THE SILENCE THAT FILLS THE Velazquez mansion taunts Juniper, especially at night. The house is far too big; 6 bedrooms and 7 bathrooms. Each room is just filled with so much sadness and emptiness, she hates being home. She’d rather go to parties or clubs, where it’s loud enough to fill the void in her chest and where thin white lines make her feel so light that she can fly.

It’s all a temporary solution, but she’s not willing to give it up just yet.

Her room is dark and the only thing that lights it up is the soft golden light of her bedside lamp. The silk of her pyjamas caresses her body so luxuriously, Juniper looks like she’s made out of the finest diamonds and rubies. That’s what people think of her at first before they realise who she is. It’s only then she becomes a tainted vision.

She shakes the small crystal cylinder case gently over the sparkling silver tray on the coffee table in the middle of her bedroom. White powder puffs out with effervescent residue rolling out in clouds. She lines them up with her ID in a long line before taking a rolled-up dollar bill to sniff the thread of white completely gone. When it’s clean off the tray, Juniper feels like she has come up for air after being underwater for so long. She falls back against the cushion of her settee, sighing heavily in bliss.

Juniper sits there for a while, head resting against the pink cushion as she stares up at the ceiling of her bedroom. The music is playing from the speakers and she can feel every note and every beat of the song. She feels good -- thanks to the cocaine, of course -- and she feels like she’s floating to the ceiling, right to the soft floral etches that run across the surface like veins.

These are the kind of moments she wishes she could forever be in. Except, without the drugs or the alcohol. She wants to feel this good at least once, without any consequences. Be it with her father, the hangover the next day or the crippling fall from the high.

Her arm reaches for the bottle of tequila off the table and puts her feet back down on the floor, feeling the cold touch of the marble against her skin. Juniper gets up and dances in her room that night. The moonlight filters through the windows and pierces through the curtains that are floating in the air gracefully from the gentle wind. She twirls on the tip of her toes, taking sip after sip of tequila. Her shadow dances along with her, stretching over the floors and distorts over the bed.

After a while, she feels a little light on her feet after drinking just enough of the tequila to get tipsy. ‘Somebody to Love’ by Queen starts playing just as she steps out of her room and into the dark hallway. Even though the song is muffled behind the closed door, it seems to continue in her head as she dances her way down the staircase and out of the house.

The air is cold and the music stops when she hears the crickets softly in the background. She stumbles towards the rose bush by the water fountain, tipping what’s left of the bottle over the flowers. When she throws it over her shoulder, she winces at the violent crack and the shatter of the glass that speckles over the cobblestone driveway. Juniper only glances over it before wandering out to the street.

It’s different on the outside. Even though it’s quiet, it doesn’t taunt Juniper and the darkness doesn’t scare her. As the physical distance between her and the Velazquez mansion grows, the tightness of her chest recedes. But it’s only a matter of time, if she wasn’t high or dizzy from the tequila, until the serenity dispels and the darkness returns.

Juniper finds herself at the cliffside that overlooks the LA lights and it's riveting skyline. The beauty of the city is mesmerising and tempts people, like a moth to a flame. She loves the city and perhaps it is one of the few things she still knows how to love. It can be brutal and barely skin-deep but the City of Angels is the only remembrance of her mother and how she too loved every part of this city. She sees the beauty in the ugliness and she loved it for all its flaws.

So, she stands there for a while, gazing back at the sparkling lights that look like constellations that belong in the sky.

She walks on the edge, arms spread out to keep her balance. Juniper sees the steep drop beside her and looks down past her bare toes. Her visions flash and they overlap. She can barely see straight but she can’t stop looking down and wonder how long it’ll take for her to reach the bottom.

But falling would be really bad.

It would be really, really bad.

Juniper leans over, arms wide open, trying to peek over the ledge. She doesn’t realise tears have started to form in her eyes and how they run down her cheeks profusely. Maybe it’s because she hates crying and she hates to hear herself sob and choke on her own tears that she has developed a skill to block herself out in a moment like this. She isn’t aware of it but she is, actually, crying as she stares at what looks like an endless pit of bushes and rocks.

If she jumps, would she take off and fly into the stars? She feels like she can from the amount of drugs in her system and the alcohol that fires her veins like gasoline. If she jumps, would she never land? If she jumps, what would it ever do to the world around her?

Juniper closes her eyes, feeling the soft gust of wind push through her.

“Don’t jump,” a voice says behind her.

Her eyes flash open and turn around. Juniper’s eyebrows crease immediately at the sight of Castiel standing at the side of the road with a flashy Bentley parked aside. When their eyes meet, she crashes into reality. Castiel is shocked to see it’s Juniper, staring back at him with her eyes raging with an endless storm. The wind feels more aggressive now and her lungs rapidly fill up with so much air, she thinks she’s about to explode from inside out. The high and the dizziness in her head starts to feel heavy and terrible now and all she wants to do, as she stands above the bright lights, is throw up the contents of her stomach.

“Take my hand,” she hears him say. He sticks his hand out towards her, beckoning her to take it, “Please, Juniper.”

“I- I don’t know w- what’s happening,” Her voice cracks; she wasn’t planning to jump. She can finally hear herself sobbing softly and feels the tears running down her cheeks. God, how she hates listening to herself crumble.

“That’s okay,” Castiel says and slowly makes his way towards her, “I’m gonna come and get you, okay? Just don’t move.”

The slow fall from the high always feels terrible for Juniper. It only gets worse each time and yet, it’s never enough for her to finally let go of the drugs and the drinks. It’s never nice to experience the moment the wonderful world before you unravel itself into something so hideous. As she feels herself being engulfed by the darkness once again, the only thing that emerges from the gloom is Castiel, carefully walking over the rocky edge and taking her hands in his gently.

He takes her towards the car and she can his mouth moving, talking to her, but she can’t hear him. All she can seem to hear is the static noise of a radio. Her mind is racing with several thoughts and the only thing she seems to be aware of is his warm hand against her stone-cold ones before he hastily drops it when he starts to lift his sweatshirt over his head.

“Put this on, okay? You must be cold,” He says, handing it over to her and opens the passenger door of his car, “I can take you back to your place.”

“Wait,” Juniper quickly holds his arm when he’s about to jog to the other side of his car. He looks at her, eyes desperate to wait for what she has to say. She hesitates for a split second as she decides to put so much trust on him and says, “I really don’t want to go back home right now. Please, Castiel. I really can’t. Just take me to yours, if that’s okay.”

Castiel nods his head slowly and smiles at her softly, “Yeah. No problem.”

Returning a half-smile, Juniper slips into the passenger seat as Castiel jogs to the driver’s seat. She pulls the sweatshirt over her head as the cool summer air hits her. The sleeves cover her hands completely and the size of the sweatshirt hangs onto her loosely, almost desperate to cling onto her frame. It smells like laundry detergent and the soft scent of soap. Something she always imagined what a home would smell like.

The car ride up into the hills is silent with the soft murmur of the radio in the background. Juniper watches the city lights disappear behind the trees as the view morphs into an upscale neighbourhood. He drives past the gates that lead to the Velazquez mansion at one point, making her turn away from the window and watches the road ahead of them. It’s only now she realises he lives in the same area.

It isn’t long until a house comes into view in front of them. The windows a dark but the exterior is lit up with golden scones and outdoor lights across the lawn. There are a few empty boxes sitting by the front gates and a few unopened ones that can be seen at the front door. Castiel stops in front of the gates and presses something on a key, opening it and drives right onto the cobblestone driveway.

When Castiel parks the car to a stop and turns the ignition off, Juniper clears her throat to get his attention. He turns his head towards her as she says, “I wasn’t going to jump.”

“Oh.”

“It was weird,” she adds, “I wasn’t going to jump, I really wasn’t but- but I don’t know what was happening-”

“Hey,” Castiel reaches to her covered-up hand and squeezes it, “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here. You’re here.”

A weak smile makes its way to her face. She sighs, “Thanks, Castiel.”

The window by the front door lights up and Juniper can hear Castiel let out a dejected sigh next to her. She glances over at him, seeing him shutting his eyes as if he’s mentally preparing himself for something. Juniper is no stranger to having awkward encounters with her rendezvous’ parents, mainly Ethan’s, but now she’s starting to wonder how bad this one will be.

They both get out of the car in unison and as if by cue, the front door opens to reveal a woman in a robe standing there with her arms crossed over her chest. Juniper feels herself shrinking under her gaze, even though it’s directed more towards Castiel, as they approach her. Next to the woman is a man, perhaps an older version of Castiel, standing not as disappointed as his wife. Just slightly tired and annoyed at the rude hours.

“Mom, Dad,” Castiel mutters, sighing inwardly, “This is Juniper.”

“Where were you, young man?” His mother first asks, stepping out of the door. Her thick eyebrows are knitted together and there’s an obvious frown on her face. Castiel can’t even help but feel like actually getting in trouble with the way she’s laying her act on thick as she adds, “It is 3AM and you didn’t even bother to let us know where you’ve been all night! You know how terrifying it is as a parent to not know where your only child is at this ungodly hour? We just moved here for god’s sakes! Castiel Romero DiAngelo, I am not impressed with this newfound behaviour of yours.”

“I told dad I was going to be out tonight,” He says, “And I always answer my phone.”

“I keep telling your mother,” His father tells him and then looks at Juniper, smiling warmly, “Sorry, sweetheart. If it wasn’t so late, Castiel’s mother would harrass you with food by now.”

Castiel gives his mother a sideways look, “She’s going to stay for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” His mother takes in a deep breath and shuts her eyes as she does so. When her eyes flutter open, she’s smiling and then holds Juniper’s shoulders, “I’m sorry, sweetie. This is a new city and you know how it goes. Anyway,” her eyes scan Juniper from head to toe and realises she doesn’t have any shoes on and that she’s wearing one of Castiel’s sweatshirt. A worried look shadows over her face as something clicks in her head, given the ungodly hours and the fact that Juniper isn’t wearing shoes with her eyes red and puffy. Her eyes softens, “Is everything alright?”

She looks to her son for answers. Castiel clears his throat and laughs awkwardly to lighten up the mood, “Everything’s okay, mom. Juniper just needs a friend.”

His parents look at him and it looks like they made a collective decision to not pry even further.

“Well, alright,” His mom says with a light smile. She holds Juniper’s arm, rubbing her thumb over the back of her wrist and adds, “Stay as long as you like, honey. One of the guest bedrooms should be ready but there are a couple of boxes laying around. Don’t mind them.”

“No, it’s okay,” Juniper returns the smile, “I’m only hanging around for a bit. I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“Don’t be ridicuous,” His dad chimes in, “Stay as long as you like and you,” he turns to face his son, raising his brows at him, “I trust you to behave.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Castiel asks obliviously as his dad waves his hand airily at him.

“Goodnight, you two,” His dad proceeds, placing his hand on the small of his wife’s back to guide her back inside.

When they disappear into the house, Juniper glances at Castiel, who’s smiling back at her. This isn’t like any of the weird, awkward encounters with other people’s parents. No, Castiel’s parents are just being parents. And they seem kind. The ones she is used to meet in inappropriate circumstances, they look at her in scrutiny and they glare at their child in utter disappointment with so much presumption beforehand.

The inside of the house is mostly furnished with a few framed paintings leaning on the wall, waiting to be hung. There are boxes lining up the perimeter of the foyer. It’s a lot smaller than Juniper’s house but it already feels a lot more homier. She hugs the sweatshirt closer to her skin. There’s a slight draft in the air and Castiel notices how she shrivels into his sweatshirt. He taps her shoulder and beckons her to follow him to the kitchen.

“I make a mean hot chocolate,” He says smugly, shooting a grin over his shoulder. He shrugs as they approach the kitchen. Flicking the light switch on, he adds, “Hot chocolate also makes everything better.”

“I hope you’re right,” Juniper quietly says and hops onto one of the stools by the island counter. Castiel walks to the overhead cupboards and takes out two light blue mugs before heading to the fridge to retrieve some milk. She scans their surroundings.

The kitchen is wide and spacious with polished hardwood floors and pristine white walls with light grey accents. Behind the island is a large, rectanguar dining table with 9 chairs that go with it. There are plenty unopened boxes by the windows.

She returns her line of vision on Castiel, who’s standing by the kitchen stove, heating up milk. Given the time, he looks tired and Juniper feels guilty that it’s 3AM and he’s making hot chocolate for some girl he just met. This is one of the moments she wouldn’t have with boys, or girls. Usually, they make small talk at the door before jumping on each other’s skin as the night passes and they say their goodbyes and never see each other again.

“Extra marshmallows are the secret.” He dumps a handful of pillowy marshmallows over their hot chocolate and hands Juniper a mug. He stands before her and takes a cautious sip from his mug.

“Thanks,” She tells him. Juniper looks down at the hot chocolate. Extra marshmallows. A smile is threatening to break free at the sight. The girls -- which some are forced to be called her friends by default -- are her school would gag at the thought of eating even one single piece of marshmallow.

She hates her friends but they love being on her Instagram feed.

Juniper brings the mug to her lips and tastes the velvety chocolate that fills her mouth. The softness of the marshmallows makes her want to moan at how good it tastes. She hasn’t had hot chocolate for the longest time. The last one was probably when she was 11-years-old in some chalet in the Swiss Alps one Christmas.

“My friends hate hot chocolate,” She chuckles, finally, taking another gulp of it.

Castiel laughs, “Then, they’re not your friends. Who hates on people who drink hot chocolate?”

“People who haven’t had yours, obviously.” Juniper grins at him. She notices the Pulp Fiction graphic on his t-shirt. Boys and movies like Pulp Fiction are never a good match in her book. A scoff escapes her lips and tilts her head as she looks at him, “I’m guessing that’s your favourite movie?”

Castiel peeks down at his shirt, “What can I say? I’m a Tarantino junkie.”

Juniper raises her brows, “I’m not a big movie person but word on the street is that he has a foot fetish.”

“Well, I don’t judge,” He holds his hands up and then frowns, “You don’t like movies?”

“Nope,” She exhales and drinks the last bit of her hot chocolate.

“Why? Not even those classic Disney movies?” Castiel seems flustered and genuinely confused as he rounds the counter and takes the seat next to her.

“Happy endings are kinda bullshit,” Juniper states and face Castiel, who’s eyes kind of widen a little at her confident declaration of hatred towards movies. His eyebrows perk upwards as she continues with rage, “They’re not really happy endings because realistically, people’s lives don’t end by the time the credit rolls. They just end on a good part of an endless narrative. And I can assure you that life isn’t gonna be 100% dandy from that point on just because you have the girl of your dreams. What if she cheats? What if she leaves you for somebody else after the credit rolls? There’s no happy ending because it doesn’t really exist. Happy endings are a sham created by Hollywood media to contaminate our minds. Happy endings are a conspiracy theory.”

Castiel whistles lowly, “Sheesh. Sounds very reflective.”

She rolls her eyes and looks away from his amused smirk.

His finger pokes her side gently, “Come on. Tell me their name. This one sounds good. I love a good modern-day teenage love drama.”

Juniper glares at him, “What are you talking about?”

“I see right through you, Juniper,” He tells her. The way he says it makes her feel anxious for some reason but she doesn’t speak on it and lets him continue, “You seem extremely pessimistic about something so beautiful.”

There’s a hesitant silence hanging over them coming from her, mainly. She sighs and peeks over at him. Castiel gives her the annoying puppy dog eyes she hates. It’s stupid. Absurdly stupid and childish. It looks pathetic and ugly. But not on him and she hates that she realises this. He tilts his head to one side, galactic eyes pouring into her soul which are pleading. It’s not even fucking serious but she can feel herself giving in as he looks at her in that stupid way she hates when other people do it.

She grumbles, “Fine. It was some stupid girl I had a thing with.”

She wasn’t just some stupid girl. Juniper felt like she used to be The Girl. But now, after ripping Juniper’s heart to endless shreds, she has become just some other girl that used to be in her life.

“She was the first girl which made me realise that there shouldn’t be any boundaries when it comes to love,” Juniper starts, looking away from Castiel and looking up at the ceiling instead, where the projector has been installed, “Like, I realised I didn’t just like boys. I like girls too and I knew this when I thought she wasn’t just pretty. She was absolutely so fucking gorgeous that I… I wanted to fucking kiss her. So, I did. And she kissed me back. And it felt good and it felt like I had air in my lungs for once, instead of crippling desolation that I’m so used to. I was so scared too and I don't know why or how this is possible but her eyes… they told me not to be scared. She didn’t have to say anything. She just looked at me with the most gentle eyes and I finally felt safe.”

Juniper can feel his gaze softening at her and how intently he’s listening to her. She has never had anyone listen to her so carefully and closely before that it even feels weird to just listen to her own voice formulating her thoughts instead of having someone yelling and interrupting her at any given moment. And it feels nice. It feels really fucking nice that she’s being heard. She likes that she is being listened to.

“But, of course,” Juniper claps her hands once, “She got scared and just left me. No goodbyes. No text. Nothing. She just walked away as if nothing happened. As if she didn’t help me figure out a part of myself. But whatever.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says, almost inaudible, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay,” She shrugs and slides off the stool, walking to the wide floor to ceiling window, peeking out to the backyard where she can see a pool glowing with blue.

Then, she feels his arms wrap around her into a hug. She’s taken aback for a moment as it hits her a second late as if it’s too much for her brain to fully process. Juniper doesn’t know what to do with her hands or how to react to how warm he feels against her body. He smells like the sweatershirt she is wearing, laundry detergent with a whiff of soap, making her imagine how a home would smell again. It’s strange for Juniper because she can’t remember the last time she hugged someone which doesn’t involve taking their clothes off.

This is much different.

Juniper slowly places her hands on his shoulder blades, feeling his heartbeat against her palms and the slow breaths he’s taking. Her cheek is nuzzled in his neck and she can feel his breath brushing the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” He says again, “I’m sorry that you went through that.”

“Man, you sound awfully apologetic for someone who didn’t do it,” Juniper laughs as they pull away eventually.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, and there’s that look in his eyes again. That look he gave her when he found her at the side of the cliff, inches away from falling.

“About the girl? I mean, I’m okay,” Her lips are pursing. “I don’t give a shit anymore. I think that’s good.”

Castiel nods his head, “That’s good,” he pauses. “But I mean about just now.”

“Oh.” Juniper’s eyes falls to the floor. She takes in a deep breath at how much she has to unpack with the complexities of her own emotions that she experienced in one single moment when she stood at the edge. Juniper doesn’t want to think about it and instead, she reaches forward in one swift movement. Her arms are around his torso and her ear is pressed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat playing in a rhythm like a song that’s going to play in her head like a broken record. In one breath, she says, “Thank you for making sure that I’m okay.”

“Don’t worry about it, June,” June. The way he says it. It’s a nickname she hates. Almost everybody calls her that. Her dad. Her stepmom. Ethan. The Girl. Her mom never called her that. She always liked Juniper best. Usually, when people say June, it’s in that condescending tone and often used in moments where they are frustrated and annoyed with her.

But it sounds different when it comes out of Castiel’s mouth. He says it, if possible, so heartily to the point it almost sounds like a hopeful prayer. When Castiel says June, it doesn’t remind her of moments where people tried to shut her up and stifle her but it reminds her the excitement at the beginning of summer, the moment the weather is kind and the sun sings in the morning with its golden light. People love June and they wait for June to come. It sounds nice.