Elvis Presley Imagines

Long black limousine

Elvis is not famous

'Mornin' mama.' Elvis kisses beautiful Gladys on the cheek as he sat down at the wooden table. Breakfast was laid out, a feast for Elvis; breakfast muffins, eggs, meat and more. Vernon sat reading the paper in a chair, scratching his ear softly and studying the printed words. Elvis tucked in heartily, pushing his messy morning hair back into its usual quiff as he ate, listening to Gladys sing along to the crackly radio gorgeously sounding just like a songbird.

It reminded him of you and he grinned softly,... sadly. There wasn't a moment you didn't cross his mind, every minute and every day. He wondered what you were up to at this moment ,although he knew you would probably be swooped up into the arms of your new lover. Blinking his diamond blue eyes he bitterly wished it was him in your arms, just like you once had promised it would be.

As if a coincidence, your sweet melody echoed through his radio, making his heart jolt from his body. He paused, barely swallowing his food, staring down at the uneven patterns of the table, Gladys and Vernon looked up aware of the feelings for you after all these years. With a small 'click' the tiny dining room was left in silence and Gladys pushed the radio underneath the cupboard whilst biting her rosy lip nervously.

"Elvis?" She probed gently, putting her delicate hands on his broad shoulders, making him jolt in surprise. His gelled raven locks fell across his eyes as he turned to look at her, sighing quietly and patting her hands in return. Vernon watched over his paper, studying his boy.

"She's making a livin' for herself son, and she's happy. That should be enough for you, if you truly love her." Vernon spoke lowly, nodding curtly at his son across the table. Deflating in the chair it took all of his strength to muster up one word.

"Yeh." Elvis mumbles,  face setting in stone as the food stays uneaten on his plate.

A knock on the door alerts the little family and Gladys brushes her hands down her patterned apron before opening the door cautiously. It opens to reveal a sullen looking Red West, with smart dark hair and a red fitted jacket. His eyes are puffy and cheeks stained a light shade of pink, unusual for the tough man.

Coughing he clears his throat. "Is Elvis in?" He asks quietly as Elvis, upon hearing this, stands up from the table, pads though the hall and stands behind his mama, Red staring him gravely in the eyes. "What's goin' on Red?" He asks quickly, scanning his friends crestfallen face knowing immediately something was wrong. Elvis rests his tanned hand on Gladys's shoulder protectively and she grabs a hold of it tightly.

Not knowing how to say it, Red hesitates unknowingly and stares into the worried eyes of his best friend. "She's gone E. Y/N died last night." He whispers, choking on his words.

Elvis shakes his head quickly, not processing anything that's going on, the world beginning to spin and crush down upon him. Gladys gasps in shock, sweet tears already sliding down her plump cheeks as her sons grasp detaches from hers.

Sweating and gasping desperately for air, he gathers all  physical energy to stutter the god forbidden words he never wanted to hear. "How?" Elvis cries out, dizzy- grabbing a hold of the door to keep him upright. Somehow amidst this commotion, Vernon has heard the news, rubbing his sons back in sympathy trying to help but Elvis is too emotional to notice anyone.

No one wants to tell him how the love of his life had died so suddenly, so young and with so much to live for. "TELL ME!" He screams out brokenly, his voice breaking and tears cascading freely from his beautiful blue eyes. Red struggles to talk, watching a part of Elvis die through this god forbidden doorway. Watching on, he sees Elvis aggressively force his way through Vernon's grip and past Gladys until his large fingers are wrapped around Red's neck, pressing him harshly against the shabby brick wall. The skin becomes tight around Red's neck as Elvis's loving eyes held nothing but anger and resentment.