School of Rock: The Second Generation

Disclaimer: I don't own School of Rock. I wish! Nor do I own any of the characters, or the actors, or anything like that. (Although I wouldn't mind owning Kevin and Joey...) The only thing I own are the new characters in this story.

Summary: The kids from School of Rock are all 35 years old... and they each have a kid! Our fave band people have given up on their music and their band, have lost contact, and never speak of it. But what happens when their kids start to get an itch for the rock 'n roll business, too? Plus, what happens when their children meet up?

Chapter One: Hmm... summer camp?

Zack Mooneyham, a successful criminal lawyer, strode down the stairs of his posh New Jersey home one Monday morning in early May. Entering the kitchen, he found the best sight in the world: his wife, Jennifer, and his 12-year-old son, Jordan. Jennifer was cooking something on the stove that smelled tantalizingly of pancakes, and his son was reading a magazine and drinking orange juice at the kitchen table.

"Morning!" said Zack. His family looked up happily.

"Hey Dad, c'mere a sec!" called Jordan, waving his father over. Zack made his way to his chair across the table from his son. Settling himself in it, he peered at his son's magazine. "What are you looking at?"

"It's this brochure for this awesome summer camp!" Jordan exclaimed excitedly. He pushed it across the table at his father. Zack picked it up.

"Camp Rock," he read off the front cover. "What is this, a camp for budding geologists?"

"Come on, Dad!" sighed Jordan. "It's a rock band camp! Please, please can I go?"

Rock band. The words hit Zack somewhere in the region of his naval. His thoughts flew to his years at Horace Green Prep in Long Island. He'd had such a good time with his fellow bandmates in their band, School of Rock. But he didn't need to reminisce just then. He had to be in court in forty-five minutes.

Jennifer set a large stack of pancakes on the table. "There you go, boys," she said, "get 'em while they're hot."

Stabbing two with his fork, Jordan began complaining. "Please Dad! Honestly, you know how much I love the guitar! What have you got against it, anyway? You barely even wanted to let me take lessons!"

What did he have against the guitar? wondered Zack. It had practically ruined his life, that was what.

"Didn't you have a passion when you were my age, Dad?" asked Jordan. "Something you just had to do, no matter what?"

Ouch. Low blow there, thought Zack. But of course, his son didn't know that. He didn't even know about Zack's old band.

"You know, I do think it would be a good idea," stated Jennifer. "After all, nobody at his school appreciates music. It might be good for him to be around others with his similar interests."

That did it. He just couldn't disagree with his wife. Plus, this was Jordan's choice. Maybe the guitar wouldn't wreck his son's life, too. He should be able to find out for himself. "Fine, you can go," sighed Zack.

"Yeah!" cheered Jordan. "Camp Rock!"

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Freddy Jones leafed through the mail that had tumbled onto his New York apartment's doormat. Bill. Bill. Bill. Some letter inviting his wife, Keisha, to some benefit or another. Bill. Newspaper. Magazine from some rock band camp, addressed to his daughter Marissa. Keisha's Maclean's magazine... wait. Magazine from a rock band camp? For Marissa? What in hell?

"Marissa!" thundered Freddy. His 12-year-old daughter, her blond hair twirled up into two buns on the top of her head, sauntered into the living room.

"What's up, Dad?" she asked.

"Explain this," he demanded, thrusting the magazine into her hands.

"Oh..." her voice trailed off. "I sent away for it in music class last month."

"And you actually believe you're going to this... this..." he paused, reading the name on the front, "this Camp Rock?"

"Yeah," Marissa said simply.

"Oh, really?" said Freddy, raising his eyebrows.

"Mom's already paid for it, don't worry. Besides, it'll get my 'noisy drums' out of the house for a month. You've only threatened to chuck them out twelve times this week anyway."

"You're not going," Freddy decided, "end of discussion."

"Yeah, I am. Gods, Dad, you're such an uptight stiff. Weren't you ever at least a bit loose?" she asked.

Grimacing, Freddy remembered all too well how "loose" he used to be. It had cost himself, not to mention other people, a heck of a lot. No way did he want to remember that.

"Your mother already paid, you say?" he asked.

"She did, so you don't have to worry about spending any of your precious business-man paycheque on me," Marissa told him sassily. "I'm going, Mom already said."

"Fine, you're going," said Freddy shortly. "Just don't expect me to turn up on Parent's Day."

"We could not be more different," muttered Marissa, wandering away, back to her room. It was as if the conversation hadn't even fazed her.

Trust me, dear, Freddy thought to himself, when I was your age, we couldn't have been more alike.

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All around the eastern part of the United States, five more families were having very similar conversations. None of the parents wished their children to attend Camp Rock, but the children were dead set on it. Eventually, each parent consented.

This is how the twelve-year old children of Zack, Freddy, Katie, Lawrence, Tomika, Marta, and Alicia came to arrive at Camp Rock on Long Island on July 2nd.

A/N: Read and review! More reviews, more chapters! Trust me, this is going somewhere!