1984 | choi chanhee ♫

CHAPTER ONE

Y/N POV

"Tell me lies.. tell me sweet little lies~"♫
My Mom's music boomed out from the speakers downstairs. The Chatter and obnoxious laughter of her friends heavily drowned out the background music. It was another one of her house parties, per usual she had been playing 80s playlists and reminiscing on past times. The multicolored flashes of her disco lights, leaking beneath the crack of my doorway.

Like always, I had isolated myself into my room. Not daring to wander down the stairs on such a night, I glued myself to my phone screen. Texting the groupchat tirelessly on how much I could not bare being in the chaos that was my Mother's "Friday night Fiesta.". They'd laugh and tell me to quit being so introverted. However, I couldn't help but be irritated by my Mom's constant partying and feel good attitude. She'd tell me I was too absorbed in my screen... zombified... to be exact. As if she was listening to my thoughts, in comes my Mother. Her tightly pin curled hair and hot fuchsia lipstick highlighting her bold and bubbling presence.

"Come on Y/N, I'm sick of you spending so much time in here." She sat on my bed with a fun loving bounce, her bright smile stretching ear to ear.
"I'm sick of all the parties Mom." I sighed, rolling my eyes. I drew my gaze back to my phone screen, ignoring the woman who was clearly drunk and now giggling on my bed. She swung her legs up and down excitedly before beginning to speak.
"You know Y/N, you should of lived in the 80s. Then you'd understand! it was the time to be alive! The parties, the lifestyle, the music, the boys." She wriggled her eyebrows unnervingly. To which, I just sighed locking my phone with a quick snap, before sitting and looking at her dead faced.
"You tell me this every time you try get me to come downstairs Mom." I said in a more sarcastic tone to get through the colorful persona of my Mom's aura.
"Yeah but maybe you wouldn't be so absorbed in that thing and you'd enjoy life more Y/N. It's a real shame you all don't know what living is." She shook her head pointing to the mobile I held in my hand. As she lost the fluorescent tone in her voice, I couldn't help but feel slightly bad for snapping at the woman for just trying to get me to come join her fun. It was still a firm no from me on the party, but at least my Mom and her friends enjoyed them.

I locked my phone, putting it down to charge, throwing it on my bed side drawers with a piercing drop. Consequently, I had knocked my alarm clock off the the surface, watching it land with a harsh clatter. The two golden hands had jarred, causing it to stick at 10:30pm. I groaned not being able to fix it and placed it back on the side. Crawling in to my covers I awaited slumber, falling asleep as Whitney Houston faded into the background. My mother still partying into the hours of the early morning.

——

"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" A female voice shouted bursting into my room in a frantic rush. I jolted awake from my covers in shock, looking over to where my Mother stood. However when I looked, something was off, her hair was in vintage rollers, she wore thick rimmed glasses that magnified her eyes extremely. Her frame was wrapped in a robe that seemed to look as if it had been bought from the local thrift store.
"Why aren't you awake?! It's 10:30! How long have you been sleeping for?" She said as my eyes flew to where I had put my phone and alarm clock last night.
"Mom where's my phone?" I asked slightly panicked as it had gone missing from the mahogany top of my drawers.
"You mean the telephone?" She looked at me questionably as if I was crazy for a second. "It's downstairs. Where it always is."
"No I mean my mobile phone." I looked back peculiarly also, perhaps she had just hidden it after out conversation last night.
"I'm not paying for you a brick phone! They're so expensive! just use the landline to call your friends!" She tutted, sighing as she left the room in a busy waddle. What does she mean.. brick phone.. what?
"Mom?" I shouted down the hall way in slight fear. "What's the date?"
"April 17th 1984, honey!" She shouted back, my stomach dropped as if all my senses had failed me. This had to be a joke, time travel isn't possible.