Jaimie: RecruitmentMature

"Are you okay, Jaimie?" Carter asked from across the kitchen of our house.

"Why?" I said, not looking up.

"You look rather confused."

"I appear to have been invited to join a rock band," I murmured.

"What? Can I see?"

I handed him the letter and watched as he read it quickly. His face burst into a wide grin.

"Jaimie, this is wonderful news!" he squealed.

"Okay, okay, calm down. Just because you're gay doesn't mean you need to act it," I said, taking the letter back.

"Fuck off, Jaimie." He went back to washing the dishes. "Just because I don't sleep with men and women."

"Whatever," I mumbled. I stood up and turned to leave. "I'll be in my room."

"And what will you be doing in your room?" he asked suspiciously.

I stopped, turned around and held my hands up questioningly. "Replying. What else would I do in my room while you're in the house?"

I didn't wait for his reply, instead just walking up the stairs. Shutting my bedroom door behind me, I smiled at the girl from last night. She was just getting ready to leave.

"I had a nice time," she said quietly, showing me the smile that had made me bring her home.

"Me too," I said, smiling back.

"Bye," she said, waving as she left my room. I heard the front door shut downstairs.

"For fuck's sake, Jaimie!" Carter shouted to me.

"Whatever," I responded.

He was used to it and often made the remark that other people used our door more than we did.

I sat down at my desk, debating whether to reply in an email, or hand-writing it. Going for the easy way out, I turned my laptop on.

Dear Mr Olivers, was all I wrote before pausing, wondering how he'd heard of me. I mean, yeah, I'd done a couple of gigs throughout the years, seeing as I was a school drop out and didn't go to university. Then I continued the email. Thank you very much for your invitation and I would like to accept your offer of joining the band, yours faithfully, Jaimie Evans.

I may not have gone to university, but I did know how to write a formal letter. I looked at the small, tiny paragraph of writing on my computer screen, the cursor flashing at me incessantly, irritated that that was all I'd written. I shrugged and copied the email adress into the box, read over the email, and clicked 'send'.

The End

339 comments about this exercise Feed