W
Woe_Foe
Guest
~Name: Jamie Miles
~Hair: Long, dark brown hair
~Eyes: Deep green eyes
~Height: 5'10"
~Body type: Curvy, fit and voluptuous
~Age: 18
Most people found it odd that I haven't dropped out of college yet, given the amount of time I devoted to playing music. Hell, most of my fellow students found it weird that someone who dresses so unconventionally, like me, could attend an Ivy-League university. Columbia University didn't seem to be a place of too many people like me, wearing ripped jeans half the time, listening to loud music on my breaks and just downright seeming like a rebel at heart. Truth be told, I think that this may be completely superficial; I wasn't really a rebel. In fact, if anything, I was too scared to do anything that would ever get me in trouble. I always handed my assignments in time and I avoided absolutely anything that would get me in trouble with law enforcement. Then why am I dressing this way? Well, for one, my parents loved heavy music, so I suppose that my taste in it is simply natural. Secondly, I suppose that my fiance is somewhat to blame; he is simply in love with the rock'n'roll culture that I can't help but try to fit in with this romanticized view he has of it. That being said, when I told him about a year ago that I was planning on making a heavy rock band, he was ecstatic and gave me his full support. Imagine that; we were two young lovebirds, Mike (my fiance) studying accounting at NYU and me, Jamie Miles, studying economics at Columbia university. Not exactly the first thing in mind when thinking of the life of a rocker, huh?
I played bass a lot, though I was adept with guitars as well - though I preferred playing with acoustic guitars over their electric counterparts, oddly enough. I was okay at playing drums and I've been told that I could sing (though that was mostly Mike who barely heard me sing once. Like I said, he was ridiculously supportive of this). My songwriting skills were probably my better trait, as I've been writing dark poetry ever since high school, inspired by the likes of Black Sabbath. Needless to say that I wasn't very popular during my late teenaged years - in fact, my only friend was pretty much Mike, which didn't exactly help me much during my Senior year (he was one grade ahead of me). We got engaged, much to the chagrin of my friends, the moment that we graduated. I think that must have been the one time that I went against my parents' wishes. Oh well. They did eventually come around, especially seeing as Mike respected both my and my parents' wishes of waiting until we actually got married before doing anything overly intimate. I grew in a Catholic family, of all places.
My parents were overly protective of me a lot, despite having been complete hippies during the 60s and early 70s. I was coveted a lot, I guess, by the boys in the neighborhood. Despite my somewhat intimidating appearance (I don't know how else to describe a lady like myself who wears almost exclusive band t-shirts and nearly always dresses in black), guys appreciated my tall, hourglass figure, C cup breasts, plump round backside and long legs. My mother and father were especially suspicious of our neighbor, who seemed to show up everyday with a different woman - all because he struck a conversation with me while I waited for the bus.
Anyway, that's all besides the point.
The band searching has been going pretty well, in fact, as long as everyone didn't abandon me during our first gig, I'd have a line-up perfectly set. I was the only girl in the band though, so I guess my parents weren't going to be happy to see me surrounded by guys for days on end; in fact, the reason they probably allowed me to dress the way that I do, would be to repel the male gender. I was just glad that they would be too busy to see a friend of mine, Jake, drive his beat up white van near my place. Thankfully, both mom and dad were going to go out on some expensive dinner, so they wouldn't be around for a while.
It was around 9 PM, around when I finished with my assignments for next week, that I realized that unless I hurried up, that I'd be a little late for my little rendez-vous with my friends; or rather, band mates. Putting on a green top, a pair of black jeans and a pair of three-inch heels, I made my way outside and saw Jake's sketchy van. Though, once I approached it, I saw that the doors were wide open and not a single person was inside. He was pretty careless that way; I assumed that he went off to buy some smokes or something. Nevertheless, I'd wait here until he came back.
((OOC: Hi! I need one dominant male writer for this thread. The story can go in many different directions, if you interested, depending on your tastes. If you'd like to write with me here, please send me a PM...and a sample post too, if you'd be so kind.
))
