Help Wanted

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Love.

What is it? If you search it up it says it's an intense feeling of deep affection. People always say "I'm in love with (celebrity)!" But are they really in love? Love is intense and deep. Love is strong. I've never been in love before. Not until I saw her.

"AND STAY OUT!" Those were the last words my boss said to me. I used to work at Walmart, a cashier to be specific. Which being a cashier is a bad idea for me. I gave the customers too much change but they've never noticed, or they have but they decided not to tell me. And then one of the cashiers saw me give too much change to one customer and snitched. "So that's why we're losing money so fast.", he grunted. He didn't give me any warning and immediately fired me. Now I'm unemployed and sad.

To cope with it, I usually play some tunes with my electric guitar. My mom gave me it when I was 18 so it's pretty old. The baby blue color shined on the guitar. She taught me how to play many songs which half of it was oldie songs. I would always play Your Mother Should Know by The Beatles, one of my mother's favorite song. Before I could even walk, she told me she would always sing that song to me every night. She would put me in my small yellow crib and touch my hair softly and sing.

But one day, she just disappeared. My father went crazy and called the police. "Hello?! Yes, my wife disappeared a-and she's not picking up my phone calls nor responding to my texts! Please help, I don't know where she is!" Two days later, they found her dead body in a dumpster. Her throat was slit and in her hand was a knife. Inside her bag was a suicide note that read:

Let's all get up and dance to a song
That was a hit before your mother was born
Though she was born a long long time ago
Your mother should know 
Your mother should know

Years later and we still don't know what she had done it.


I wiped my tears. I shouldn't cry over spilled milk. 


I had been unemployed for almost five weeks now. I grabbed my phone and went downtown to get some fresh air. Where would I find a job, I thought. And especially a job I like. There was a bunch of Help Wanted signs. "HELP WANTED: A NEW COOK!" "HELP WANTED: WAITRESS!" One suddenly caught my eye. It was the perfect job for me. "HELP WANTED: A NEW GUITARIST FOR CLAIRE COTTRILL!" I looked closer and read the description. "Since her old guitarist, Haley retired, the singer Clairo, wants a new one!" Clairo? Isn't that the chick who made Pretty Girl? I wonder how she's doing. I continued reading the flyer: "If interested, bring you and your guitar to 323 W 46th St, New York, NY! Auditions are from October 2nd-15th, 2:00 PM- 5:00 PM! (Please have a song ready to play!) Thank you!"

This was it. This was my perfect job. I grabbed the flyer and looked at my phone and realized it was the 5th! I can go now, I thought. It was only 3, so I would have enough time. I go back to my house and grabbed my guitar. I already knew what song I would play. I went back out and into my car.


(chapter 2 coming today luvs)

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