♠like walking into a dream♠

[chevy♠metal]

♠open to any n all♠

If it didn't piss him off so much he might have found it funny when interviewers and fans assumed that when he said his guitar speaks to him he was using a metaphor. He blamed it all on lyricists and their kind since they were always fucking around with words and making people believe that one thing could actually mean another. When he said his guitar speaks to him he damn well meant it formed words and attempted a conversation. This was probably why he couldn't stay with one band too long because all the other members just made him want to kill somebody. With their prissy ways and their concern about the money they were making and he just wanted to play music. It was sickening and that was why he always ended up ditching the idiots to make his own tunes. That was also why he wasn't nearly as famous as he should have been because he was more than skilled enough to be world famous if he could just develop some people skills.

But his guitar wasn't the only thing that spoke to him other machines did too or tried to anyway. The only machine he really got along with was his guitar and when he really had to an amp but he found that amps were generally pretty cool if a bit loud. That was why he had to get away from the people in the city and find someplace quiet because there were always machines everywhere and everyone had a damn cellphone or something on them and it was a pain in the ass listening to them all. Normal people only had to put up with the things when they rang but imagine any time there was a phone in the area it was ringing constantly and only you could hear it? You would probably be pretty pissed off too.

So that was why he was sitting alone in a park with just his guitar and a mini-amp that actually knew how to shut the hell up once in awhile. He had headphones in too so stupid people walking by wouldn't think he was playing for them and try to give him money because he hated it when they did that. Sure he didn't have much money but he wasn't going to sell his music on the street like some sort of guitar whore. This was music he was playing for himself and just because he wanted to hear it. If anyone else wanted to hear music they could go buy it from a store or steal it from the internet or just make it themselves instead of being leeches. Besides there were still plenty of birds in the park if they wanted to listen to music there so they shouldn't bug him. He respected the birds for making their own music and how free they were but he didn't want to listen to something that was theirs right now he wanted to hear something that was his.

So he played.

[sunny]

Oh, how she hated Amelia Harriet.

Amelia Harriet was that annoying sort of neighbor who was the exact opposite of you, and the absolute last person on Earth you'd want to live next to. She didn't appear to possess any amount of intelligence or common sense. Every word that she formed made you wish she'd get hit by a train a little more, and it was all so much worse, because she had a grating, high-pitched voice. And she snorted when she laughed.

The worst thing about Amelia Harriet, besides the fact that she was a giggly, brainless dingbat, was that she wanted to be Sunny's best friend. She thought about telling Amelia to stop her screeching and leave her the hell alone, but the woman threw money at her so often that she had to pretend to like her.

Money makes the world go 'round, folks...

Today, she was dog-sitting Phoebus, a yappy, annoying Chihuaua who was wearing an atrocious sparkely pink sweater, and it was time for his afternoon walk.

You'd think that she'd live in some cute little house by now, 'stead of that slummy little piece of junk she's got now, she's got so much money. But she spends it all on this damned dog of hers, it's terrible how she spoils him, and if she keeps feeding him that expensive shit he'll blow up like a balloon. Well, I guess it's none of my concern, and she's willing to give me $25 to put up with the little demon every time she's not around, anyway. You know, I could make good money like this. To hell with my million jobs, I'm going to walk dogs for a living.

She walked past Chevy, quirking a brow, but not sparing him much attention otherwise. She thought it was weird to see some guy rocking out in the middle of the park like that, but there was no law against rocking out in the park, as far as she knew. Some cop'd probably nab him for drawing too much attention or something, though.

Just then, Phoebus decided Chevy had some mighty tasty-looking shoes, and jerked in his direction, yapping away, dragging the perpetually-annoyed blonde behind him.

"No, no, stupid dog!" She growled at it, holding the leash tight and engaging in a strange game of tug-of-war with the excitable dog. "Jesus Christ, don't you come with a mute button?"

[chevy♠metal]

...such an ugly dog too I don't see why she bothers to walk the thing I wouldn't walk it for all the money in the world she'll probably get some disease from it and have to spend all the money she made to pay for medication or surgery but no she just keeps walking the thing she should really tell her neighbour who's boss I'd kick her butt if I had feet maybe I could shock her but I'd have to get into her hands somehow and they'd probably throw me in the garbage after or something I really don't want to end up in the garbage...

Chevy stopped playing his guitar. He knew those damn annoying non stop voices anywhere. That was a cell phone and thanks to his stupid mental illness or whatever it was, he could hear the things in his mind no matter how loud everything else was. It didn't matter how hard or loud he played his guitar, the voice still crept in. So he finally gave in.

Would you shut the hell up?

This did exactly what Chevy wanted it to and shut the phone up but only for a second. The next thing he knew it was blabbing again, maybe even worse than last time.

Who said that no body ever talks to me this is weird maybe I'm going crazy can phones go crazy oh well no body but me would notice anyway or maybe

Seriously. Shut. The fuck. Up. I know it's hard for you to keep your mouth or whatever it is you talk out of closed but I REALLY don't appreciate the amount of noise you're generating.

...well fine then. There's no need to be rude about it.

Problem solved, Chevy went on with his playing not even noticing the dog barking at him like an idiot. He didn't clue into the fact that when he'd been 'talking' to the lady's phone, it would have looked to her like he was glaring right at her the whole time. He might still have avoided any sort of confrontation except that the phone wasn't too good at keeping its word.

Oh yuck the thing is drooling everywhere and it still won't shut up how uncouth

"FUCK!" Chevy yelled standing up from his seat quickly. He didn't notice he said it out loud at first, but then his eyes made contact with Sunny and then made their way to the dog. He felt a headache coming on, he was starting to notice stupid machines before people and animals. He really WAS going crazy.

Not the sort of guy to apologize, Chevy just sat down again with no explanation though he did stick his hand out for the dog to sniff so it could get it over with and stop barking. Chevy liked dogs, and they usually liked him. He figured the less you could communicate with someone the easier it was to get along with them. There were no arguments or misunderstandings with dogs.