(Y/N)'s POV:
As I started coming back to my senses, the room around me was no longer the same. An ABBA poster was now above my bed, which I did not own. A Andy Gibb cutout also came into my vision. I kept thinking to myself, I must be dreaming. I look around to find a mirror or a calendar, whichever I found first. I come up to the full-length mirror and shrieked in disbelief. My hair was flared out with wispy bangs, I had blue eyeshadow on, which is not my color. I also had a matching denim jumpsuit and platforms on. As I contiuned to look around the room, a calendar with May 1978 was hanging on the back of the door. My dream came true, but how is this all possible?
I opened the door of the room and this definitely was not my house. I looked around for some keys and pocketed them just so I didn't lock myself out. I adventured outside, as weird as my makeup was and began walking. Not much was different then 2021 except face masks weren't on everyone.
The biggest thing that had changed was the cars. There was beautiful, brand new Chevys and Lincoln's parked along the curb. As I was walking along, I kept mistepping because of these platforms. Ok, I may have been wrong on the fashion from the 1970s. I didn't wanna die from these shoes. Despite being distracted by the cars, I heard high pitch teenage screams coming from the direction I was walking. I mistepped on the curb and fell into someone, literally.
I pushed back as fast as I could. I began to apologize under my breath, "I am so sorry I literally don't know how to walk." Then, a hand brought my head up. "No need to apologize darling," a man with a foreign accent stated. As our eyes met, my voice got caught in my throat. The soft spoken man was no other than Andy Gibb. Where was this luck for my biology and pre-calc classes?
I finally snapped into reality as he kept eye contact with me. I began to speak, "No it's my fault, uh sir." I tried to hide the fact that I actually knew who he was.
"No sweat, dude," I tried to reassure the Australian. Andy began to smile. "Well darling, can I least take you to dinner perhaps tonight after my show so I can make up for my mistake?"
All I could think to myself was how was my luck changing to this? Andy Gibb literally just asked me out.
I sighed, "You know what that would be lovely uhhhhh."
Andy stuck his hand out, "The names Andy, Andy Gibb. I'm surprised you don't recognize me as all those teenage girls did."
I shook my head, trying to keep it cool, "No I'm really more of a country girl to be honest. My names (Y/N) (Y/L/N). This disco stuff is a little too heavy for my liking."
He smiled and said, "I better get going. We can meet at Hill Street Bar. Tell them you are there to meet Johnny Martin. That's my alias so we don't get mobbed by fans." I smiled as we parted ways.
I was walking now on Hollywood Boulevard and spotted a record store. I felt in my pockets to see if I had any cash. I ended up pulling out a credit card. Hmmm I could get use to this. Even if this was only temporary, I snagged a signed copy of Andy's newest album Shadow Dancing and a few poster and tees.
Even if I don't get to keep these, boy this is a wonderful teenage dream. I headed back to my apartment to get ready for a date that I never thought would come true.
YOU ARE READING
Taken Too Seriously- An Andy Gibb/Karen Carpenter What If Fanfiction
Ficção Histórica(Y/N) is feeling blue. Everything she loves revolves around the 1970s. During a thunderstorm, she's basking in her bedroom playing her favorite ABBA album when her emotions push her over the edge. In anger, she sc...
