Chapter 25 - Should I stay or should I go?

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* chapter music *
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This chapter includes one belonging soundtrack announced farther into the chapter. The chapter is written with this song in mind—setting the mood.

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Elvis POV

The 22nd of January, 1957

«Ma, Daddy.» With eyes going from one parent to the other, my voice roamed the importance of the coming moments. «It might be time to think about moving,» I told them with a calm decisive headspace circulating me, for once, being home for a family dinner—after feeling I hadn't sat still for more than five minutes in the first month of 1957. The familiar scent of meatloaf and mashed potatoes was one I could have been around for six months straight if allowed to. I never stayed in one place for long, though. But when coming home, the need for it to bring on a restful ambiance had become more vital each time. A big part of the strong urge to get away was also to know my parents could go outside without getting swarmed with people—fans, the public, and the press.

I'd been feeling like having an extensive neverending weight weighing down on me, but now, it had finally lifted. We'd been living here for less than a year, but it had been enough time to understand we needed another place to call home—for both my parents, my grandmother Dodger and myself.

«Booby... I... I think that would be nice. Vernon and I... we're doing fine here, but it would be nice to have some privacy once in a while. For all of us. There's always so many in our garden wanting to see ya'. I see you... you're not yourself anymore, son. These last few weeks... it's too much for a young boy to handle. You're exhausting yourself, Elvis.» My Mama's speech went on. «And that horrible Sullivan, filming you from the waist up like... like you're doing some sin just dancin'.»

More and more, I could see my Mama's voice tremble. Feeling like a stab to my heart, I didn't know how to calm hers. «Ma... I'm 22. I can handle this, I promise you. The Colonel knows what he's doing. Look how much he's done for us already?» My thick layered southern accent uttered, demanding my parents' attention with a voice higher than my Mama's—I needed her to believe me.

Throwing himself over and taking my side, my dad's breath was drawn to speak up. «Gladys, The Colonel has done some great work for us. Elvis... Elvis just has a lot to do right now.» My Daddy defended my fully booked schedule, leaning forward in his seat to reach over to lay his palm on my Mama's hand.

«He always has a lot to do, Vernon!» She exclaimed in a hysterical tone of voice—not having it with her husband. «He's even risking getting drafted, having that physical checkup accepted!»

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