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Emily blinked as the swirl of neon smoke faded. Her feet touched down on a black-and-white checkered floor, slick with the glow of a disco ball spinning above. Pulsing synth music pumped through the speakers, thumping in her chest like a heartbeat. Colorful lights flickered across mirrored walls, and dancers in leg warmers, shoulder pads, and teased-up hair spun and laughed in a haze of sweat and joy.
Her eyes widened in wonder. "Oh... wow."
"Emily?" a voice said beside her.
She turned. Her grandpa stood next to her, eyes stretched wide, jaw slightly dropped. His denim jacket was somehow even more era-appropriate now, though he didn't seem to notice. His gaze darted around the club, taking in every detail with mounting disbelief.
"What did you do?" he asked, voice low, almost afraid.
Emily smiled sheepishly. "I just... I wished to see the 80s. Like in your stories. I wanted to see it for real."
He looked at her for a long second. "Are we stuck here?"
Before she could answer, a familiar smooth voice chimed in behind them.
"Nope!" Anu appeared, floating just above the ground, arms folded and smug as ever. "This is just a little trip. Think of it like... sightseeing. You'll be back in a few hours."
"I... I don't know what to say..." Grandpa began. His tone made Emily brace for disappointment.
But then he laughed-really laughed-and his face lit up like it hadn't in years.
"This is amazing!"
Emily grinned. "Yaaay!"
Grandpa turned slowly in place, overwhelmed. "This music... the clothes... this smell. I swear it smells like Aqua Net and cinnamon gum in here."
People around them danced and clapped, totally unaware of the three newcomers.
A waitress in red spandex and a high ponytail brushed past, balancing a tray of glowing drinks. She was headed straight for Grandpa.
"Woah-watch out," he said, stepping aside instinctively.
But she didn't stop. She walked straight through him.
Grandpa gasped, patting his chest in disbelief. "Did-did she just... go through me?!"
Anu smirked. "Yup. You're invisible. No interaction, no interference."
Grandpa stared at his hands. "I'm a ghost?"
"In a way," Anu said. "This is just a snapshot in time. You're not in the past, not really. More like... floating beside it."
Emily frowned. "Why?"
Anu floated backward, gesturing around him dramatically. "You ever hear of the butterfly effect? Change one thing in the past, you rewrite the whole future. It's one of those unspoken rules. You can watch the party. You just can't join it."
Emily nodded slowly, eyes wide as she took it all in-the colors, the sound, the joy. She could almost feel what it was like to live it.
Grandpa nudged her gently. "Thank you, Em. This is... it's like getting a second chance to say hello to an old friend."
Her smile beamed like a disco light. "You're welcome, Grandpa."
Grandpa leaned against the invisible bar, taking it all in with a wistful smile. "Now don't tell your mother I enjoyed this," he said under his breath, still watching the spinning disco lights. "If she asks, tell her I scolded you."
Emily giggled. "Deal."
But her laughter faded as her eyes drifted across the dance floor to a low-lit corner table. Two clubgoers sat hunched over, one of them holding a small plastic straw above a mirror. Something white and powdery was spread across the glass, like flour on a cutting board.
Emily squinted. "Hey... Grandpa?" she said cautiously, tugging his sleeve. "Is that the... um... special sugar you told me about?"
He followed her gaze.
"Oh... no," he muttered, eyes widening. "Oh boy..."
"Why are they sticking it up their nose?" she whispered loudly, her face scrunching in disgust. "That's so gross."
Grandpa shifted uncomfortably. "Oooookay. That's enough disco nostalgia for now..."
"I didn't know the 80s were this weird!"
"They were magical," Grandpa said quickly, trying to preserve the moment. "But also... full of bad decisions and, uh, experimental sugar."
Anu floated in behind them, eyebrows raised, already amused. "Yeah... let's not linger here too long."
"Take us somewhere else," Grandpa said, waving him forward. "Somewhere less... nose-oriented."
"Ooo," Anu grinned. "I know just the place."
He snapped his fingers, and in a blink, the disco floor melted into sparks.
The pounding music faded, replaced by the echo of sneakers on pavement... blinking arcade lights... the whirr of cassette tapes... and the unmistakable scent of fresh popcorn and carpet cleaner.
Emily blinked in awe.
"...Are we in a mall?" she asked.
"A mall," Anu said proudly, arms outstretched, "in 1984."
Grandpa clutched his chest. "You beautiful blue son of a gun..."
Emily stood frozen at the top of the escalator, her mouth slowly falling open.
Below them stretched an actual 1980s shopping mall-glowing, alive, and buzzing with neon-drenched energy. Every corner pulsed with light, music, and movement. People flooded the walkways in big hair, shoulder pads, mullets, high-waisted jeans, and windbreakers so loud you could hear them swish from across the food court.
"Whoa..." she breathed. "It's like a museum exploded."
Grandpa looked just as stunned. "This... this used to be the place. Back when going to the mall was an event. Look at those outfits! Acid-washed denim, leg warmers, perms, and-yep-there's a guy with a rat tail. I forgot those existed."
A girl passed by wearing hot pink tights under a skirt that looked like it was made from parachute material. Her Walkman was clipped proudly to her belt, and her headphones had orange foam pads.
"She's listening to actual tapes," Emily whispered.
They made their way down the escalator, eyes wide with wonder. Stores lined both sides of the corridor, their signage bold and blocky. Suncoast Video, packed with VHS tapes stacked like bricks. RadioShack, glowing red and humming with bulky gadgets. Spencer's Gifts was blasting synth music and filled with lava lamps, posters of rock bands, and weird T-shirts that said things like "I'm With Stupid."
In the corner, a KB Toys was practically bursting with action figures and dolls. Plastic bins overflowed with Ninja Turtles, Transformers, Barbies with crimped hair, and shelves of brightly colored board games like Mouse Trap and Mall Madness.
Emily's eyes lit up. "Look at this! I've only seen half of these in old YouTube videos!"
"YouTube?" Grandpa chuckled. "Back then, you wanted to watch a video, you went to a store and rented it. On a tape. And then rewound it-or else got charged a dollar."
They passed a food court with orange booths and long lines at places like Sbarro, Orange Julius, and Hot Dog on a Stick. Teenagers in crop tops and high-top Reeboks loitered around arcade machines, smacking gum and flirting under flickering fluorescent lights.
"People hang out here," Emily said, half in disbelief. "Like, on purpose."
"Yup. Back then, no social media. You wanted to meet someone, you showed up in person-probably wearing too much hairspray and hoping your mixtape wasn't rejected."
Anu floated beside them casually, sipping a translucent blue soda through a straw. "You know, the eighties weren't perfect... but they were iconic."
Emily stepped into a clothing store called Contempo Casuals and gasped at the explosion of color-racks of glittery tube tops, oversized blazers with bold geometric patterns, leather miniskirts, and giant costume earrings shaped like lightning bolts.
"I look like a boring library book compared to these people," she said, staring around with awe.
Grandpa chuckled and nudged her. "Don't worry, kid. You've got attitude. That's 80% of it."
"Hey, look," Emily said, pointing. "That store's selling tape decks, and over there-those are Polaroid cameras, right?!"
"You bet," Grandpa said proudly. "Took actual pictures with those. And guess what-no filters, no delete button. You had to live with your dumb face."
They wandered further, lost in a whirlwind of music, colors, voices, and memories.
"This place is magic," Emily whispered.
"For once," Grandpa said, putting an arm around her shoulder, "I think I agree with the genie."
Anu smirked. "Don't get used to it, old man."
After a while of soaking in the sights, sounds, and shoulder pads of the mall, Grandpa glanced down at his imaginary watch and smirked.
"Well, that's the mall," he said. "Now how about we really dive into the eighties?"
Emily tilted her head. "More eighties than this?"
Grandpa's eyes twinkled with nostalgia. "There's one place that defined the decade more than anywhere else. The heart of flash, fashion, music videos, breakdancing, and chaos..."
Anu raised a brow. "Oh boy. You're thinking what I think you're thinking?"
Grandpa pointed dramatically into the air. "Times Square. 1980s New York City. In all its neon, gritty, weird glory."
Emily's eyes widened. "Wait-THE Times Square? With the billboards and crowds and taxis and-"
"And street performers, arcades, punk rockers, and bootleg VHS tapes sold on milk crates," Grandpa said, practically glowing now. "It was wild. It was weird. It was the eighties cranked up to eleven."
Anu grinned. "Dangerous, grimy, and totally off the rails? I'm in."
Emily's heart pounded with excitement. "Take us!"
"Hold tight," Anu said, his hands already swirling with sparkling energy. "This next one's gonna be loud."
A vortex of blue and pink smoke spiraled around them, pulsing to the rhythm of some far-off synth beat. Emily grabbed Grandpa's hand as the mall melted away.
And then-
BAM.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEExmuGyX9q
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They landed in the middle of a loud, dirty, glorious New York street.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYT6Ni2AdBr
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Taxi horns blared. Massive flashing billboards loomed overhead. Vendors shouted from the sidewalks. Breakdancers spun on cardboard to the beat of a boombox. A man in a Statue of Liberty costume was yelling at a pigeon.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvBKRMcnjt9
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Emily's jaw dropped. "Okay... this is insane."49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡd2NCP9oo5U
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A giant theater marquee advertised a Back to the Future screening. Graffiti covered the sides of buildings like murals. A guy in parachute pants was spray painting on a wall while blasting Run-D.M.C. from his shoulder stereo.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBsfzo6fTmT
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"You wanted the eighties?" Grandpa laughed. "Here's the beating heart of it."49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6AHL9ZHKJ7
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They stepped aside to avoid a group of girls with teased hair higher than their foreheads, dragging shopping bags and quoting Madonna lyrics. A guy roller-skated past in neon green short-shorts and a crop top that said "YOLO"-back when it wasn't ironic.49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw0wP0hmiTR
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Emily just spun in a circle, trying to take it all in. "This is WILD."
"Welcome to the eighties, New York-style," Grandpa said. "And just remember-don't tell your mother I enjoyed this. If she asks, say I scolded you."
"Don't worry, grandpa I won't." Emily giggled, locking pinkies with him.
Anu floated above the chaos, sipping another weird soda. "So... pizza next? You haven't lived till you've had a New York slice in 1985."
Emily grinned. "Let's do it."
They turned the corner and ducked into a grimy little pizza shop wedged between a pawn shop and a video rental store. The door creaked open with a jingle, and the scent hit them instantly-molten cheese, tomato sauce, and just a hint of burnt crust.
Inside, the place was buzzing. Greasy linoleum floors, red-and-white checkered tablecloths, and a small TV in the corner playing Knight Rider on fuzzy reception. A line of customers shouted their orders over the hum of arcade machines in the back.
Emily stared, wide-eyed, as the pizza guy-sweaty, mustached, and moving like he was running a marathon-slid a bubbling cheese pizza out of the oven with a long wooden paddle.
"Aw man," she whispered. "That smells amazing."
"Yeah," Grandpa sighed. "It always hit different in this city."
Without a word, Anu floated just a few inches off the ground, shimmering faintly in the warm air. With a smooth flick of his fingers, he opened a small glowing ripple in reality-no bigger than a mail slot-right next to the oven.
The slice vanished mid-air before the pizza guy could even notice.
A second later, it slipped through a new ripple right into Anu's hand, steam still rising.
He passed it to Emily with a grin. "Straight from the source. I might've added a sprinkle of magic oregano."
Emily blinked. "You... you just stole pizza from 1985."
"I like to think of it as borrowing," Anu said, smug. "Besides, they won't miss it. The eighties were lawless."
Emily took a bite-and immediately froze.
Her eyes fluttered shut. "Oh my gosh. This is... this is the best pizza I've ever had."
"Told you," Anu said, floating backward like a smug balloon.
Grandpa grinned, arms crossed. "Alright, now I'm jealous."
Emily tore off a piece and handed it to him. "Here. Mom's not here to stop us."
He took it, smiled, and said under his breath, "Best rebellion I've had in years."
They stepped outside again, greasy napkin in hand, pizza in belly, and the neon madness of Times Square flashing all around them like a dream.
THE WILD EIGHTIES49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7SFmZ9sy5j
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Cue synth-heavy music: "You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)"
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Emily stands in the middle of a packed arcade, her mouth open in awe. Neon lights reflect off her eyes as kids in scrunchies and acid-wash jeans slam buttons on Pac-Man, Galaga, and Street Fighter. She watches a teenager with fingerless gloves crush the high score, his Walkman headphones bouncing to the beat.
VINYL & CASSETTE MUSIC STORE49Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡV9YhTywF8m
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They step into a smoky, cluttered music shop packed with posters of Prince, Madonna, and Guns N' Roses. Rows of records line the walls while teens dig through crates for hidden gems. Emily picks up a cassette and reads it like it's an ancient scroll. Grandpa grins as a guy with a mohawk argues about which Aerosmith album is their best. A clerk offers demo headphones to a couple slow-dancing by a stereo display. "Now this was romance," Grandpa whispers.
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Scented corner where kids argue over which Rambo movie to rent.
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They peek inside a packed hair salon where everyone is either getting perms or teased bangs taller than their foreheads. A guy walks out with a mullet so glorious it should have its own zip code. Emily stares, amazed. "That's... beautiful."
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Colored lights swirl as a disco ball spins above the rink. Emily and Grandpa float invisibly alongside skaters jamming out to Whitney Houston, kids with headbands and glowing wristbands dancing while holding giant orange Slushies. Grandpa whistles, "Now this was Saturday night."
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They step into a toy store lit like a carnival. A kid drags a He-Man figure toward the register while another clutches a brand-new Lite-Brite. Emily sprints over to the My Little Pony shelf, nearly squealing. "They had these back then?!"
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Grandpa points out a shiny, untouched McDonald's with its old red bench seats and a terrifying Ronald statue outside. Inside, a kid's meal comes with a toy and a Transformers puzzle. Anu, invisible to all, swipes a single fry and winks.
After the toy store, the roller rink, and a near tearful goodbye to a glittering cassette wall, their final stop was the most iconic of all-a Michael Jackson concert.
The crowd was electric. Laser lights lit up the arena, MJ moonwalked across the stage, and the beat of Billie Jean thumped in Emily's chest like a second heartbeat. She jumped in place with joy, even though no one could see her.
Kyra, wide-eyed, leaned over to Grandpa and whispered, "Whoa... he was Black back then?"
Grandpa choked on his own laughter. "Don't say that out loud!"
Anu, arms crossed and hovering just above the crowd, chuckled. "Okay, I think this was a very fun field trip-but it's time to head back."
Emily spun around. "What?! Already?!"
"Yes," Anu said with a tilt of his head. "I think so. It's already been two months..."
Grandpa's jaw dropped. "Two months?! No, no, we've only been here a couple of hours!"
"Four hours to be exact," Anu replied calmly. "But time works differently here. In your timeline, almost two months have passed."
"What... how... oh my God," Grandpa said, gripping his chest. "Everyone must be worried sick."
"Yes... well-most, at least," Anu said with a sly smile.
Kyra's eyes widened too, her posture stiffening. "Two months? That means... wait-what if someone found the lamp?"
"Don't worry, little Emily," Anu said, floating down beside her with a wink and a grin. "By the time we get back, your Uncle should've already cashed in the stock investments... and you'll be rich."
"Really?!" she squealed, practically bouncing. "Like, rich rich?"
Anu gave a playful shrug. "Well, as long as your Uncle didn't spend it all already..."
"He better not have!" she said, pouting hard enough to wrinkle her whole forehead.
"Well," Anu said, stretching his glowing fingers, "there's only one way to find out."
He snapped.
A burst of golden light exploded outward-then the crowd, the arena, and the eighties melted away like ink in water.
Suddenly...
They were home.
Back in the living room.
And something... felt off.
Very off.
The air was different. Heavier. Too quiet.
Emily blinked. "Um... why does it smell like burnt popcorn and... shampoo?"
Anu's smile faded slightly. "Uh-oh."
Grandpa straightened his collar. "What the hell happened while we were gone?"
Anu crossed his arms. "Well... technically, you wished to see the eighties. Not what happens while you were gone."
Emily's eyes widened. "Uncle Joe..."
And just like that-
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