I've been receiving come really kind comments regarding the story. Thank you so much! It makes me all warm and fuzzy to know you all like my stories 😊❤
~ ~ ~
I have never been this unprofessional with one of my subjects before. I never made out with them in an upstairs room during a party. I wouldn't put it passed some of my colleagues to do that, but not me! I was abhorred with myself.
Knocking sounded on my bedroom door around seven in the morning. I snuggled up in my blankets, not wanting to go anywhere. The knocking came again.
"Rebecca? Sweetie, are you okay?" The door opened, and the light from the hallway flooded into the dark room. I faced the brightness, but I had my blankets covering my face. "Hey. Are you awake?"
"If I wasn't before, I am now," I mumbled into the blanket. I felt my kind and compassionate roommate sit on the edge of the bed and put a hand on my shoulder over the blankets.
"Are you not going to work today?" she asked.
"I'm too mortified and embarrassed to go anywhere after what happened last night."
She was silent for a moment, then said, "It's not a bad thing to let your guard down."
"It is when that hot star with sideburns is involved." I flung the covers off and sat up. I moved my still-straight hair out of my face. "I didn't want to give in to him, but I did after he sang that song. It hit me so hard as he sang it that I was meant to come here. Why me, huh?!"
Even in the dim lighting, I could see her gentle, understanding expression. Her hair and makeup weren't done since that would be done on the set, but she was fully clothed in a purple blouse and white pants. "Maybe you were the only one who could change him. He wants to change because of you. He even let go of the women in his life for you. Priscilla and others probably tried to talk sense into him, but you... he listened to you. You had the power since he's so in love with you, it probably scares him."
I thought about that for a moment. "Maybe you're right, but I gave in to his advances and those beautiful blue eyes and that sexy voice..." I flung the covers over my head and lay back down. "No, I'm not going anywhere that he is."
"Then how are you supposed to get your story done?"
"I have enough information to go on."
"You're not the type of person to back away or give up. You put yourself in a movie just so you could get a story."
She had a point, and I didn't like that she did. I was always told that I was determined, and I never liked walking away from something before finishing it, especially when it had to do with work. "Thanks, but I don't want to face him. He's going to want to talk."
"Then talk with him. You are both adults, not children in grade school."
"But he's going to tell me that he won this, that he successfully made me give in to his charms and, well, pretty much everything about him. I really don't want to be infatuated with that guy or be involved with him."
"Just talk about it, okay?"
"What if I tell him I don't want to be in a relationship, but he goes around and says..." I faked his voice, "'Well, why did you kiss me like you did if you didn't wanna start somethin', huh?'"
"Just tell him the truth. Reveal your feelings but say that you don't want to start something. Elvis is a good man. He'll understand."
He was a very relentless and persistent one as well. "Psht. Like he understood the past times he's tried to jump down my throat about the subject? No way. I'll just call Gene and tell him I won't be able to make it."
"But they're doing the Paradise song sequence, and you're playing the woman who says something to Elvis's character after he sings in the prison. And they're doing the tambourine song sequence. You need to be there since you play one of the women."
I knew that, and I hated it. I groaned.
"Just go. I'm going to be on the set, too, since they're filming some scenes with the princess in them. I'll be your moral support." She rubbed my shoulder. "Okay?"
The reality of it was, I would have to face Elvis at some point, if I didn't suddenly go home. Something told me that I wouldn't be going home any time soon. Hopefully. I liked it in the 60s far too much. If I had extra time, I would go find my family.
I sat up again out of the covers and faced my pretty roommate. "Okay, okay, I'll go. But I'm not going to like it."
"Oh, I think you'll like it. Every woman wants to be around the man she loves."
I didn't respond to that as she was grinning at me. I got out of bed and got ready, mainly showering since Gene liked having my hair in its natural wave for the movie. I knew I would regret going to the set, but Mary Ann was right—I never backed down. I would face Elvis like the strong-headed, determined woman that I was.
~ ~ ~
My heart pounded, hard, as Mary Ann and I entered the studio. People were bustling about, even though it was only 7:45 in the morning. I prayed that I would only see Elvis on the set when we had to be in character, and we wouldn't have time to talk. I would do the scene, then leave and work on my article back in the apartment.
"I'll see you later, okay?" Mary Ann said, and she headed down a hallway after a little side-hug. Unfortunately, I had to walk through the main set to get to my dressing room. As I headed there, I stopped before going through the door that led into the set area.
"Okay, just get this done, okay? If he's out there, just walk on by, don't talk to him." I took a breath of courage as I opened the door, and my heart hammered. I saw the prison set, and... there he was, dressed up in his character's attire. I tried to keep myself hidden behind people and camera stands so he wouldn't see me. I hid behind one for a moment and saw the other door I needed to go to. I hated that my dressing room was in the same hallway as Elvis's.
"Just go," I urged myself, and briskly walked to the door. In my side-vision, I saw Elvis look over at me. "Dang it," I muttered, and only a couple seconds passed before my arm was grabbed, and I was being dragged to that door and through it.
"Elvis, let me go!" I demanded as he cantered down the hallway with me. I tried to loosen his hold on my arm, but to no avail. "Let go!'
He opened another door, and this one had his name on it. We came in, and he let me go and faced me, his gaze hard. I went for the door, but he blocked my way before I could escape. My heart was banging my ribcage, making me hear it in my ears, and heat encumbered my whole face.
"I'm not gonna let you outta here until we talk, okay?"
"I have to get ready for the shot. Dang it, Elvis, don't do this right now! Stop being impulsive!"
He smirked in a disbelieving way. "You're askin' me not to act impulsive? Who's the woman who ran away after what happened last night, huh?" He took a step up to me, and his gaze softened, pleading with me. "Please just tell me straight out, okay? Why'd you run?"
Those sad, blue puppy-dog eyes were making this difficult. My mind reminded me of what Mary Ann told me earlier. Maybe it was time to just let my guard down. "Okay. Fine. What you're thinking is correct."
"I wanna hear it from those nice lips of yours."
He just had to mention my lips. "Well... I ran away from you because I don't want to start something, yet..."
He took another step up to me, and I could smell his limb-weakening cologne. His very blue, beautiful eyes weren't helping anything, either. "Yeah?"
I really didn't want to be doing this, but I had already gone too far. I made out with this man the night before, and I had to suffer the consequences. "Yes. I love you, but I don't want to. You happy?"
Those lips of his stretched into a smirk. "It's nice to hear it from you. And I think the 'don't wanting' part will change."
"I just want to focus on my job, and that includes acting as an extra. Now, I have to go so I can get ready for the scene."
I passed him to the door, and thankfully, he didn't stop me. "Rebecca," he said, but I didn't turn around as I had my hand on the doorknob. "I love you, too. I really hope you'll change your mind about not wantin' to start somethin'. I'll leave ya alone until then. Just don't keep me waitin' until you bounce back to your time."
Regardless of who said it, when and where, hearing a man tell you that he loves you is an incredible feeling. "I have to get changed."
I left the room and made it to my dressing room down the hallway. It was nice of him to finally leave me alone about the whole situation, but... admittedly... it would be difficult to be around him since I would be pulled towards him like a magnet and I would resist.
~ ~ ~
Those soulful eyes remained aimed in my direction constantly as Gene was instructing everyone on what to do for this scene. I was one of the dancing women who were brought into the prison along with Elvis's character and the thief and company. Would it kill him to look away from me?
"You got it," he said to Gene, and Gene went and stood behind a camera. We all got into our positions, and Elvis sat at the window of this fake prison. He was looking out the window, but I knew exactly what was on his mind.
"Alright, ready on the set!" Gene shouted, and the lights went dim. "And... action!"
The music started playing over speakers, and then came Elvis's stong, passionate vocals.
Every single lyric applied to what Elvis and I were going through. My part came to get up and say my line, and when I did, our gazes locked, and I knew he was silently telling me, "This song was for you."
"If the princess ignores your song of love, she's without a heart."
The loving look he gave me as he brought out his hand and petted my head... I wanted to melt. I never thought a man would look at me like that again.
"Cut!" Gene shouted, and I stepped away from Elvis and back more into the room. "Elvis, that was great, as far as the number, but I didn't want you to touch Rebecca. I think... we'll keep it, though. She's showing sympathy, and Johnny is thankful for her sentiment." He clapped. "Okay, people, let's do it again."
Elvis stayed where he was, but he said my name. I stayed where I was. "Rebecca," he said again, but I still didn't move. I wanted to cry. It was so cheesy, that love song, but the passion that was in it... the fact that he was telling me to come to him... that he cared deeply about me... it was touching.
The scene was redone, and I walked off of the set. Gene stopped me. "Rebecca, I have a question... So, we're doing the tambourine song later today, the scene where we have the dancing girls. Do you think you'll be able to do that with your ankles that are still healing?
I moved around both ankles, and I nodded. "I think I can do it. They don't hurt me at all anymore."
"Well, good! You can leave until we do it around three today."
"Okay, sound like a plan. I'll see you later, then."
"Yes."
I left him, and as I did so on my way to the door leading to my dressing room, Elvis stepped in front of me, and he was still in the head turban. "Hey."
"Hey."
"Look... that song..."
"I know."
"You do?"
"It was obvious, the fact that you sang that song with me in mind."
He smirked. "It's like our brains are connected. Or our hearts."
I rolled my eyes. "That's so incredibly sappy. You've been singing way too many love songs in your lifetime."
He chuckled. "Indeed, I have. So... you're gonna be here later?"
"Yeah, for your tambourine song."
"I see. Your ankles are alright?"
"Yeah, well enough."
His brows creased. "If they're still buggin' ya, don't do the scene. There are other women who can step in for you."
"I told Gene in the beginning that I would play a dancing girl, so that's what I'll do."
That cute smirk was still there. "You honor your word. That admirable."
"You should know that about me at this point. That's why I'm forcing myself to work around you even though I don't want to."
He took a step up to me, this gaze glued to mine. He said in a low tone, "You know you wanna. You told me that you love me."
I pressed my lips together. He was being impulsive again. I pushed his shoulder, and he staggered back. "I thought you didn't want to talk about it."
"Only because you don't want me to."
"Then stop talking right now. Actually, I'm leaving. I'll see you at around three."
"I look forward to it."
I groaned. "You're so infuriating!"
He only laughed at that as I walked away from him. To anyone watching, he and I were flirting. Well, I would keep my head about me if he kept his head about himself. I had to focus on my job.
~ ~ ~
I was informed that we would be rehearsing the dancing, so when I arrived at three, I was put into my outfit, then we came onto the set, and there was choreographer to tell us three women what to do. I folded my arms over my chest, uncomfortable wearing another skimpy outfit, at least on top. The men on the set, like the bystanders, were eyeing me. That included a man with dwarfism that was in the previous scene we worked on. My gaze was on only one man, though, a man who looked hilarious in seafoam-green shiny pants but was still hot at the same time. He caught me eyeing him, and he gave me a smirk, along with a once-over on my outfit with his eyes. His brow lifted, and the look he sent me as our gazes met said, "You're steaming." I looked away.
The man who was teaching us the dance moves twisted his body, and that included his feet. I copied him, as well as the women in green and blue, and I felt the strain in my ankles. Regardless, I practiced on, and we even ran through the whole scene with the music. Elvis recorded all the songs beforehand, and it was up to the director or producer on whether to use that or Elvis's voice and live instrumentals. For this scene, it would be Elvis actually singing, just, in the finished product, his voice and the instrumentals would be amplified. The jail scene was done with just the audio.
"Okay, everyone! Let's do this again! I want a camera on Elvis, one on the girls, and one on Billy, okay?!" Gene shouted into a megaphone. Billy was the short man, who I found out was thirty-eight years old and three-foot-ten.
We all got to that, and, finally, after a few hours of rehearsing, we got to start filming. I just hoped that my feet would pull through. Both of them were aching. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to be one of the dancing women. There was a couple back-ups, but they just made them bystanders.
"And... action!" Gene shouted, and we got to it.
Thankfully, I didn't have to dance a lot. Or more, the camera didn't show me often. It was fun to dance around, though, with my skirt billowing out as I twirled. When the man shouted, "Coppers! Thief!" I twisted a little too hard on one foot and collapsed to the hard ground, and the moment I did, Gene shouted, "Cut!"
I hollered from my foot pulsing with pain and the pain from the impact to the ground.
"Rebecca!" Elvis shouted, and he was the first one to me, and people gathered around me, mainly the other dancing women, and everyone was asking if I was okay, including Elvis. He helped me sit up. "Hey, are you okay?"
I brought my bare foot out, and people gasped around us when they saw that my right ankle and half of my foot was starting to turn blue. "Oh, boy..." I muttered, then winced. "Ow..."
"Where's the medic?!" Elvis yelled to everyone, and I saw Gene get into the picture. When he saw what was going on, he ordered, "Well, let's get her off of the set and to the hospital! Rebecca, you should've said no."
I gave him a dirty look, knowing very well that I should've, and before anyone could do or say anything, Elvis whisked me up into his arms without much effort. "Just hang on, okay?" he said as both of my arms were around his neck.
"I don't have much of a choice," I said, eyeing his face as he walked me through the people, and the three men I recognized as the medical team, since I thought I would need them at some point, followed us off the set as Elvis sat me in a chair. He backed away as the men assessed my foot.
"It's a break for sure," he said, then looked up at me with large brown eyes. I would blush in embarrassment as this rather good-looking brunette was staring at me, bewildered, if I wasn't in pain and the man I loved was watching, too. "Miss, you really shouldn't have been on it."
"I get that now," I snapped. "Sorry, this just really hurts..."
That last bit came out in a whine since my whole foot was throbbing in pain. Elvis came closer, a sad look in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Rebecca."
"Why are you sorry?"
"Because you're hurtin', and I can't do much about it."
Aww... We held that gaze for a moment, and in that instant, I wanted nothing more than to have him hold me in his arms and comfort me as the ambulance was on its way. Someone already called for one.
A minute passed, and Mary Ann came rushing up to me as she was clad in her princess attire. Instant shock and sadness came to every feature of her pretty face when she saw me sitting there, and the medic was holding my colorful foot as he was ordering the other medic to hurry up with the cast wrap. "Oh, no, Rebecca!"
"I'll live, Mary Ann. It just hurts. Bad."
"Elvis, you're needed back on the set!" some man shouted, and Elvis let out a sigh in frustration. He really didn't want to go anywhere aside from near me. He came up to me, leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. He said near my face, and I could smell his cologne and hair product, "I'll come see ya at the hospital, okay?"
Everyone around saw this sweet moment between us, and no doubt, rumors would fly. Well, they wouldn't be wrong. I nodded to what he said. "Okay."
He reluctantly left me, and after about fifteen minutes of Mary Ann holding my hand since my foot hurt and I needed some kind of comfort, I was taken to the hospital. Only this time, it wasn't by that star. I wished it was.