Elvis Presley • Austin Butler imagines

The Record Shop -ELVIS

•Y/n POV•

I took a deep breathe in of the smell of the record shop I work at. "Bangin' Records!". I coughed right after that. It's a pretty old shop, causing it to often collect dust in the air. But besides that, it was a pretty popular shop in our small town in Memphis.

We have been open since 10, and it was now 12 PM. We had our few regular customers shuffle in and out of the store every once in a while. Today seemed quite slow, oddly slow.

I decided to head to the storage room to grab a duster to hopefully make the air a little fresher. Considering our shop was relatively small, it shouldn't take long to dust. I bent down to grab the fluffy duster off the bottom shelf, suddenly I heard a scream outside of the shop, causing me to fall back on my ass.

"Shit." I said under my breathe in case there were any customers in the shop who could hear me. After brushing off my light ruffles on my dress, I continued out of the storage room with the duster.

I immediately dropped the pink, fluffy duster when I saw the huge mob of women of all ages, mainly mine, outside.

I looked at the alley cat who sneaks in with our customers, who was sitting on the register counter. He simply looked back at me. Silly kitty.

As I looked out the large show window at the front of the shop I saw my own sister, screaming, jumping up and down, and banging on the window. "What could she possibly be here for?!" I said in my head. I used my common sense and went to go lock the entrance of the shop, hoping to keep the insane girls out.

I turned around slowly, still confused. I saw a relatively tall, male customer. I figured he might know what's going on? So I tapped on his shoulder lightly, but just enough so he would turn around.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Hm?- oh, yea sure I'll give you an autograph." He said with an accent like mine as he pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket.

I was taken back a bit to be honest, why would i want an autograph from some random man? "Erm... it's okay. I was wondering if you knew why all those girls were outside my shop?" I asked the tall man.

He sort of stood there looking at me. I raised an eyebrow, motioning him to respond.

We were just staring at each other when he picked the record that was on display in the window. 'Elvis' the record cover read. I looked at the record and back at him.

My mouth was left open. "That's you!" I pointed at the record in disbelief. He just nodded in response.

My ma and daddy were pretty strict parents so I didn't get to listen to all of the newest records, despite working here.

I pointed at the girls outside. "They're here for you?"

"Mhm." He muttered.

"Good thing I locked the door then." I joked.

We shared a laugh.

"This is a pretty nice shop you got here, little miss." Elvis said, looking around at the stocked shelves of records.

"I guess you could say that. I try my best to keep up with the latest artists." I said, ignoring the nickname he gave me.

"I'd say you're doing a pretty good job." He casually winked at me with his right eye.

I felt a little bit flushed but I tried to brush it off. Taking a deep breathe.

"Is there anything i could possibly help you find, it's my job after all." I said as I motioned to the shelves.

"Got any B.B. King?" He asked me.

"Of course!" I slightly scoffed, leading him to section he was looking for.

He slid his fingers along the records slowly. If I'm being honest, it gave me shivers.

The screaming of the women came to a slow muttering of them all, as we had gone out of few of the windows. They were probably wondering were there 'boyfriend' went.

"You're from around here? I can tell. You have a nice strong accent there." I said trying to keep from awkward silence.

"Yes ma'am, born and raised." He looked at me and smiled with a cute crooked smile. I grinned back.

He grabbed a record by B.B. King, and brought it over to the register counter. The screaming started again.

"This has to get annoying?!" I said over the loud voices.

"I'm honestly honoured I'm worth there time!" He said placing the record on the counter gently.

I put in the record number into the bulky machine.

*beep beep beep*

"It's on the house." I smiled, handing the record to him. "Obviously."

He looked at me with his icy eyes. "No, darling i gots to pay." He gave me pleading eyes.

I crossed my arms over my sweetheart neckline on my dress, signalling he won't be paying today.

"I'll make you a deal." He said.

I furrowed my eyebrows in curiosity of what he was going to say next.

"I won't pay... if you let me take you out sometime?" He gave me a smirk.

But it was an oddly sweet one. Not the like the boys at my school give me when they flip up my dresses bottom half, laughing.

"Alrighty, but how will I contact you? Obviously you're pretty popular around these parts." I said gesturing to the crowd outside, luckily the screaming has died down.

He gently grabbed my hand and took his 'autograph pen' out of his pocket again. He wrote his phone number in messy writing on the palm of my hand. He slowly lifted my hand up to his mouth and gave it a gentle kiss.

I giggled. Like, I actually giggled like an idiot.

"Call me." He winked giving me a cheeky smile.

He began to walk out the door. "Wait! You forgot B.B. King!" I shouted over the crowd obsessing over him.

"I don't need it! I got what I wanted!" He blew me a gentle kiss, walking out the door and into a pink Cadillac.

"Oh boy... where is this going to go?" I thought to myself watching the crowd follow the pink car down the street.

Right, right, back to the dusting.