wanderlust.
@idaroon // wandering the streets of chile
juniper is delighted in her anonymity. it’s not that she’s that famous back home, but there have always been people around her. people who knew her or her father. people who recognized her from the show as a baby and pinched at her cheeks, tousled her short-cut hair. people who felt the need to comment on her tomboyish style, or how big she had gotten. over the years it had abated, as she fled to the states in the wake of her father’s scandals, and with his absolution returned. by that point she’d been different. older, and changed.
her life has been a series of changes in that way. from a celebrity’s child to a “celebrity” child to a nobody in america to a normal enough high school student -with a catch, a caveat. a trainee, and an idol, a member of her.oine and then a member of jawbreaker, and who knew what would come next? she’s trying now, to build herself up into something else. another new mask for juniper to wear. juniper the soloist this time, juniper the artist. juniper who can produce adn juniper who can rap and juniper who can write and juniper who can sing. and perhaps not so much juniper who can dance. it’s not that she’s the worst dancer ever, obviously, but her performance abilities and practice are what get her by and since her label has given the promise of a more stationary debut as a soloist (however far down the line that may be) she can’t help but be a little bit relieved.
here, though, the sun is warm and sliding down, setting slow and languid across the horizon. here she isn’t anyone. she isn’t oh jua and she isn’t juniper oh. she isn’t her.oine’s juniper and she isn’t jawbreaker’s juniper. she isn’t the girl on unpretty rapstar and she isn’t her father’s junebug. she’s just herself, in the barest form, in the most basic and plain. with the finery and fuss stripped away as she winds her way down the long streets, she’s just a tourist, a face blurring into the crowd, with her arm linked through aroon’s companionably and a smile on her lips, that same smile she was once not allowed to flash so recklessly lest it undermine her image. “i like chile,” she determines, having seen a whole half a kilometer of it at this point, winding their way from the confines of the hotel in laconic steps. “what about you?” she drops her arm to link her hands behind her back, stretches them up with a sigh. “at the very least i like the weather. and walking. just...walking. without a fuss. ” there’s a satisfied nod to punctuate before, “where should we go?”