archiveidjuniper-blog

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JAWBREAKER’S JUNIPER TEAMS UP WITH ATLAS’ GUN AND RELEASES A FULL VERSION OF ‘NO WAY’

1. [ +902 , -187 ] Finally ㅠㅠㅠㅠ I’ve been waiting for this since she talked about it on the show ㅠㅠ  2. [ +671 , -121 ] Hul, as a world I’m so proud of our Gun PD ㅠㅠ The song is exactly~ my type, and isn’t this combo seriously something else?? Their styles really fit together well 3. [ +381 , -92 ] Isn’t this the girl that keeps getting known because of other names first? ㅋㅋㅋ Her dad, that bully from Olympus, and now someone from Atlas? Wow~~ Who is she gonna attach her name to next~?

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idtaeho‌:

he approaches her after he bows to the cameramen and crew, dressed all in black from head to toe. the green lights give her an almost ethereal look, something outlandish, out of this world. he smiles. it’s been a while. “you don’t have to worry, the water is warm,” he whispers as he approaches. there are too many eyes here so he keeps a safe distance. “liked the set? what do you think?” the casualty of his tone would make it seem like they’re colleagues, industry friends at most. not that they’ve been through what they’ve been through. not that jua hasn’t picked up his last call, months ago, the two of them not seeing each other for a while now. no. his tone of voice doesn’t show that at all. but when he looks at her, he knows that she can see it. makes sure of it. that old known mix that he always feels whenever he is around her. 

something that seems like desire. something that seems like hatred. 

there are a lot of questions she has.

first is, what is olympus thinking, letting him release something like this? second is, why on earth did kjh allow her to be in it - well, okay, she has to take a lot of responsibility for that one, for the way she branded herself before, in the years of next to no attention. but still. 

the third question, the final and most important question, is did he ask for her on this video purposefully, or is it a grand, cosmic disaster? jawbreaker’s image allows her this, her personal image helps, but the fact she’s going to be filming this with him now is almost too much. almost too terrible. she pulls a breath, it fills her lungs. it stings, and then it burns, and then it screams, and she lets it go slow. get ahold of yourself juniper, she murmurs in the depths of her head. get it together. it’s just another schedule. 

but she’s never been a good actress. 

the solo scenes were easy. take off a robe, look hot, pose with sultry eyes and slightly parted legs, lips half open to match. look imminently fuckable but also like you could bite someone’s head off if you were wronged. a black widow sort of feel. it’s easy, also, to fall into the scenes with him in other settings. the car, laughing and playful, or the ones just sitting behind him while he raps. but the whole embrace underwater thing, that’s another topic. that’s another task to consider. 

her stomach is fluttering as if with a million butterfly wings, as she approaches the set. she gets there first, in a white shirt (of course) and so on. he’s far more clothed than she is, which has her angry in the back of her head about the male gaze and the sexualization rampant in the industry, but she’s not the one to fight that fight. not when she’s been all but weaponizing it for her own gain all these years. instead she smiles benign at him, thin lipped and restrained. like she’s waiting for him to strike, body tense with the preparedness to run. he makes her feel weak, and she hates that. he makes her feel uncertain and she hates that even more. 

he whispers and it snakes around her spine like silk, slipping between vertebrae. she curls her thumb into the hem of her shirt and tugs, the slight movement betraying the fluttering of her heartbeat, hummingbird quick beneath her skin, battering against her ribcage. “i think it’s a bit gratuitous,” she tells him candidly, lips arranged in a slight purse, critical and unaffected. a fake expression brought up like a shield. “i bet it was all your idea, too,” she means, was it your idea for me to be here? she means, is this all just another trap?

i can’t feel you

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idsohee‌:

sohee reaches for the water bottle and hands it over to juniper, takes another one for herself and gulps down half of the liquid, feels good to finally get rid of the thirst. juniper’s question makes her laugh, and she brushes a few strands of hair away from her face before saying, ”how do i have so much energy? i don’t know, i guess i just have it.” she’s always been like that since she was born anyways. “the song? at first i was like ddu du ddu du? what the hell? and then it gets better when you hear the song, because that’s how the title makes sense. i think the song’s fine, but the dance? maybe not so. latata still has the best choreography for sure,” she tells juniper, a tired smile on her face. “what about you? do you think it’s good?” she asks, wants to know how her group mate feels about the new song. “don’t tell ellie unnie, but i really like your rap part. junie spitting fire like that in a song? everyone’s gonna get burned.”

as summer approaches, so too does the humidity. you’d think a girl who spent the better part of her adolescence in georgia would be used to humidity, but seoul excelled even in that, in a way that did little but overwhelm her. the heat sticks to her skin and drags her into exhaustion, lungs seeming to fill with the water laden air until she struggles for a breath. she pulls the windows closed as they pause in their practices, moving to crank on the fan in turn, turns up the air conditioning for good measure. “i hate korean summers,” she laments with a sigh, speaking more to the window than to anyone in particular, shifting to sit down on the floor, as if to escape the heat by sinking lower to the ground. she’s pretty sure it doesn’t really work that way, but science class from her youth indicated it might, and she’ll give anything a  try. she tugs at the edges of her crop top to arrange it properly as she settles into place, laughing. 

“well, share me some. i feel like an old woman.” she laments dramatically, examines her face in the full height mirrors across from them, as if seeking out signs of nonexistent wrinkles. “you’re incredible, really,” she sighs, puffing out her cheeks, an expression that melts her from a girl crush into an oversized baby, and has been thus relegated to offstage only. it’s all about that ferocity of image, after all. she hazards out a question, tosses it towards the other to see what sticks, interested in what her opinion is. she’s tried not to ask about it so far, considering her own feelings, but she’s curious and it overwhelms her now. 

“i think it all kinda sucks.” she admits somewhat sheepishly. “i mean i get it as a concept, hype song, powerful, blah dee blah, but...” she trails off, scratches at the side of her nose, then twists her ponytail around her hand idly. “it’s just...kind of a dumb song. wish they would have just picked mine for a title again,” she grumbles, pouting a little, “i mean i get it, i do, but....” she groans, flopping backwards to lay down on the floor once more. “it feels like a rewind in sound, you k now? it’s much more... singularity instead of kjh, i think. but it’s on trend for right now, so i think people will like it, and buy it, and i guess that’s really what matters.”  at the mention of ellie an expression of trepidation crosses her features. “i was surprised there were two bits this time.” she admits, sighing a little, “i hope ellie isn’t upset about it.” she adds, chewing at the inside of her cheek idly. “ i feel like she might be. with media comparing us all the time and all, already. if they’d just picked my forever young it’d have been better, they gave her more parts in that song.” she pauses, “gave you less though, which is still totally not what i intended with that, just wanna throw that out there.” she shrugs, “i dunno how they decide that stuff. i get why they didn’t pick it though, there’s not much rap in it, and i guess that’s what they’re wanting this comeback. i’m just...like, slightly bitter though. only slightly.” she holds her fingers a short distance apart to give an idea.  she sighs, takes another drink, changes the subject with a, “how’s dancing9 going?”

round and round.

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idxchanyeol‌:

“Been a long time since I’ve played this game, there are probably better people to ask. All I know is that when the circus leaves town people will still expect the same performance, so however you decide to present yourself, make sure you’re comfortable with it sticking with you.” The statement is about as sagely as he can manage, though he recognizes that it isn’t all that helpful. Chanyeol had never claimed to be any kind of teacher or philosopher; just a rapper with a vague idea of her current situation and the potential aftermath. Jua has the benefit of being an established brand before the show, an idol hardened to the unflinching criticism of netizens; though that is as much a curse as it is a blessing. “Unless the show flops or whatever. Or you flop. If that happens none of this really matters.” The last comment is thrown out with a characteristic air of nonchalance, paired with an uncharacteristic hint of humour. “I’m sure you’ll be fine regardless. People with far less talent have won things like this. Just don’t do anything catastrophically dumb.”

“you are uniquely well equipped for the whole jaded bullshit role, it’s true,” she agrees with a friendly grin, not a bit bothered by the man. it’s the sort of attitude that often doesn’t fly well in this country, particularly in a career where image means so very much, and she respects him for remaining true to himself, even when he becomes grating or cruel. there are few with the sort of dedication to self to do that. “kids,” she grumbles with a grin despite herself, “i resent the infantililzation,” she teases in turn, crosses one leg over the other and leans back into her chair, a thoughtful sigh on her lips. she moves to spin the straw in her drink around the edge, an idle movement to distract the senses. 

juniper has had a uniquely long time to consider her personal image and direction. months of waiting without promotion in the singularity practice rooms and studios, years watching her parents craft their own images, plan their own projects, discussing with friends who had levels of fame juniper could only ever dream to obtain.  she’d been exposed to this world for so long sometimes the planning and plotting of it seemed like second nature. and sometimes it seemed an overwhelming and insurmountable task. she nods along as the other continues, grin flickering over her lips as she does. “you’re right, of course. might as well use all the tools at my disposal. pride be damned.’  her laugh is jagged, sharp edges that scrape her throat. 

“you always know the right things to say,” she teases, but she means it. chanyeol doesn’t sugar coat, doesn’t make promises or assumptions, doesn’t inflate the ego undeservedly. it can be so difficult to find someone who speaks with that kind of honesty and understanding, someone who is both entrenched in the industry and has neither been brutalized by it nor idealizes it. so many hide behind one type of lie or another, it sometimes seems as if only chanyeol observes the world with sharpness and clarity and for that she can stomach all the bitterness and jaded repertoire in the world.  “i feel like avoiding the truly catastrophically dumb is imminently possible, so that’s nice at least.” she laughs, “giving me hope here, bit by bit.”  she takes a sip from her refreshed drink. “at least none of it can be worse than fucking around in the practice rooms of singularity for five more years of obscurity.” 

life in tension

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idjaeyul‌:

he holds open the door for her, the boisterous laughter of his so-called friends greeting them from the corner in which they’re situated. they’re allowed to be loud, they can be as reckless and disgusting as they want because they’re jae’s friends, and it comes at the cost of his name, not theirs. “i hope you’re hungry,” he murmurs, hand resting near her lower back, lips tilting upwards as if he’s amused by her ambivalence. 

he calls and she goes, and this is familiar. but why? what is it that brings her back when he calls - maybe a lack of anything better to do. maybe a desire to drown in the darkness that he offers up to her. and sometimes, the way he looks at her, like he wants to consume, well, a girl could easily get lost in that. eyes dark enough to drown in, so she throws herself off the precipice, waiting to shatter against the rocks at the bottom. he brings with him the promise of pain as much as pleasure, and perhaps in that she finds a sort of solace. with jaeyul there are few ambiguities, the straightforward nature of disappointment and derision, the twist of cruelty on his lips. a wolf with shining sharp teeth ready to devour. 

everything about him screams predator, from the way he seems to prowl through the dark night to the intensity of his gaze, from the grip of his hand against the door, the ripple of muscle tight wound around bone. “if i had anywhere to be i wouldn’t have shown up,” she points out, effectively places him last on the list of priorities, because he’s challenged her to do so. he goads her in that way, prompts her to challenge him, to tease, and for all her defiance she is also accommodating, a soft contradiction of silks and steel, sleek and shining. 

she’s not impressed by the shitty little game he’s playing here, as she steps into the restaurant and finds a crowd of boisterous men clustered in the corner, eyes like hawks ready to pick her apart. she glances askance at him and sees the curl of his lips there taunting, ready to mock. “seriously?” is what she offers, flat lined and unimpressed, clicks her tongue. “what a waste of a night,” she decides aloud, softly in his ear before she crosses to the corner of the restaurant his friends now occupy, feels him follow in her wake. easy introductions, casual and quick, before she settles to sit, annoyance firmly tamped down in the pit of her stomach. she’s barely in the mood for seeing jaeyul, much less a bunch of his friends, people she doesn’t know and doesn’t care to know, frankly speaking. not  to mention the last thing she needs for her image is to be out in public with a whole crew of idiots crowing and cawing around the city. she makes a quiet promise to herself to sneak out at first opportunity. 

red.

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idminsoo‌: 

“actually, there’s something i was hoping to learn from you,” he says. he takes advantage of the short break where the director is talking to the musicians and huddles closer to juniper. 

while juniper is usually not one to revel in compliments from others, largely assuming them to be exaggerated, she has to admit that minsoo’s casual praise warms her heart a little, pulls a shy grin to her lips despite herself. “ah, you know how to stroke an ego don’t you?” she laughs out, leans back in her chair a little bit to pout at her reflection. “stage presence is one thing when the song is really...hard hitting. but i never feel like i quite know how to pull it off if in a ballad, you know? it’s got to be so precise and so perfect i think i get too wrapped up in my head,” is her admission, examining her reflection as if looking long enough will reveal the future, will show her the mistakes she might make today and how she will be able to avoid them, or not. she turns her attentions back to him with a wry smile parting her lips, “at least one of us is confident in me,” she decides with a bright laugh, adjusting her hair slightly in the mirror. “i mean like i’m not entirely unconfident, but there’s some trepidation going on.”

minsoo is a familiar face at least, and his voice is lovely to say the least, and if he’s confident in her maybe she can borrow a little of that for herself, inject it into her veins until she believes, also, that she can do this. well, that’s not quite right. she believes herself capable of completing the stage - but performing up to her own standards? that’s another thing entirely, not so easily done. but she likes the song, something familiar from a movie she remembers enjoying at least in a general sense, and it’s got the edge of rawness that the soft rock delivers to it, which she can appreciate. her voice has never been truly suited for the pure and soaring, the flickering saccharine soprano lilt often expected.  she’s examining the lyrics again, running through the stage blocking in her head, when minsoo pulls her attention once more. 

she glances over to find him closer now, and it feels like they are sharing a secret, hushed tones, a little closer than they should be. like school kids sharing secrets on the playground. she nods a little, eyes wide in earnest interest, brows arching upwards curiously. “yeah, of course, what’s up?” she murmurs, tilts her head in accompaniment to the question, “i mean i dunno how good a teacher i am or anything but i’ll give it a shot and all.”

jenga.

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idaroon‌:

“i feel like i’ll let everyone down if i don’t win, you know?” he asks as they stop by a small shop in the market, it seems to sell all sorts of food and aroon makes a gesture for them to enter. “like this is not only my chance, but titanium’s too. to put our name out there, to gather more fans. i don’t know, i feel a lot of pressure to win this damn thing. or maybe it’s how i was raised to be. failure was never an option for my parents.” he sighs. ��do you think you’ll win yours?”

“seriously, it was a blessing and a half, wasn’t it?” she agrees regarding the lengthy flight. it’s funny, usually spending that long confined to one place, forced away from the outside world would drive her batty. it would crawl under her skin in creeping shreds of anxiety and work her up into restless and fidgety. but she’d been tired lately, ever so tired, with the show and promotions and producing and this and that. trying, trying, trying to be something more than what she was now. so many were quick to claim she was a bubble waiting to pop, a balloon fit only to burst, a spoiled girl with no real talent. and god above, she wanted nothing more than to prove them wrong, nothing more than to escape such a label. but it was hard to peel that off, the words sticking to her skin and branding her.

she likes this place, this world away from her world, the freshness of the air and the ring of unfamiliar language in her ears. there’s an air of romance to that, in the nebulous sense of something strange and new. it fills up her heart with something buoyant that might feel like freedom as they stroll along the streets, utterly unbothered, unrecognized, unknown. she wears that unknowing like a cape, like a shield. she asks the question they both always ask, the things they both always wonder, nodding along as he replies, with a laugh at his aroon answer versus his real answers, sighing softly. they slip into a little market and she begins to examine it all with fascination. 

“i completely understand,” she admits, flashes him a sympathetic smile and pats at his shoulder softly. “it’s so much pressure. jawbreaker is like, doing okay right now. barely, but look what it took for us to do decently? our company went under without telling us and sold us off like second hand goods. i feel like if i can pull this off...i could prove something, to people. you know? and not just that jawbreaker isn’t a bubble to pop, but that...i’m not just riding dad’s coattails. i’m not just an instagram whore, or whatever.  like, i could turn this into something real, you know?” she sighs, nose scrunching up as she thinks, eyes squinting to puzzle out the lettering on a box in front of her as if it will mean anything to her if she stares at it long enough. “i’d like to think i have a non zero chance of it,” is her diplomatic answer. “i’m not sure, really. but there’s a good shot for it, anyway.” 

wanderlust.

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jueunid‌:

jueun took another drink from her straw, letting the taste wash over her before speaking up again. “have you been working on any new music?” it was always easier to ask about others than talk about herself. 

juniper grew up without a filter, without a barrier between her and the public. juniper featured on the social media of her parents from an early age, her birth announced in magazines (not the front page or anything now, don’t go crazy about it, but an actress and a rapper/producer pulled some decent attention regardless). the show helped with that too, exposed every instance of her childish whims and wanderings to the fascinated public, left strangers sure that they knew her approaching her on playgrounds and outings. juniper - then jua - grew up without the need to hide herself because it wasn’t expected of her. she was contributing to the family specifically by not hiding anything.

 at least until witch hunts had broken out over the veracity of her father’s education, all fully unfounded but the media had been a dog with a bone about it. so they’d sent her to her paternal grandparents to live, where she had donned the mantle of juniper, where she had grown up surrounded by sticky hot summers and cicadas, snow a distant dream of another land, english tangling up her tongue. and just when she’d really adjusted to that, learned to live that way, learned to love a world without hierarchies or the expectations her parents’ names placed on her, she’d been brought right back again. 

and at that point, juniper had decided pretending just didn’t work out for her. now, don’t get her wrong. she could perform, certainly, but her music carried with it honesty and her lyrics with it. her social media was not impeccably curated, except in a casual attempt to draw as much attention to her once-failing group as possible.  in the end juniper had become a big proponent of “whatever works”. and so far it had earned her, them, a second chance. a hail mary. it had gotten her the first credits to her name, and one of them a title, a title that had stolen their first win into her greedy clutches. 

she takes a sip from her drink, hoping it will abet the tension headache that lurks at her temples and presses down between her shoulders. “somewhat, i guess,” she decides after weighing the question, shrugging slightly. “not like constantly, but maybe once a week or so on average i reckon.” she tilts her head to the side in consideration of it, glances over at the other girl, “why do ya ask, hm?”  jueun takes another gulp from her drink, fields another question, and juniper grins a little bit over at her. “yeah, of course. actually, there’s that song i just finished up with gunwoo, the one from unpretty. i hope it goes over well but i guess we’ll see.” she muses, spins the straw around the edge of her drink in thoughtful movements. i don’t have a lot of time right now though, with promotions and all.” she shrugs slightly, laughing a little. “how have you kept busy lately?”

vulnerable

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idhyukjae‌:

“ddu du ddu du is pretty catchy, by the way. i already know you’ll have everyone going crazy about it.” he brings one hand up and scratches the back of his neck, “music video was pretty cool too, which doesn’t surprise me. everything you guys do looks pretty powerful production wise and whatnot. so that was kind of a given.” his free hand gently rests on her back as he leads the way to the coffee cart she mentioned just moments ago, obviously takes advantage of not being surrounded by many people anymore, “and you looked really good in it too. but that… you already know that, don’t you?”.

she’d never have expected it, but the boys of titanium have come to be uniquely important to her. milo is like a brother figure to her, a protector, someone whom she in turn must also look after,  but familial nonetheless. aroon is a dear friend to her heart, hyukjae a companion she can understand on a unique level. jeno is... well, she’ll gloss over jeno for now. at least he’s a good lay, she can say that much. and his smile is cute,  even if he won’t ever properly shut up.

she wants more for titanium than the world has given them, finds it unfair that they’re struggling to gain the recognition they deserve. they’re doing something interesting, something intriguing, and you don’t always find that in the industry these days, especially not out of the bigger companies with their chrome-like polish and shine. they slip outside of the room and head down the hallway, the shining tile floors lending a maze-like quality to grey washed walls and the beige ceiling above. she knows them like the back of her hand now, after so many years on the scene, years spent following along after her father as a toddling young thing. it’s a quieter walk now, with the flurry of bodies clustered closer to the studio itself for filming, retreating into the recesses of the building. she slides her hands into her pockets, remembers they’re minuscule, retrieves them to cross her arms over her chest instead. if only women’s clothing had real pockets. if only she got to wear like, actual functional clothing on stage, but then it wouldn’t be much of a costume would it? a lamentation fort he ages.

she nods along as the other speaks, more than understanding of the struggle. her years in her.oine had made sure of that, after all. it was both humbling and horrible to be functionally treated by some (who fancied themselves clever, hierarchical, cruel) as a rookie once more, after having clawed her way along for so long, with such fervent desperation. “yeah... it’s pretty bullshit.” she agrees, sways to the side lightly to bump into his shoulder gently. “but i mean. we only barely got ours just lately. so i’m sure it’s got to be on the horizon for you guys.” she believes this firmly, truly, “there was just a lot of competition this round, with nitro’s unit and inferno...at least inferno still didn’t snag anything,” she adds helpfully, not that she has anything against the boys, but the media narrative has always pit them against one another and it’d be a shit sure shame to have to face those headlines. she knew from experience.

 hyukjae continues to speak and june’s expression falters slightly, lips tightening, “well it’s definitely catchy,” she agrees, dropping her hands to her sides, humming a little as she spins a finger into the curl of her hair. “yeah, kjh really shells out for the videos. i guess its the benefit of riding atlas’ coat tails.” she’s definitely not complaining about it, grin flitting on her lips, rounding out her cheeks. “if i didn’t look good i wouldn’t be doing my job right,” she snarks back,  her tone wry as it trips off of her tongue. “it seems to be performing okay so far, so there’s that. it’s exhausting though, keeping up with promotions on top of the show. i’m glad it’s kinda winding down now.” she admits, sighs softly. “thus the need for coffee,” she teases, steps up to the cart. “what d’you want? on me.” 

americano.

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americano.

@idhyukjae // backstage at a music show (in the slight future) 

juniper should be thanking her lucky stars for the second chance that kjh has given her. deliverance on a silver platter, the promise of redemption. instead, she continues to be petulant, complaining  ow in her heart about the song they’ve been given. the one upside? at least she has a lot of lines and none of them are the repetitive noise fest of the so called chorus. 

it’s not that she’s one of those people who thinks pop music is beneath them. she loves pop music. she became an idol after all, if you don’t at least have a tolerance you’re probably a fucking idiot to be pursuing things. she loved the earlier songs they got to do; playing with fire, whistle, they were some of her favorites. she’d liked hobgoblin, and she’d obviously liked latata, having, you know, made it and all. but DDDD was repetitive in a grating way, not the cheery ear-worm way, and it felt disjointed to her, discordant and grating. not that she’d let that show on stage, for the most part, but she was somewhat less than thrilled with the whole thing. 

she would have liked to just give a song to the company, to have it be chosen, but to be perfectly frank, now that they were dangling the promise of a solo debut in front of her, she was hoarding the best for herself. not to mention trying to come up with content for unpretty rapstar on the regular, which was exhausting in itself. she should have just accepted the company offer of someone to write for her, or with her, but she’d been proud and stubborn (perhaps surprising no one).

at the sight of a familiar face she grins, sidesteps her manager and slips into the titanium waiting room after him, with a quick bow to the other’s. she’s been friends with the boys of titanium on and off for awhile now, closest with milo but a blooming friendship with aroon in the tangle of their survival show experiences exists, too. “hey, whats up?” she questions, hands sliding into her back pockets, elbows akimbo. “i was gonna go to that coffee cart down the hall, wanna come? we can pick some up for your boys too,” she adds, before milo can lurch over to insert himself into the conversation, half exhausted. they step back into the hall with a sigh and she grins over at him. “happy or sad, to be wrapping promotions? i liked this song.” 

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round and round.

@idsohee // comeback preparation. 

her body is in disarray, skin clammy and cold despite the sweep of sweat across her brow. she’s exhausted from the pressure of all of it. recording the song with gun, working with him like everything is totally fine, like it isn’t awkward now, to try and work together after everything. like they aren’t constantly on the edge of just a little bit more. the show is hard, too, trying to keep up with the others, trying to deal with the comparisons that they heap upon her. will she live up to the legacy of her father? is it all just company media play? will she outperform ellie from her past season? what does it mean if she does? is ellie a better rapper or juniper? why does juniper bother rapping at all? a hundred pointed barbs disguised to look like questions, they hook into her skin like spines from a cactus, aching and tearing even worse as she pulls them free, attempts to discard them. 

kjh was supposed to be a spectacular second chance, but maybe she hadn’t deserved it, just as suggested. and maybe it had come at the expense of friendships, of her reputation- though she’d been doing a good enough job of that on her own. she’d slacked off on the instagram bullshit these days, because with real promotion underway she didn’t need to dig for attention quite as much. didn’t have as much time for it, anyway.  she’s tired of criticism and value judgements and trying to deal with the expectations of people who don’t actually care about her. people who don’t know her. 

her father always told her not to do this. that she was too tenderhearted for it. she sighs, pushes her hand back through her hair to tangle it up into a bun, flopping down to a seat on the cold wooden floor. “i can’t practice anymore,” she complains, rolls onto her side to press her cheek against the smooth wood. the whir of the fan is a pleasant white noise as sohee’s sneakers squeak across the floor and the music turns off. she hears the other shift to sit and drags herself upright, mimes reaching towards her, “water?” she questions, grins and accepts the bottle given. “how do you have so much energy?” it’s no secret juniper struggles with stamina, even now. she’s doing her best, but not everyone is a born dancer like sohee. “what do you think of the song? like, full truth and honesty and all that.”

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ruwonid‌:

“kinda weird though, right? hating a song and then being excited because you think it might do well.” ruwon can half-relate. not the knowing part, but he’d held out hope for a while. that one of their garbage, auto-tuned messes of songs would hit big. resonate with the public. pull them a bigger fandom. it just hadn’t worked out that way, not until the show. not until their sound changed. different, but similar. almost on the same plane, that’s how it feels with juniper. 

“that bad,” she promises, “maybe even worse.” she sweeps her hand through her hair, grimacing at the feeling of hairspray sticky between her fingers, she swears lightly under her breath, having managed to forget this was a filming set adn she was dressed up to the nines for the whole thing. ruwon was easy to work with, had her laughing as he continued. “we started off alright. and when they let me make the songs we stay solid,” she half-jokes (but hadn’t they gotten their first win with her first title?) before adding, “but this one is just...well it’s...clearly concert bait. and i get it, you want a hype song for a concert but...it’s just so...disjointed.” she sighs, “i hate this new trend where they rip out the depth in the chorus you know? there’s no build, no grandeur, no crescendo.” she flaps her hands in an approximation of what this feels like to her, sort of a mountain shape or a trumpet fluting outwards. “it just....flatlines.” she draws a line with her hand, sighs. “i like what you guys are doing lately. it’s cinematic, it’s very....atypical for msg. i didn’t know they were capable of it.”

“god help me, nothing is worth that much debt,” she agrees, head shaking, curls bouncing as she moves. “and if i ever want a hope of a solo i have to grit my teeth, grin, and bear it. and be grateful for it. so i will. but in the meantime, i’m going to pretend i haven’t spent forty hours back to back practicing gun sounds.... hit you with that ddududdududdu~” she jabs out in the harshness they want from her, the quick bitten words. “at least i mostly get to skip that line. i’ve got a lot of bridge. and pre-chorus. the verses are mostly rapping, so i get one of those too. actually honestly i’ve got a pretty big chunk of the song, so at least i get to feel self-satisfied about that.” 

“this song though, it’s fun. it’s catchy.” her head bobs in a nod as she shifts, stretches her legs out beneath the little table. “it was fun to be in love with you for a few hours,” she teases, brow perking slightly. “i’ve been in love with much worse options.”  there’s a thoughtful hum as the other continues speaking and she crosses her arms thoughtfully, scratching at her upper arm through the blazer they’ve put her in. “yeah, definitely. i mean i usually have high hopes, i won’t lie, and then get crushed, that’s been the cycle for years. this was fun though because it’s not a genre i really get to do, this kind of boppy, jazzy stuff? it’s all girl crush all the time over at kjh. which is fine, it’s selling well, and i suit it well enough, but i like the vibe of this. it’s got groove.”  she smiles at her own expense for the silly description. 

something.

[archiveidjuniper-blog]

idjaeyul‌:

when she arrives they’re nothing more than figures taking space in the dark, loitering around in an empty space between two streets, two buildings. just silhouettes accentuated by the streetlights and stretching across the pavement, the image of his curved stature intercutting to the trembling dissonance in her shadowed eyes. the contours of her face are permanent to his memory, refusing to fade. he knows because he’s tried, yet all he can recall when he looks upon her is that he’s kissed them; the line of her cheekbones, the bow of her lips, the curve of her jaw just before the swell of her breasts. all of it. 

“honestly, i didn’t think you’d show.” he murmurs, words heavy, loud and somewhat mordant; testing the taut balance lingering between that both bounds and separates them. it feels criminal even saying anything. “but i’m glad you did.” 

may, with jua. ( @idjuniper )

this industry is going to destroy you. 

that’s what her father had told her, when she’d told him she wanted to follow his footsteps. 

you’re too soft for this, he’d said, you’ve got your heart on your sleeve and you’re going to make it a target. 

juniper should probably have listened to him. hadn’t she seen the public turn their backs on him on the basis of a single, pointless rumor that snowballed out of proportion and left him witch hunted? hadn’t it taken him years to build back up again? years of fighting lies? maybe she should have gotten out of things when her.oine went under, escaped when kjh came calling. it could have been a sign, one that she’d ignored. an escape pod firing off into the inky black of space and leaving her adrift a floating ship. 

but juniper was a girl who easily fell for promises of change. we’ll let you produce, they’d told her, we’ll let you write. we’ll give you a solo someday, if you behave. we can get you opportunities, we can get you onto shows. and she had been tempted by this, greedy and hopeful thing that she was. 

stupid. 

she escapes into familiarity. it’s been a late night already, long hours at the studio, bruises pressed under her eyes in an interplay of blue and purple and the goldwash tan on her skin. she’s tired to the bones, preparing for her comeback, with a song that sets her teeth on edge. all part of the game. with uprs ramping towards the finale she’s under pressure, trying to put out a track, trying to ride the wave of attention thrown her way. she wants to be raw and honest and she wants to express, in her music, the truth of her. and to have that thrown back in her face with a “what does a spoiled celebrity even know” hurts. it shouldn’t hurt, but it does. she should know better, but she doesn’t. she’s always been too vulnerable maybe, bloodstained lips and an eager sacrificed offered up to vultures. 

maybe that’s why she goes to him, when he calls. because she can’t help but offer this part of her up too. it’s an easy distraction, something familiar and alluring in turn. the black of tattoos that slash against his skin, pale in comparison to hers. the sharp cut of his gaze, as if a physical presence on her skin, raising goosebumps as soon as she approaches. she swallows, hard, when he speaks. “i almost didn’t,” she tells him, gives him the truth on a platter, a fool until the end. “i probably shouldn’t have.” she glances around the alley, as if that can escape the weight of his eyes on her. not that, truthfully, she wants to escape him at all. on the contrary, she takes a step closer, tilts her head, dark hair spilling over her shoulder. “we gonna just stand out here waiting for sasaengs to ruin my career or what?” 

red.

[archiveidjuniper-blog]

idaroon‌:

still, aroon keeps his phone charged so his manager can find him. still, he makes a promise to make back in time to rehearse, vows to not cause any trouble. neither him nor juniper are famous enough to be followed here, he reminds himself, no one needs to worry with them. “i can’t imagine all these adults thinking they know a toddler, that’s so weird.” he comments, pushes his hat up to look at the sky. “it really is, i wish we had more time to explore.” time seems to fly when they are not locked away in practice rooms. “okay so,” aroon stops, picks his phone from his pocket and opens google to search for some place they can go. “there’s this market called mercado central” aroon laughs at his own pronunciation “just a couple of blocks from here, we can buy something there and walk to a park. if you want a picnic then we’ll have a picnic.” he offers her a hand. “let’s go!”

“everything about fame is weird.” she admits, and it’s easy enough to agree to a statement like that. “look at it on paper, like, especially the shows about kids. what is even the point of that besides pure image making for the family? and why would you subject your kid to that, like? a kid can’t sign a consent form. a kid’s not acting, or modeling even. it’s supposed to be real life. whats the good in that? it just feels invasive, creepy. like reality tv shows in america, on that tlc channel. its just...too much.” she shakes her head, nose crinkling upwards, and a scoff appearing as she flaps her hands, as if to jettison the whole concept away. “fuck it, anyway, santiago is beautiful, i spent a thousand hours in a plane to get here, and we need to like, go have some fun.” she continues, before they go over the options, before she suggests picnics and warm sunny air. 

she checks her phone as he fiddles with his, the suspiciously quiet group chat staring her in the face. things feel awkward sometimes, especially with ellie, who seems intent to compare them in this way and that, and sohee has enough going on to be busy without her. sometimes she misses when they were her.oine, when they all languished in relative obscurity together, when they had a common enemy.  she wouldn’t go back to that though - she wouldn’t trade her new, budding career for her friends. she had other friends, now. it was a sad fact of the world, that human connections must change over time. she’d get them back someday, when things had all settled out. that was the hope. 

“yes, that sounds perfect,” she sighs happily, fits her hand to his and swings joined hands between them as they walk. it feels nice, this friendship and freedom, the warm air, the chatter of an unfamiliar language around her. “i love markets. do you think it’s an open air one? i hope so, the weather here is amazing. and being able to breathe without pollution? revolutionary.” she takes a deep breath through her nose to illustrate, sighs out a happy sound after. they wander the market as they arrive, enamored with unfamiliar sights and sounds, colors and merchandise on full display, and she feels happier today than she has in months. “it’s nice. even just the plane ride was nice. being able to...to kind of disconnect from everything, you know?” she puffs her cheeks out. “do you think you’ll win? your show?”

wanderlust.