would be near the base of the mountain that blocked off her little town from the rest of civilisation as she knew it.

Striking upwards with her shovel, Hyejin dug and dug until she saw a glimmer of light peeking through the hole. Almost crying from relief, she frantically clawed her way out of the tunnel into bright sunlight. Glancing up from where she crawled up, she pumped her fists in victory.

She was here. Finally. The mountain towered over her, its peak touching the sky, a mass of trees and earth and rocks standing between her and the rest of the world. She reached out to the mountain. Her fingers sunk into grass, pierced through soft earth, and touched the cold surface of a metal lever. 

All of a sudden, the reality of the situation started to sink in for her. Here she stood, one step away from the reality that she knew, one step away from the reality that actually was. A whirlpool of unexplainable feelings began to overwhelm her, and tears formed in her eyes.

Wiping her tears away with the back of her hand, she checked her watch. It was eight in the morning. Hyejin wondered whether people would be tuning into their televisions now, watching as people back in her town scurried all over to find her. She wondered whether she’d ever miss this place, this little town that she called home. Perhaps she would, one day far in the future.

Perhaps.

“You don’t have to do this, Hyejin,” a quiet voice interjected her thoughts. Hyejin turned around to see her elderly neighbour watching her with thoughtful eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t know what’s out there, do you? It’s a world filled with hate, where everyone struggles to survive. People will find a reason to fight you even if you didn’t do anything to provoke them. People will abuse you, abuse the ones you love, just because they can.” The old man stared at her, his face grim. “Could you accept that sort of life?”

Hyejin paused. The old man was coming from a place of concern for the young woman, that she understood. She ruminated over her words, trying to string them together into a coherent sentence that conveyed her thoughts and feelings. 

“For every negative word that leaves someone’s mouth, I will counter it with a positive one. For every blow that rains upon me, I will give them a hug. For if there is hate out there, then surely, there must be love, for no world could exist without a balance of the two.” She grinned at the old man. “That is my resolve.”

The old man sighed. His delicate shoulders lifted and fell gracefully. “Then I cannot stop you.”

Turning her attention back to the mountain, Hyejin closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Wrapping her fingers around the lever embedded into the earth, she turned it, once. Her eyes flew open as a rectangular door cut itself away from the mountain, swinging open to blackness.

She turned to the old man again, the only semblance of her past. “What will you do after this?”

He thought it over, then answered: “I suppose I will pay my children a visit for the first time in many, many years. What about you?”

Hyejin smiled. “There’s someone I need to find. She said she’s going to show me the world.”

“Then I wish good luck to us both.”

Looking down, Hyejin took her first trembling step into the darkness. When her foot met solid ground, she took another step forward, then another, and another. And when she stumbled, she fell into waiting arms.

A wondrous laugh, a familiar scent. Hyejin looked up into Wheein’s beautiful eyes, shining with delight and love and awe and all things great. “Hi,” Wheein whispered.

“Hi,” Hyejin echoed. “You’re here.”

“And always will be,” Wheein replied. Taking Hyejin’s hand, enveloping it in hers, Wheein beamed. “Let’s go see the world.”