Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
█║▌│║│║█║█║▌│█║▌│║│║█
THE NEAREST RECORD STORE was in the next town over, making the journey ten times as difficult without a car. Unbothered by the commute as she had things to acquire, the young Roxanne sat forwarding through the tape in her cassette player with her window seat. The first months of school proved to be as much of a hell as she had expected for it to be. In fact, she thought it to be quite worse. She went to the grounds, sat in class to the judgmental stares, ate lunch alone, and met her brother outside if he wasn't heckling another peer. Sometimes she would have her saving grace, but even then it felt she was treated like her secret more than anything.
Today, she was also by herself, having become so accustomed to it that bringing company made her physically ill. The time the bus ride took wasn't too unbearable as it beat having to be stuck at home with her family; a break by any means was her main intent. The bus abruptly came to a stop into town which saw her now hopping out with anticipation to make the familiar trek to the record store.
Lingering in the back of the bus still as he wasn't prepared to be at his destination quite yet, which explained the drool he was wiping off his mouth, another going to the very same destination grabbed his things hurriedly. The bus driver looked to the boy annoyed who noticed and shone an apologetic smile their way. "McFly..."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Marty nearly dropped his skateboard and pack when packing out the door and speaking to the driver. "Just dozed off— again." Shaking their head to him they shut the door once he got off leaving him adjusting himself and going on his way. Kicking up the loose gravel from the side of the road he went on this way up until he was able to safely start traveling on his skateboard.
The town itself was much like Hill Valley, lacking any sense of social development as they were too isolated from anything. Suburbia heaven for all the adults born in the 50's to gawk about while their children lacked any sense of individuality and dreaded every hour they spent there. Considering though that the music seemed to get here sooner than it did back home he took what he could get, making the best out of a more than average situation if you will.
Opening the doors he was greeted with the atmosphere of Peaches Record Stores and Tapes. A store that mimicked the supermarket theming so much that, if you were lucky, you could catch a more than confused grandma entering in to find vinyl and tapes instead of produce.
Eagerly Marty made his way to the cashier recognizing the teen from another visit who seemed less than excited to see him. Currently he was helping out another individual, but it was hard to get a clear view of her as she was beating him by a couple inches in height. The blonde streaks in her hair were fading, but it went along with her tattered appearance it seemed. Tights covered in holes, bleach stains on her shirt, he figured she was in high school at least.
