𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

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"I've had many life changing moments." Elvis says. "But that night changed the whole trajectory of my life, for plenty reason."

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛
📍LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
The International Hotel
LOUNGE
·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·

"TO SHILOH & SONS!!"

The music was loud, the drugs were hard, and the liquor was cold.

Their glasses clinked together in celebration before they all dumped back the shots, wincing ever so slightly at the sting of tequila.

They had ended up watching Elvis perform from the wings just like he did for them...and it was an experience semi-similar to his.

Well, at least for Shiloh.

There were times when he'd thrust his hips a certain way and make eye contact with her in the wings while letting out a provocative grunt that somehow went with the flow of the song.

She wants to hear it in a different setting.

Immediately after the show ended, the band rushed to their suite to change before the lounge, ready to party.

Shiloh let out an enthused drunken yell, raising the empty glass in the air before slamming it back down on the table in front of them.

"I'm getting more shots!" she announced giddily before stumbling towards the bar that was a couple of feet away.

She passed through the crowd, grabbing a glass of alcohol from one person and chugging it before shoving it in the hands of a waiter.

When she made it to the bar, she slammed her arms down on the counter and leant against it to hold herself upright. "Another round, pretty please."

The bartender looked at her in uncertainty. "Wouldn't this be the third? How old even are you?"

"You're getting paid to serve, not to ask questions." she snapped her fingers at him sassily. "Chop chop, bozo."

The bartender sent her a small glare before doing what he was told.

Elvis and the Mafia sat only a couple of feet away from the band in their own section of the lounge having sober fun.

To be honest, he was getting antsy and bored — this was his first party since leaving the rockstar lifestyle behind him...but when he saw Shiloh get up and strut towards the bar, there was an opening.

Just as he was getting up, an arm grabbed him.

"Don't do somethin' stupid." Jerry warns with a risen brow.

"I ain't!" he defended himself before pulling himself from his friend's grasp and beelining for the girl.

When he got close enough, he tried to keep his eyes focused on the back of her head and not focused on how the tiny light-washed jean shorts that she was wearing showed off a chunk of asscheek, especially since she was leaning over on the counter and her butt was naturally arched out.

What's up with this girl and showing off her asscheeks?

When he arrived, she didn't even notice his presence — not even when he leant one of his arms beside hers.

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