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#The last two are definitely my favourites of the bunch I love subtle exchanges of position
sysig · 3 years
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Untouchable
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oldies-enthusiast · 4 years
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She’s A Sensation: Ch. 1 | Marty McFly x reader
A/N: Hey guys! So basically, I’m in the middle of one of my many BTTF marathons & since I’m clearly In The Mood™️, I decided to bless your feed with some Marty McFly content.
The name of the band in this story is inspired by my favourite band, Psihomodo Pop from Zagreb, Croatia & their song Sexy Magazin.
Have a great day! —Ally xx
Chapter 2
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For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved music with inexplicable passion. Some of your earliest memories involve blasting out The Sweet’s Ballroom Blitz on your old radio & jamming out to it with your dad. Your parents noticed you had talent when you would sing or hum absent-mindedly while dressing up your Barbie dolls or playing outside.
You got your first guitar at the age of 13, but your parents couldn’t afford guitar lessons as well. You spent that whole summer saving up for the lessons & finding all sorts of ways to make money, which sounds easier than it was for a 13-year-old, though. Most of the time you would walk dogs for other people, mow their lawns or babysit little kids when needed. Old ladies were especially fond of you & made sure to pay you a dollar or two extra when you carried groceries for them. It wasn’t the hardest work, but it definitely was a fair responsibility given how young you were.
On the other hand, you’d been dreaming of playing the guitar for years beforehand and that’s why you were so determined.
When the day of your first lesson arrived, you were ecstatic. Playing the guitar turned out to be a lot more difficult than you’d thought it was going to be, but your enthusiasm never subsided. It required talent, patience & hard work, and you had it all. You got better and better with each day.
Sophomore year of high school you made friends with some cool guys who liked punk and glam metal and you started playing together soon after. At first, it was only for fun. You would goof around on your instruments pretending you were Iggy Pop or Joan Jett; at parties people would sometimes ask you to play something & that was when you first realized that as a group, you sounded really good. By the end of the school year, you were officially a band.
Your main influences were the Ramones & Alice Cooper. First you started as a cover band and soon began to write and play your own stuff. You’d been searching for a proper band name for weeks before you agreed to be called Sexy Magazine. The main theme you represented combined proto-punk style with shock rock elements. What you actually were was intimidating, and that’s how you chose the name—you really wanted to shock people.
One morning, you saw the announcement for the rock band audition at your school. You knew that with the name you had and songs you played you wouldn’t even stand a goddamn chance. After all, the school was looking for a group that would play at the upcoming dance and there was no way in hell a bunch of punks singing taboo shit would win—which was exactly why you signed up. All four of you thought it would be hilarious to walk up on stage and see how long it would take the judges to cut off the ultimate atrocity that you were.
On the day of the audition, you arrived somewhat early because you wanted to take a look at other bands. While you were hanging around, checking out the music and waiting for your name to be called, some cute guy in denim brushed hurriedly past you, slipping his guitar strap over one shoulder and heading to the front. His bandmates were already onstage. He walked up to the microphone, cleared his throat and said:
“We’re, uh... We’re The Pinheads.”
The Ramones’ Pinhead immediately started playing in your head and within an instant, all your attention was on those guys.
You were surprised to find out they weren’t going to play any Ramones. Instead, they started playing a thing you quickly recognized—it was The Power Of Love by Huey Lewis & The News.
And actually, they sounded amazing.
If this was a fair, honest-to-God rock band audition, these guys would make for some serious competition, you thought to yourself.
To your complete and utter shock, the judge stood up with a loudspeaker and cut them off within the first guitar riff. You couldn’t believe your ears.
Too darn loud?? It was a rock band audition, for crying out loud! Since when’s rock ‘n’ roll supposed to be soft?
The guy in denim looked disappointed. He quickly gathered his stuff and descended.
You honestly felt sorry for them because they sounded great and didn’t even get a proper chance. After that, it was almost final: you weren’t going to make it past five seconds on that stage, but you decided to go for it anyway.
You had agreed to play a song you wrote together called The Midnight Hour, which was basically the Cinderella story full of more or less subtle dirty references. You did have butterflies in your stomach despite the fact that you were there just for kicks. But as soon as you grabbed the mic and started singing, the feeling faded away—it was like an instant transformation.
You didn’t even notice how far into the song you’ve come and before you knew it, it was over and people were cheering, their voices snapping you back to reality. You exchanged incredulous glances with your friends, your breath caught in your throat. Even the judges seemed impressed. In fact, you saw the one with the glasses whisper something to the guy next to him, who nodded and immediately turned to the rest of them.
You thought it was all a joke. You couldn’t believe they’d let you play in the first place! This was the exact opposite of what you’d planned on doing. As much as you hated to admit it, you felt a wave of excitement wash over you as you watched the audience applauding with joy.
You sticked around for a short while afterwards and pretty soon the judges arose from their seats and signaled for everyone to gather around. They’d apparently decided on the winner.
“All right, everybody. Thank you all for participating. Your effort is appreciated. To be fair, we had a tough time choosing among so many great groups...”
A couple of kids exchanged amused looks and you heard faint snickering somewhere behind you. This guy talked like he was an actual game show host. It was ridiculous.
“...Congratulations to...”, he trailed off, taking a breath. When he spoke at last, it seemed as though he didn’t say, but spat out: “Sexy Magazine!”
Your bandmates started laughing in disbelief. You couldn’t seem to wrap your mind around what had just happened.
We won? Us?! We are going to play at the dance? 
A couple of kids came up to you to say congrats and tell you they’d really enjoyed the show. Some dude you recognized from earlier who looked as if he was high all of the time, the lead singer of some mediocre blues rock band, gave you a slow nod and a high-five and then proceeded to disappear somewhere in the crowd.
You turned around, searching the room for a specific face, but not his. You were trying to spot the one in denim, the Pinhead.
He was standing on the other end of the hall with his back to you, packing up his guitar. You pushed your way through the crowd, trying to reach him before he left. He unexpectedly turned around just as you were going to tap him on the shoulder.
“Hi”, you said, pulling your arm back.
He started, his brows furrowed. “Oh, uh... Hey.”
You wondered how come you hadn’t realized he had such beautiful eyes. Up close, he looked much more handsome than you’d thought at first.
“So, uh, I guess I just wanted to tell ya that I saw you play and you were really good. I mean, you sounded almost like Huey Lewis himself!”
You swore you saw a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he scratched his head nervously, shifting from one foot to the other.
“Well, thanks, but, uh... We didn’t play much, to be fair.”
“I know! I was really pissed when they cut you off like that. And then they let us play!”
He smiled uneasily and you thought he didn’t believe you.
“I’m not trying to sell you that fake modesty bullshit, I really think you guys were awesome. I was so angry they made you stop before the first verse. I wish I’d been able to hear you sing.”
His smile now grew bigger and more sincere as he locked his eyes on yours.
“Thank you”, he said, “it really means a lot. And, well, uh, congrats to you... I mean, you rocked that stage for real!”
You chuckled, feeling your cheeks redden all of a sudden. “Thanks! My name’s [Y/N], by the way.”
He shook your hand with a grin. “Nice to meet you, [Y/N]. I’m Marty, Marty McFly.”
The warm look in his eyes made your heart flutter. He was clumsy in a cute sort of way. He’d almost dropped his guitar case when he took your hand, which made you both laugh awkwardly.
“I ought to join my friends now, but it’s been real nice talking to you. I guess I’ll see you around, then”, you said, trying to sound casual.
“Yeah, sure thing. Thanks again. See you around, [Y/N]!”, he smiled and waved before he left.
You turned slowly and walked back over to your bandmates, trying to hide how flustered you were. His eyes and his laugh were the only things you could think about at that moment.
Marty? Such a nice name...
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