Your Backstage Pass :)

Backstage Pass

 As soon as the show was over you ran back toward the back of the stage door and hoped and prayed you would be the first. You wanted to get there as early as possible before the other girls came swarming by, just to live out your hope of getting to talk to Elvis Presley alone. A guard came to the door and peeked his head out. "Just you?" You nodded with a smile. He stepped back and opened the door wider, allowing you in. Normally, the girls your age would all flock to the front of the stage after the show, pining to get a kiss from Elvis before he left stage. Thanks to your aunt who worked the box office for the show, you now had the inside scoop that Elvis would never turn down a fan or two he'd meet backstage. It was almost too easy and the thought of him refusing to see you kept creeping inside your mind. "He's right over here, Miss." The guard led you back to a dressing room door and knocked on it. "Elvis, you have a young lady out here waiting to see you." Your heart raced faster and faster as you waited for the door to open. "What if he doesn't like me," you spoke out loud to the guard in a daze. "I'm not as pretty as the girls he's probably used to dating." You looked up at the guard and realizing his confused expression quickly broke eye contact with him. This moment was just so thrilling. With the amount of uncontrollable excitement mixed with anxiety in your heart, you thought you may faint right on the spot. Just then the door creaked open and a beautiful, young face smiled at you. The butterflies in your stomach seemed to be just as excited as you were. "Sorry it took me so long," Elvis apologized. "I was just changing back into my street clothes." Elvis, never once breaking eye contact with you reached out his hand to you softly. "Hi honey. Im Elvis Presley."  His extended arm remained untouched as you could not build the confidence to reach out and grab a hold of it. With a giggle, he took the liberty of lifting your hand himself and placing it in his. "Don't be nervous honey, I won't bite." Feeling a bit more at ease you smiled, giving his hand a small squeeze. "I-I know who you are." Elvis walked over to be closer to your side and put his arm around your waist. "Sydney, make sure you lock the door for the night. I want to spend some time with..." he trailed off and you realized you had never told him your name. "Alice," you managed to squeak out. "Alice," he repeated. With a nod, the guard walked away from the two of you to close up for the night. "Don't worry," Elvis assured, "When you want to leave Syd can unlock the door again. But if we left it unlocked, a whole swarm of gals would be in here and our time wouldn't be as special." He sounded so genuine and pure. The way he spoke to you made you feel as if nothing else in the world mattered. Just you and him together. Alone. Finally. Just as you wished it. 

"Would you like to come sit down with me?" Elvis gestured over to the dressing room door, still propped open. Looking at him, knowing the blood rushing to your cheeks had made you red as a cherry, you nodded. He led you in to his dressing room and helped you over to sit in one of the two green leather chairs in the corner. You noticed he left the door open as he took a seat in the remaining seat next to yours. You could not believe that you were sitting with Elvis Presley in his private dressing room. This kind of luck was something that you had never experienced before. "So, Alice tell me about yourself. What kind of things should I know about pretty little things like you," Elvis joked, devoting his full attention to you. "Well," you started shyly, "Im such a big fan of yours Mr. Presley. I run a local fan club and I just love-" "No no," he interrupted. "With all due respect baby, I want to hear about you. I know that you are a fan, and I appreciate that more than you know. But I invited you back here because I want to know about Alice, not the Elvis fan. Do you see what I mean?" Your heart felt as if it had melted. You thought about how often he must hear these words and you understood that maybe he had felt programmed to them by now. He wanted to talk with you person to person. Not celebrity to fan. You now knew that this moment was even more special than you thought before. "Okay." You restarted. "My name is Alice McCormick and I'm a junior in high school." Elvis sat back in his chair with a smile. "I work at a local record store on the weekends, and um, oh I dance too! Ive been a dancer for 12 years now. My mother signed me up when I was 5 and I just fell in love with it! I even participate in some competitions and won my first award last summer." Wow!" Elvis exclaimed, "Now thats something to be proud of. What kind of dancing do you do?" "Mostly ballet and tap, but I recently just started to learn some modern. I like all different kinds!" "You know," Elvis got up out of the chair and walked over to his vanity to reach for his comb. "Lots of people seem to have a problem with the way I dance," he laughed, brushing his dark black hair back in place. "Cant seem to figure why. The way I see it, the way you move is just a reflection of what you feel inside. The music moves you, not the other way around. It comes from the soul... I think." "Oh I agree completely," you chimed in. "I admire the way you perform Mr. Presley. Your true fans can see the passion you have for what you do." Elvis, first putting his comb in the back pocket of his trousers, walked over to you and reached for your hand. Taking it, he tugged you up to your feet, now the two of you were inches away from each other. "Please, call me Elvis," he insisted. "Alright," you whispered softly. "Come here." Elvis took you by the hand and led you out to the stage which was now empty, quiet, and still. There was one singular stage light on for the custodians who were just finishing up sweeping the stage. Walking out onto the empty stage, hand still in yours, Elvis spun you around to face him. "Show me," he said boldly. You laughed, "Show you what?" "Show me how to dance, silly! I want a lesson from the expert." He took a step back and bending at the waist, bowed dramatically in front of you. "Im no expert," you responded, stifling giggles caused by his goofy and down to earth personality. He looked at you and winked, "I insist. My first experience in the professional world of dance must come from the prettiest girl around." You looked at your feet as you blushed. "Okay then," you shifted the subject to cover your awkwardness. "Lets practice the positions." Elvis raised his eyebrows at you and laughed. "Not like that you goof ball!" You were laughing so hard you could barely see straight. "Like this." You placed your heals together in the first position, fixed your posture and raised your hands above your head in the ever so iconic ballet circle. "This is called first position. You usually practice this during barre. I think its the easiest one. You just stand up straight, tuck your tummy, put your feet together and raise your arms gracefully." Looking over to see how Elvis was holding up, you couldn't help but burst out in laughter. With his rear end stuck out like a duck, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth, and his balance becoming more unstable by the second, you could see he thought it was much harder than it looked. "It takes real talent to be able to do this stuff!", he exclaimed before finally falling to the floor. "And you said this was easy!" Holding your stomach, sore from all the laughing, you plopped down on the floor right next to him. "You'll just have to practice some more," you giggled, trying to catch your breath. "Maybe ballet will never be my forte." Elvis brushed the hair out of his eyes and looked to face you. "Never say never Elvis! You seem to have a talent for a lot of things." All of a sudden the room became quiet again as the two of you still faced each other. The eye contact and chemistry between you was almost too much to handle. As Elvis leaned in to you, the sense of awkwardness that was present in you before, returned with even more power. You quickly jumped up and smoothed down your white dress. With your hands clasped behind your back, you slowly made your way to the other side of the stage. It was strange, there was nothing you wanted more than to be here with Elvis, but the fact that you still had never had your first real boyfriend let alone first kiss, made you wonder if Elvis could tell. You worried he would see you as a baby, just a young fan like all the other girls. You heard Elvis get up and walk toward you. "I think," he said breaking the silence, "Its only fair if we leave this dancing lesson on a good note. You know, doing something I know how to do. Make me feel good about myself after that," he giggled. You turned around and smiled. "Okay, what would you like to do?" Saying nothing, Elvis walked over to you, standing in front of you with only a few inches between you. He took your hand and gently put it on his shoulder. He then put his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. With his free hand, he held onto your free hand and began to slowly sway back and forth with you safely in his arms. As you laid your head on his chest, the scent of cinnamon mixed with hints of vanilla gently sank into your senses. It seemed as though you and Elvis could stay in this moment forever and you would still believe you lived a fulfilled life. Swaying slowly in his arms, you felt Elvis bring his head up to your cheek as he gently kissed your cheek. 

The two of you danced in the silence for what seemed like hours before your sudden realization that it must be late. "My parents might be getting worried about me," you whispered regretfully. "Oh, okay baby. I'll walk you to the door." With his arm around your waist, you and Elvis walked as slow as you could toward the door you came in a while ago. As you approached the door, Elvis turned you to face him once more. "When can I see you again Alice? I mean- I just really enjoyed your company tonight. You're fun to be around and I... I like you a lot." Hoping you would get to hear those words from him before you left you smiled brightly. "Here," you said, pulling out a piece of paper and a pencil you scribbled your phone number down and stuck it in his pocket. "Call me anytime." He smiled softly and dropped his head almost in embarrassment, just as you did when you first saw him. You gave him a tiny peck on the cheek and then quickly opened the door to leave. Just before you stepped out, you turned back to face him. "Promise you'll call?" "You have my word, baby."