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Rosalie POV (Sal)
A delighted tune filled me with warmth as the Cadillac's stereo sound filled the car. Elvis's record A Fool Such As I had taken over the calm chirping of birds and blowing wind in no man's land.
I was resting my knees against the surface over the open glove department. Once again, with tapes covering my lap. This time though, it wasn't a mess. In Elvis's seat, there were three thin but rather long boxes. Inside there were neatly placed Cassettes.
I had spent maybe an hour or two in his car, just listening to Elvis's records while trying to find some sort of system for his chaos cassette collection. The glove compartment looked a lot better, as there was already a thin box filled with just Elvis's songs in place. The rest of them would neatly slide in next to it. One box after the other, I found their home. As the last cassette slid into the packed box, I calmly closed the glove compartment lid. Keeping one box in my lap, I went through a couple of songs before deciding on one.
Resting my head, it felt like I was floating timelessly in the oasis of the dark-haired Rock'n roller's round but crisp voice. Disappearing into a land of calm tunes and slight wind from the open car door, I fell asleep.
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Elvis's POV
The clock had passed 1 PM by the time my groggy ass was ready to come back to life. My mind was at ease, and even if I searched for it, my mind wasn't wrapped around my usual worries. Air filled my lungs without the anxious thought of having to run from one thing to the other.
I was just being me, and it felt great. All thanks to Sal. A total stranger before this summer, hell, even a few days ago. Getting dressed, I looked closely in the mirror. A slight stubble ensembled across my chin. I could not remember the last time I'd let that happen. I chuckled, shaking my head with a grin.
My navy blue tee hugged my upper body loosely as I made my way downstairs—Making each step faster than the other, with eyes looking out for Sal.
«Sal!» I called for her while making my way to the kitchen. Thinking I would find her making another failed sandwich to my standards, I was almost already at the point of laughing.
Entering the kitchen made me puzzled. She wasn't there.
Sal's kitchen had very light counters with dark wooden countertops. They surrounded the broad kitchen island we had shared every meal by. Windows cast sunlight diagonally, with tiny dots of dust floating calmy. It was clear Sal had not been in here in a while this morning—if at all.
I wandered aimlessly through the mansion, up and down the stairs, but she just wasn't there.
To the left of the house, there was a single glass door draped with white iron crosses. Making my eyes squint, I tried to spot her down by the lake. Other than light fog dancing over the still water, there was nothing there. It was like she had disappeared into thin air. It left me worried, no scratch that, more than worried, actually.
For a second, I caught myself thinking maybe the press had found us, and that she was taken somewhere. Put on question about where I was, as I had run off from the set of Love Me Tender. I knew it was a wild thought, but wilder things had happened to me before—Fans tearing off my pants to get a piece of me. Usually, I was happy to share, with both kisses and autographs. I was nothing without my wonderful fans. I even thought I had gotten addicted, as I wasn't able to control myself around them—probably how I ended up getting to know Sal.
This time though, I didn't want my fame to interfere with Sal. She was no longer just the fierce girl from that insane proposal spectacle. She was... Well, I didn't quite know what I thought of her, but I did know that I liked being around her. She treated me as the annoying sonofabitch I truly was sometimes, not afraid to throw me some word punches. Then other times—she was sweet, funny, and a perfect fit for my mad mind.
She had a hold on me and wasn't even really a part of my life. At the same time, these days, she was the one that held my life together.
Get it together, Elvis. You're supposed to be somewhere. Sal couldn't change that, not really. This wasn't real.
I could feel my mind wandering off to my commitments—My manager, the Colonel, my dad, and the director, who would be furious. More than ever, the lack of Sal transported me back to Memphis and California. Traveling fast, days and nights without a second of sleep, my worrying poor mama and June left somewhere to wait for me. Rumors had surfaced of me kissing Debra within three days of the production of my first motion picture, and June questioned me about it. I could admit the thought of her beauty had crossed my mind, but my costar wasn't even available.
Headlines calling me the worst kinds of things broke me. While the people who loved me made me feel infatuated, the hate left me miserable. Misunderstood. It was so far-fetched that I sometimes even questioned myself. What did I do wrong? Were I those things they said about me? The noise sometimes just got so loud.
The public wanted me to be available, but the next day I was judged by how many girls they'd seen me with. Yeah, I had a lot of girls from time to time, but it wasn't anything serious. Mostly it was conversations, maybe a kiss or two. I did not get into bed with just anyone. Fans just wanted a piece of me, and I gave it to them. Then again, I was all caught up in June, and since earlier this spring, she was all that was on my mind—making me cool it off with my previous girl, Barbara. The only thing distracting me was my career. It had to come first. I felt high on stage and low when I missed the rush of a screaming crowd. More importantly, though, I never wanted to risk my parents having nothing again. I had to keep growing.
This was why I had to listen to the Colonel. I had to cool off my romance for a while with June as well, at least in the public's eye, and this was what ticked June off. I couldn't blame her, but I just wished she would support me through this and wait for me. I knew I wasn't the trustworthy kind, but in the end I wanted June to be at the end of the road. The alter—When I finally could marry.
Storming out the door, panicked and angry, I looked straight ahead. In the corner of my eye, my Cadillac came into view.
With no sight of Sal, my mind went blank. Had she left me? Gone back to Madison? I could feel an ache in my heart growing. I had a lot of problems with trusting people. I never knew if someone wanted to be around me for me or if they expected something from me in return for their friendship. It drove me out of my mind usually, but Sal had just sort of gotten my trust too quickly for my own good. Could I honestly trust her with everything I'd told her? Oh Lord, maybe she had gone to the press?
Getting a move on, I was determined to find her or get away. I had stayed too long and Sal really had nothin' to do with me. Each step drove me closer to the car as I anxiously rushed my hands through my hair. I came to a halt when I spotted the top of Sal's head—all beautiful dark curls.
Was she sitting in my car?
Patting down my pockets, I remembered. Sal had to have stolen my keys... or rather borrowed my keys. I had left them just inside the entrance to the mansion. As I saw her, I had mixed feelings after my minor breakdown. I was still here with her, but my mind was at home with the Colonel.
Carefully I walked up to the car, gazing inside to find her dazed off. Her car door was opened slightly to let in fresh air so she wouldn't get burned up by the heat.
Softly I opened the door with a very steady hand. Getting in behind the wheel, my eyes landed on her and her knees up against the glove department. White noise came from my stereo from having no more tape to play, and there was a box filled with my cassettes in her lap. All organized.
Something fluttered inside of me. It grew like a warm fire on a late winter night. Her eyes were closed, and I hadn't had a chance to admire her like this before. She had a tiny cute nose, and sweet rose-colored lips that simply stated were beautiful. For a second, I couldn't think of anything else.
Her petite frame, dressed in a light blue dress, looked so peaceful. As peaceful as I had felt these last few days.
God, she had done this for me. She had gone out here alone to take care of something I had never even thought of. She thought of me. A loving smile reached my lips as I reached for her, cupping her cheek gently.
I could trust her; I knew that now. She would have never cared enough to do this if she wasn't some sort of loyal to me.
As her eyes opened, I chuckled.
«Hi, sleepy head,» I said, not taking my eyes off her.
«Mhm..» she mumbled, a slight gap appearing between her eyelids as she got used to the brightness.
«Let's go somewhere,» I stated, holding my steady smile on her.
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Rosalie POV (Sal)
Sea breeze rushed through our hair as I looked over at Elvis. He had this other type of happiness to him today—almost a wild quality to it. I wondered what had made him suddenly want to risk losing our hidingplace—and be seen by the press.
Elvis caught me looking at him, and with a broad smile, he pointed towards the sea, where a big wave crashed against large rocks all across the shore. Following his wish, I saw the wild at sea, reflecting his way of being today. Free of care, free of any sort of plan, and just going strong on a whim.
With no car in sight and a never-ending road, he gave his Cadillac an extra boost, and I squealed in both excitement and fear.
Elvis laughed and lightly hit the car wheel with one hand to accompany how funny he thought my reaction was. It was unbelievable being around him. Now I could see he was the same boy that got up on that stage.
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We parked behind an old shack in an almost empty parking lot. Heading out, Elvis opened the trunk to show a sizeable beige car cover. Throwing it over the car as swiftly as he possibly could, his very publicized pink vehicle was nowhere to be seen.
It left me impressed, but how could he not be prepared to hide from the public? The thing is, no matter how many things of his he hid, he still looked very much like Elvis. How could he not? Every fiber of him brought on attention.
I caught myself staring, and awfully embarrassingly, he did too. Elvis had his elbow leaning on the top of the roof, supporting his head. While his eyes clearly told me he knew I was looking at him funnily—he smirked.
«What ya lookin' at, baby?» He asked, putting me on the spot with his very seductive ways of talking to me from that first night he met me.
I was mortified.
Elvis lowered his arm and shook his head with a short and hard laugh. «I'm just messin' with ya.» He assured me humorously, noting my reaction and letting me off the hook. He made his way towards me, standing just a few feet behind the car, and put a steady hand on my back—turning me around to lead the way.
«What are we doing here, Elvis?» I questioned him, taking in the long stretches of the beach with giant old, crooked driftwood. It almost looked like they belonged in fantasy land. Taking in the view, my eyes fell on the green and white sign that said «east beach.»
With a silent smirk, his eyes looked very sly.
«Wouldn't you like to know?» He teased, his voice sounding like a clever daredevil.
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Author's note:
Offff, Elvis had quite a troubled mind. He deals with a lot of conflicted emotions, and he can't always control how he thinks. From one moment to the next, it went from bliss to complete chaos. How did he come across to you as readers?
Sal sitting in his car organizing his cassettes was the first scene that came to my mind when I started thinking of how they would spend their summer days together right after writing the first two chapters. It holds a special place in my heart because I find it so endearing of Sal to do.
Now, what do you think Elvis is up to?
The record A Fool such as I was released in 1959, but I had to include it as it was what inspired the mood of the scene.
(Chapter 11/64)
This chapter is edited slightly with Grammarly.
New chapters every week (Tuesday, Friday and Sunday.)
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