#> schedule.

[archiveidjuniper-blog]

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.”

[archiveidjuniper-blog]

deflect.

@idsirae // the thrill of the hunt

juniper tugs at the hem of her vest, the ill fitting polyester police jacket she’s been instructed to dawn, adjusts the cap atop her head and flicks a strand of hair back into place over her shoulder.  she examines her reflection in the dim and warped plexiglas of the pseudo storefront. it’s a fascinating look into the world of korean children, the little city set up in the confines of this massive building. they’ve been thoroughly briefed on what they’re required to do- dig up clues to discover who the intruder is, or whatever, and she doesn’t mind it. variety games are kind of fun when they’re like this, a little bit of roleplaying, some sneaking. it’s more than the bare minimum style of variety anyway. there’s no “slap these headphones on and play charades” or “lets pass this paper so that your fans can fetishize homosexual relationships they would never actually approve of culturally” or other unnecessary absurdities. 

it helps, too, that it’s just a vlive show. no one is going to judge her much for this because no one is really going to watch it, aside from their stubbornly persisting fanbase, god bless ‘em. “so,” she announces as she turns from her makeshift mirror. she’s in shorts. her legs are cold, doc martins and thick woolen socks an amusing contrast to the rest of her outfit- halloween police officer chic. sirae looks cute though - always does. “tell me you’re not a traitor or whatever, my little heart just couldn’t take that.” she pouts in her direction, does her best to ignore the cameras that shift around them, while also remaining aware of the camera that’s supposed to be trailing her. she flicks her fingers through long strands and turns to survey the area.  “it’s not a bad game right,” she lilts as she tucks her hands into her back pockets, which juts her elbows out at stark angles. she’s not really thinking about her appearance in the moment, a flaw for which she’ll surely be reprimanded later. “i bet the sneaky snake is....” she trails her gaze around the room, settles against one of the other’s at random. “ellie.” it’s an arbitrary decision, but she’d be lying to say things haven’t been sort of weird between them since the advent of her casting on unpretty rapstar. ellie’d been on the show awhile ago, and done fairly well. but ellie has always been a bit sensitive to the rivalry narrative the media likes to kick up. juniper figures it’s a bit dumb when they’ve got particularly different musical inclinations, and anyway june herself has been writing ellie perfectly delightful rap parts for year- and some of them have even been titles now, so clearly there’s no bad blood. but things get awkward, regardless. it’s bound to happen in the length of a friendship in the midst of a competitive industry like this one. sirae and yujin are, at least, blessings in themselves, her rocks, her pillars. she links her arm through sirae’s and flops her head to her shoulder. “i wish the night in the game was like, an hour long instead of ten minutes so that we could take a nap.” 

[idsuran-blog]

stretch.

@idyujiin in which a commercial is filmed.

they’re at the point in their careers where they not only have to start establishing themselves on their own as artists, they actually have an opportunity to do so. in a few months at kjh they’ve done more promotionally than they’d ever done underneath singularity. she’s exhausted, bone tired,  but the fact she’s getting solid and consistent opportunities means she could give a shit about her physical health. hell, they’d even taken one of her songs for a bside. and then chuseok rolled up. 

she’d been excited to see her family, of course. but that didn’t mean she didn’t jump instantly at the offer of a special performance stage. and solo at that. after her performance during produce, she’d ended up, perhaps, cementing an image for herself as a center girl. a girl who could handle the spotlight. considering she was aiming for a true and proper solo career for the long haul, that meant everything to her. the chance to do that now had her all but buzzing, bouyany. she felt like a balloon barely anchored to earth. nothing could pop the high of knowing she’d be doing a remixed version of her actual lord and savior iu’s twenty three, on stage, complete with a dance break. sure, the lack of rapping was a little bit of a bother, but people knew she could rap. she wanted them to know she could sing. could belt. could bring it, and could do it live too. that was the real game changer. that was what got you recognized. she didn’t want to be an idol soloist. she wanted to be an artist, someday, and that was step one down a long, long, long road. 

she was ready for it. 

she was less ready, and less enthused, about hours upon hours of photoshoots, but she’d clearly made her position as “in favor of anything that got their name (her name) out there” known, so here she was, bringing her “a game” for the shoot while she fantasized about the way she’d like to plan the stage, the song she was hoping to pitch for the upcoming album, the best case scenarios of the career she’s been chasing after for so long. 

she’s in the middle of this dreamy reverie when a voice distracts her and she tilts her head, glances sidelong to find yujin there, offers a tentative grin. “oh, hey, are we on break? thank god,” she breathes, tilts her head and feels the snap crackle pop of her joints. “ugh. how long have we been here now?” she complains, shifts as she extricates herself from the set. at least adidas is comfortable.