maskormenacelogs | lessons in guitar-ing and also how to people

WHO: Max n' Marty, also Doc later
WHERE: Marty's house, while his roomies are gone (because noise)
WHEN: sssometime mid-july? Will be hasned out
WHAT: Guitar lessons! And then... well, other hard lessons, too.
WARNINGS: strained friendships :(

---

Max had a good enough handle on his portals to know the quickest way to De Chima without using the porter. It wasn't too much quicker but sure as heck needed less walking, which was especially good if he was carrying a bulky guitar case.

He arrived right on time - maybe a few minutes early? It didn't hurt to be a little early, especially for guitar lessons from Marty freakin' McFly. He was a time traveler, he could appreciate a little punctuality, right?

The weight of the guitar case slung across his back hung heavy on his shoulders, and even through the case he could smell the oil and varnish on the new guitar. He'd already played around with it, learned a few things, but there was still plenty of breaking in to do before that new guitar smell gave way to old guitar smell... whatever that was.

Max rocked back on his heels once he knocked, grinning with excitement.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Marty wouldn't lie- being looked up to when it came to guitar was pretty damn awesome.

When it came to people watching him and Doc because of that movie they were in, he's never felt all that comfortable. It was such a weird thing, knowing that someone actually took the time (and got paid the money) to perform every little act he's done. Some people out there knew Marty perfectly from head to toe, and yet he's never seen them at all. It's such a creepy feeling. And honestly? It's a little invasive, too.

But he puts all of that aside for Max's sake. For the most part, he seems to be an okay guy. There's been times where he's gotten under his skin, sure. That didn't make Max a bad person.

Marty's got the guitar tuned up by the time he hears the knock on the door. He greets his guest with a smile, stepping aside to let Max in. "Heeey, how's it goin'?"

Max never made it a habit to get on people's nerves, certainly. He always open-minded, witty, and friendly, and prided himself on being rather easy to get along with -- providing, you know, you weren't an ancient necromancing demigod out to kill his friends. That's where he draws the line.

That said, even the most friendly of people can get under someone's skin even with the best intentions. Too bubbly? His dry wit getting taken the wrong way? Heck, even picking up guitar too fast could rile someone up. Max had taken to it like a fish to water, picking it up quicker than most kids might at his age.

Still, if any of this had been bothering Marty, it would be news to Max. He thought they were getting along great. After all he and Doc were getting along great, too.

"Doin' great! Having a lot of fun with this. Thanks again for teaching me." He set his case down and stretched, happy to get that weight off. "I talked to Doc on the way here, he says he's gonna be a little late. Got caught up with something."

"Doc's gonna be late?" Marty repeats that halfheartedly, resisting the urge to check out his computer. Did Doc send him a message that he'd be late, too? If he knew that his friend was going to be late, he would have postponed their lesson by an hour, maybe two. Doc's friends were great and all, but when it came to Marty, he felt like they weren't exactly buddy buddy. The last thing he wanted was to feel awkward. As a teenager, he felt that enough on a good day. The less the better.

Now wasn't the time to worry about this though. Max was clearly excited about these guitar lessons; this is what he should be focusing on. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of this stupid, nagging feeling. "Right, that's fine. Whenever he comes is fine with me." Which wasn't exactly true, but Max didn't need to know that.

Marty clears his throat. If he was going to teach someone how to play the guitar, he was going to do it right. "Okay. So a few days ago I went and bought some of these guitar lesson books." He takes a few sitting near his guitar, and hands them over to his student (ooh, student. that's neat). "They're...kinda boring, but if you want we can start with that. I more or less taught myself how to play, but it was a hell of a lot harder."

He takes a seat. "How do you wanna try?"

"Yeah, he didn't say what he was doing, but he'll be here soon," Max muttered, taking the offered guitar books and flipping through them curiously. "Maybe he's hanging out with Mister Gold again."

A smirk crossed his face at the comment at the thought of Doc and Gold, though he didn't look up from the book. More than anything it was just a bit of smug satisfaction that he'd introduced a pair of friends who'd hit it off so well, and his mind quickly dropped the subject and moved on to the task at hand.

"Scales, chords, finger exercises..." Max finally looks up, offering a more cheerful smile this time. "Guess it makes sense, I can't exactly start off with Johnny B. Goode and The Power of Love, right?" Much as he'd like to try.

Who? Marty blinks, giving Max a confused. look. "Mister Who?"

Come on, Marty. Breathe. Just because Doc was your best friend, didn't mean you were his parent. If he wants to make friends, fine! If he doesn't want to tell Marty about it, fine again! There's guitar lessons to do; it's not going to teach itself, anyway.

Max's smile catches Marty off guard a little. It's a friendly enough sight where he can put off whatever was bothering him and focus on the present. Especially, especially when those two songs were brought up. This kid didn't miss a beat, did he?

"...Why can't we start with those?" Marty frowns to himself. He doesn't remember much about what he got started with in regards to guitar, but he didn't have a book about struts and strings, and whatever. He listened to a song, he mimicked the song. And then he took it from there.

"Half of the time you got guitar players who can knock out whatever music you give 'em. Like, I've heard of guys who can play an entire song from scratch and not mess up a note. But they never have the drive, y'know?" Marty looks over to Max, pointing to one of the books. "That can tell you to finger A and B, but you gotta have the want to make it sound good. If you don't put everything you got into your music, it's gonna sound like shit."

Watch your language, Marty. "...Y'know what I mean?"

Max looks genuinely surprised at Marty's confusion. Really? Marty didn't know a friend of Doc's? "Mister Gold. He runs a shop. Uh... I guess they really hit it off because they both like makin' stuff."

And because they both have a friend in common, Max supposes, but judging by that reaction he's not sure he wants Marty to know who introduced them. Instead, he listens intently to Marty's explanation, looking more and more excited at the prospect. Already Max's imagination is filled with scenes of him shredding on a stage, covering Nirvana hits to a screaming, energetic crowd.

"Hey, we can play it by ear. Teach me how you feel comfortable and if it's too hard, we can dial it back." He grins, miming an air guitar and pretending to shred it. "And if it's too easy we can kick it into overdrive!"

He steps back as part of his little charade, forgetting he'd set his own guitar down behind him, and promptly trips. He cries out and stumbles, dropping the air guitar to flail his arms, and in the end gravity wins out. He goes hurling toward the wall and the guitar stand up against it.

Max looking confused at this only makes his blood boil more. Why was Doc telling his new friends all of this, but throwing Marty off the wayside? Was this all on purpose or was Doc truly forgetting that hey! Marty McFly is one of his friends too! Marty wants to believe that everything is okay, he really does. But it's hard when you have people who haven't known Doc as long as Marty has, but they seem to know more. There's something not right here.

But Marty shrugs. Focus. Focus focus.

Max is so excited about this, so he should be happy too, right? Big breath in, big breath out. He tries to make himself smile, and almost does, but what's when Max ends up tripping over something- his guitar. The world goes into slow-mo as Max stumbles backwards, running right into the wall and the guitar Doc had bought Marty a while back. When he falls backwards, there's a sickening crack!

The neck of the guitar is spent, severed right in half. What was once a nice guitar -and a present from Doc before all this went haywire- is now junk.

Oh my god. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Marty wants to say something, but rage is slowly starting to fill up the bucket and is threatening to overflow. He should ask if Max hurt himself, but he won't. Not now.

He falls, he hits the ground, he hears a crack, there's pain in his arm and two halves of a guitar on the floor. It all happens so fast that Max needs a moment to parse the sequence of events. There's a long, tense silence as the realization dawns on Max, but when it does, the horror sets in quickly. His eyes widen as his jaw hangs open, and he scrambles to his feet.

"Oh. Oh no. Marty, I'm..." He reaches down for the guitar pieces, frantically grabbing the neck and trying to press it against the body, as if force of will could weld them together. He ignores the small slice in his arm where he'd struck and smashed the instrument. "I'm so sorry. We can — I could — I'm sure Doc can fix it, right?"

lessons in guitar-ing and also how to people

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject