✨King of 2024✨

~The Man~

(A little author's note: This obviously isn't real, but I recently went to Graceland and I needed something to cope. Not a good writer so yeah read with caution 🥰)

"Lil Mama, I need help."

This was not how Sarah thought her day was gonna go. A peculiar man knocking on her apartment door late at night. To her wonderful surprise once she opened that door she knew something was wrong. A man looking so similar to Elvis Fucking Presley, like early 70s Elvis Presley. Now normally she wouldn't let just anyone in her apartment especially at this late hour but something about this dude was special. So now he sits on her couch, his black hair a mess and his blue eyes looking everywhere frantically.

"Sir, do you need me to call someone for you?" Sarah questions, taking a seat next to the men, holding out a glass of water. He takes it with his shakey hands and immediately places it on the coffee table.

"I-I- Call my daddy!" Sarah takes out her iPhone, unlocking it before she hands it to the man.

"What is this?" The man stares down at it like a bomb about to go off.

"It's a phone." Sarah pauses, looking at the Man trembling on her couch. His southern accent was eerily similar to Elvis Presley's as well.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking. What year do you think it is?"

"1976...why?"

"And your name"

"Well Lil Mama, I'm Elvis Presley."

"Fuck me."

"Sir, not that I doubt you. But Elvis Presley is dead, he's been dead for like 47 years, since 1977. It's 2024" The man's or Elvis's eyes turn to one of high distress, his tan skin going pale. Elvis shakes his head "That ain't funny, Miss."

"Umm. Mr. Presley, I know this might be a-"

"I need to talk to Daddy or Priscilla. I need to go back to Graceland."

"Okay, shhhh. Take a deep breath." Sarah slowly reaches over, rubbing Elvis's back in comfort. His breath becomes uneven and his chest feels like it's going to explode.

"NO! GRACELAND! I NEED TO GO HOME!"

"Mr. Presley, I know you're having a panic attack but it's so late and I have neighbors, please take the shouting to a minimum." Sarah's brown eyes meet Elvis's blues and she gives him a tiny smile. Taking a few breaths, Elvis sighs out, pushing his hand through his hair.

"I-I-I'm sorry, Lil Mama..Is this a dream?" Elvis questions, his body leaning into her from exhaustion.

"I don't think so...I mean I can't believe it either. The King of Rock and Roll in my apartment. Truly an honor." Sarah says, still rubbing circles on the man's back.

"So, I died in 1977...What about Daddy? Dodger? Priscilla? Ginger?"

"Do you really want me to tell you? Right now." Sarah says with uncertainty. She really didn't want to tell this man anything about his life or his loved ones. She still wasn't sure if she was dreaming herself.

"Please, Miss."

"Ok, ok, no need to beg." She tries to joke, but it falls flat.

"Your Daddy passed two years after you, Dodger three years after you. Priscilla and Ginger are still alive."

"And Lisa Marie." Sarah's breath hitches. This is the part she didn't want to say. She breaks eye contact with him, looking down. The silence tells Elvis everything. A minute later

"I'm so sorry Elvis."

"I need to lay down." Elvis whispers, the air around them feels suffocating.

"Here you can take my bed."

"No. I don't want to impose."

"Impossible, now stand up mister. Let's get you to bed." Sarah stands from the couch grabbing Elvis's hand in hers without thinking, she gives it a little tug. Elvis stands up from the couch, willingly following the girl. He's staying very quiet and Sarah could feel his eyes on the back of her head, just staring. Sarah stops as they get to the end of the hall. Her bedroom door is shut, which is probably a good thing because the amount of Elvis posters on her wall might be concerning.

"Now before we go in...I'm Going to warn you I have like a few posters of you on my wall, I can take them down." Sarah nervously says, turning to the man in question.

"Don't bother me, Miss." With that Sarah opens up her bedroom door, letting Elvis in. The man takes a few moments to take in the room. Staring at the many posters on the wall and the many little knick-knacks on the tables and shelves. Some of the music posters he recognized. Himself, Bowie, Simon and Garfunkel, The Beatles, Queen, Bruce Springsteen, and Fleetwood Mac. Some he didn't recognize, One Direction, Greta Van Fleet, The Killers, Metallica.

"Sorry, my room is a mess, I wasn't expecting anyone over." Sarah mumbles, nervously eyeing the silent man.

"Do you want to change into something more comfortable? I might have something for you." Sarah questions, rubbing her arms anxiously as she eyes the clothes he's wearing. They don't look comfortable at all, black pants with a white button-up shirt with a black coat and to add it all together a shiny belt.

"No, I would like to go to bed." Sarah nods silently, pointing to her bed. He takes a seat on the bed, taking off his black coat and placing it on the pillow.

"Alrighty, I'm going to head to bed myself, perhaps this is just a dream and you'll wake up back in your own time." Sarah says trying to comfort both of them, giving him a tiny smile.

"I hope so."

Sarah slowly turns, about to walk out of her bedroom and to the little living area to sleep on her couch.

"Miss...I-I hope it's not too much to ask, but could you stay with me?" Sarah stops in her tracks, turning to stare at Elvis in surprise.

"L-Like in the same bed?" Sarah stutters out, her eyes looking frantic. She's never slept in the same bed as someone. Noticing the small unsure nod from Elvis. Sarah sighs quietly "I mean of course." Walking over to the other side Sarah flops on the bed. Laying down. Trying to ignore the man next to her.

"Thank you, Thank you very much."

"Goodnight Elvis."

"Night Lil Mama."