How A7X got their names: Ch 2: Zacky
If The Lazy Song had come out when I was that age, then that would describe how I felt right now. I sat up in my bed and looked at my guitar. Maybe if I just messed around with the chords, I could get some inspiration for a new song. But then again, my dad would probably yell at me once I plugged the guitar into the amplifier.
You see, my parents got me the guitar for my birthday when I was younger, but they still hated it when I played it in the house. And where else was I going to play? Jimmy was the one who had the keys to the studio, AKA, his garage, and I couldn't go over there every time I wanted to rock out to my own music. "Then deal with it," I mumbled as I grabbed it by the neck, plugged in, and began to fill the house with the deep, heavy riffs of Walk by Pantera.
It made me smile, the way that the instrument sat in my hands and how the music made my head naturally bob up and down. I almost imagined myself in front of thousands of screaming fans, playing our own music, watching out for bras and such flying on stage . . . until my dad burst through the door. "I thought I told you to turn that off!"
He nearly scared the crap out of me, but I caught the guitar before it could come crashing down on the carpet. "Jesus Christ! I'm sorry! I didn't hear you-"
"Because of that junk you're playing on that thing!" He unplugged it and stormed out, and then peeked his head back in. "And dinner's ready. Come downstairs right now."
The soft clinking of forks and knives hitting the plates was the only thing I heard as we ate. I decided to be the first one to break the silence. "Do we have any other plans for tonight?"
"Not that I know of, honey," Mom smiled, "Why?"
"Well, me and the guys were gonna go over