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there were rumors about elvis bringing people back to his hotel rooms. you didn’t know much about it though. the tabloids just loved to come up with all sorts of stories when it came to him.
and to be fair, what he wants to do in his free time after shows is none of your business.
you weren’t that kind of fan. the kind of fan screaming and jumping up and down in your seat begging for a kiss. you enjoyed the show, kept to yourself and took in the moment.
apparently, elvis liked that about you.
there was a moment during the show where he went off to the side and pointed at you while speaking to charlie. you didn’t think much of it. maybe he was pointing at the girl behind you. things like this didn’t happen to you. what would elvis presley want from you anyway? you were an ordinary person with not much to offer.
once the concert ended, your ears left ringing as you were hit with that sudden empty feeling one gets after a concert, you were stopped by the same man elvis was speaking to earlier. you panicked as he introduced himself to you and asked if you were in a rush to get home. there was no way you’d beat the traffic now and you were curious as to why he was asking you this in the first place.
“elvis would like to meet you.”
you blinked a few times, taking in the words that just came out of his mouth. instead of just saying okay, the only word to escape your lips was “why?”.
he was taken back by your response, usually expecting a more riled up reply. “i-i’m not sure.” he stuttered out. “i believe it’s personal. we’re offering you a ride back to his hotel.”
“well-okay.”
the car ride was slightly awkward. it was silent and you were often given a side eye through the mirrors as if he was trying to figure out why elvis would want you at his hotel and not another woman.
he brought you up to elvis’s room, knocking a few times before a faint ‘come in’ was heard from the other side. charlie gestured for you to go in to which you thanked him and entered the cool, dimmed hotel room. you shut the door behind you and stood there awkwardly, unsure of how exactly to make your presence known.
it was a nice little room. his suits were hanging neatly in the closet, jewelry was spread out on a table as well as various pill bottles and a glass of water right beside them.
elvis wandered out of the bathroom, hair damp with his pajamas on comfortably. “oh!” he stepped back slightly. “are you-”
“um-charlie said you wanted to see me.” nervousness heavy in your voice.
“right!” he snapped his fingers. “forgot for a moment. nice to meet ya. no need to be scared or anythin’” he chuckled.
you couldn’t help but give him a small smile, he was so gorgeous up close. and god, he smelt wonderfully. you could have practically melted right there. you introduced yourself to him, shaking his hand as he gestured for you to take a seat on the sofa.
“sure you’re wonderin’ why i asked you up here.” he said, opening a small bottle of pills and spilling a few in his hand. “promise it’s nothin’ crazy. i know them magazines say some things about me.” he popped the pills in his mouth, washing it down with the glass of water. “sleeping pills, by the way. helps with my insomnia.”
you nodded, minding your business as always.
he sighed, taking a seat next to you. “honestly, y-you might think it’s silly.” he voiced out, letting out an awkward laugh. “i-i really just wanted someone to talk to. it gets lonesome sometimes.”
“lonesome?” you repeated back. it was hard to believe someone like elvis presley was lonely. he seemed to have many friends, girlfriends too. having charlie bring you back to his hotel just for the sole purpose of elvis having someone to talk to was new to you. you couldn’t help but wonder if his charlie or any of his other friends knew why you were in his hotel room. “you?”
he shrugged, sitting back and throwing an arm behind you on the sofa, his hands rubbing at the leathered texture. “is it that hard to believe?” he asked.
“well….” you paused, looking over at him. “yes.”
he shook his head, looking out the window. “everyone always makes me out to be someone i’m not.” he muttered sadly. “you probably thought i brought ya in here for sex, right? for a quickie?”
you widened your eyes at him. he had a point, that’s the reasoning you had in mind. you weren’t just going to admit it obviously, that felt disrespectful. what’s even crazier is you would have been open to it, but really, you were okay with just sitting down and talking to him.
elvis let out a soft laugh, waving you off. “’s fine. y'can leave if ya want. i get it.” he said with a hint of sadness to his voice.
“and what if i don’t leave?”
his eyes lit up, sitting up slightly. “you mean that?”
you wondered if any girls had left him for that very reason, expecting a sex filled night from the king himself but only to be hit with nothing but conversation. the idea of him having to show girls the way out for not wanting to talk stirred a few emotions within you. you almost felt bad. “of course. i’m pretty good listener, i think.”
elvis began to get slowly comfortable with you over time. overtime, you understood more why he just sometimes wanted someone to talk to. he spoke to you about books, his love for gospel music and how spiritual he is. spirituality wasn’t much of your thing, but you were deeply fascinated with how passionate he was about it. “god has a plan for everyone, everything happens for a reason.” he said to you, taking ahold of your hands. “b-but sometimes, it’s just hard. as if all i have is the lord.” he let out a heavy sigh and let go of your hands. “what is my purpose?”
unsure of what to say, you sat there frozen. this wasn’t the conversation you thought you’d be having with elvis. you watched as he stood up and shoved hands in his pockets, his bare feet padding to the large window showing the glowing lights from the building across the street. he stood there, staring at the city lights. “sometimes i’m tired of playin’ elvis presley.”
his words broke your heart. the loneliness and dread he felt must have been so heavy and you only wished you could take it away from him. “i’m just talkin’ your ear off. ’m sorry. don’t get to talk about things like this often.”
“no-no, it’s okay. really. i’m just….at a loss for words if i’m being honest.” you finally spoke. “the papers really do have you all wrong.”
he scoffed. “they’re all trash.” he muttered. “nobody ever wants to know how elvis is feelin’, nobody ever wants to ask how he’s doin’. been this way for the last ten years.”
“i can’t believe i have something in common with elvis presley.” you joked.
he gave you a quick glance, chuckling softly to himself. “at least we have eachother.”
“something like that.” you said lowly. “do you just feel….i don’t know, trapped?”
he looked at you surprised, rushing over to you and taking a seat next to you again. “that’s exactly how it feels.” there was a hint of excitement in his voice, as if he was happy to have someone who finally understood him. “i can’t have an opinion on nothin’, i didn’t wanna film all those movies. i didn’t wanna do this tour.”
you frowned. “what do you wanna do, then?”
his lips perked up slightly. “i wanna leave the country. fly far away, take some time to myself. just to heal. i-i wanna be healthy again.” he looked down at himself, letting a sad sigh. “i ain’t what i used to be. tired of all the same songs i gotta sing every night, just wanna sing the songs i wanna sing.”
you rested your hand on his knee, the sudden touch jolting him softly but bringing him some sort of comfort. “you really do amaze me.”
he blushed slightly, looking at the floor. he couldn’t remember the last time someone had said that to him. it was nice to be seen has a human being and not a rock star for once, if you’d call it that.
“look at me.” elvis had suddenly gone shy, almost afraid to make eye contact with you. “i’m serious, elvis. after tonight, i gained a lot of respect for you. really. you and i are so alike…..”
“what about you?” he asked. “what do you wanna do?”
you thought for a minute. “i too, would like to travel. i don’t really know what i wanna do. i don’t really have any dreams.”
“no kids? getting married?”
you shrugged. “i gave up on that. it’s just not gonna happen for me and i’m slowly just starting to accept it.”
“hmm.” elvis stood up and walked over to the dresser, popping a couple more pills into his mouth. “definitely feel that.” he mumbled as he sat back down. you wanted to bring up the pills, asking why he took more. you did notice how the dose he took earlier hadn’t kicked in as you both been sitting there talking for quite some time now.
“do you want to get married again?” you asked instead, ignoring the sudden pill usage.
he got silent, fidgeting with one of the rings on his fingers as he stared at the floor.
“sorry, i-i shouldn’t have said anything. i know-um-the divorce really….”
he interrupted you. “it’s fine.” he muttered. “it is what it is.” you both grew for a moment, knowing that lingering on that topic wasn’t a good idea. “would be nice though, falling in love 'n all that. my momma always wanted me to settle down. can’t even get that right.”
“you know how you told me everything happens for a reason?” elvis raised a brow at you. “i’m sure there’s someone out there for you, you still have a lot of life to live.”
he stared at you for a minute, taking in your presence and the words that just came out of your mouth. “you deserve to heal.”
the tears in his eyes said enough, he didn’t know how to respond. just an hour ago you saw this same man run and jump around on stage and now here he is, vulnerable and lost. your words struck a chord with him. “nobody has ever said that to me before.” he shook his head in disbelief, a slight tremble in his voice.
“but i’m here now and i mean it, you deserve the love that you give.” you added.
“how am i supposed to know if someone loves me for me a-and not for elvis presley?” his voice filled with sadness.
you scooted closer to him, gently rubbing at his back. “you’ll know.”
he gave you a soft smile in response. the heaviness in his heart was easing away. this was something he wished he could do more often, talk to people. to vent and have people understand him. there was something special about you that he really admired, like you saw him as a human being and not as some big celebrity. “god brought you to me for a reason.” he threw his head back on the couch, feeling the effects of his pills start to finally take its coarse through his body. “i like you.”
“is that so?” you noticed the quick change in his body language, moving yourself to prop an elbow on top of the sofa, resting your temple on your fist.
“mhm.” he closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. “easy to talk to. ’t’s all i wanted…jus’ t’ talk….nothin’ more.” he slurred out. “'n y'know somethin’? y’ deserve to be happy too.”
you gulped, trying to not let his words get to you. you stood up and held out your hand. “i think we need to get you in bed.” you muttered.
“too much sadness 'n pain in this world.” he continued, “someone like you doesn’t deserve all that.” elvis sat up slightly, looking at you with tired eyes. “y’ made me v'ry happy tonigh’….”
his words continued to slur more and you just wanted to get him in bed then make your exit, if he’d let you obviously. you helped him off the couch while he continued to ramble on about you, comparing your feelings to his. he managed to get himself in bed, only having you help him get the comforter over his body.
“hol’ on.” he said to you as you began to gather your things. “will you stay wit’ me?”
you looked at him in bewilderment, “i-i don’t know if that’s a good idea….”
“please?” he begged with a hint of hurt in his voice. “don’ leave me here alone. jus’ want a friend…’s all.”
part of you wanted to stay but part of you was afraid of what would happen in the morning. would he leave you in the morning? would he forget this entire conversation? you’d grown attached to elvis in just a short amount of time, aching to be by his side at all times. perhaps he was right, god did bring you to him for a reason. hopefully a good one.
giving into your thoughts, you set your things back down and gave him a soft look. whatever happens in the morning is up to god. it’s in his hands. “okay.”