Right in the middle of filming King Creole, 23-year-old Elvis Presley finds himself waking up in the year 2021 in a small country town. He finds out how the world has evolved since the 50s, and with the help of a beautiful blonde woman named Hannah...
We made it to the hotel when the sun was completely gone. We stopped at Wendy's to pick up some dinner to take back to the hotel. I had Elvis make the order, and when we came up to the drive-through window to pay, and the girl there saw him sitting there in the passengers seat, she gasped.
"Hi, there," Elvis had greeted her as her fair skin filled with crimson, and he leaned forward in the passenger's seat so the girl could see him better.
"H-hi! Oh my God, you're The Living Elvis!" She turned and shouted, "Hey, The Living Elvis is here!"
Several younger people came up to the window and they all went nuts with exclaiming how much they loved him and his videos, and commented on his latest one. We left the drive-through, came around to the front and went inside. Elvis suddenly became surrounded by the excited young adult workers in the restaurant, even the managers who always told the workers to be professional when someone famous comes through. I would know that after the years I worked in fast food to pay for school. They all went crazy over Elvis, and some of them believed he was him.
I laughed, and Elvis looked over at me as we headed to our suites on the second level to this cute hotel that had a pretty courtyard in the center of it, our bags in our hands, and Elvis had his guitar. Our rooms were facing the courtyard.
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"What's so funny?" he asked.
"Nothing, nothing. I'm just thinking about Wendy's."
He smirked. "That was a lot of fun, wasn't it?"
"I told you you would get back to your normal life where being recognized and hounded is concerned. You were a celebrity before you revealed yourself to the world, and now, you're even more so. You're the celebrity you're supposed to be, not a fake one."
"A fake one? How do ya mean?"
"I mean, The Living Elvis is fake. You're the Elvis."
"I suppose here, I can have both titles. The people who believe I'm me can call me Elvis, and the people who don't can call me The Living Elvis. I can go by both."
I nodded. "Whatever you want to do. But to me, you're the Elvis, nothing else."
We came to the doors, which were red like the ones at the last hotel we visited. This had a similar structure to the hotel in Kalama also. I did that on purpose. The rooms were even connected like the one in Kalama as well - Elvis and I had adjoining rooms.
"Well, goodnight," I said to him.
"Goodnight, Hannah, and thank you so much again for doin' this for me, for drivin' all the way here to San Francisco so I can meet my family."
The soft look in his eyes was making my pulse rise. "It's really no problem. I'm just glad that we're here, safe, and that you're not so rattled with nerves anymore."
"Oh, I am. I'm gonna be up all night figurin' out what I'm gonna say to 'em tomorrow. If they've seen my video and the news today, they know I'm me. I just need to figure out how I'm gonna apologize for what they've gone through on account of me... the other me who's passed but is still me."
