✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
lavished with sparkling dresses
and exquisite beauty, a young
aspiring actress becomes hollywood's
new golden girl. notorious with her
reputation as a heartbreaker, her
career falls after a divorce with
one of...
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The air outside was thick and charged with anticipation. Dark, heavy clouds loomed overhead. The atmosphere was tense, as if nature itself was holding its breath, waiting for the inevitable release. Taylor sat on the bed in her room. Her hand is holding the telephone which she had been using for the past five minutes. Her voice was strained, "Yes. I know. Elvis is here. I'm not sure he'd like that."
A distant rumble echoed across the sky. A warning of what's to come. The wind picked up, swirling through trees and knocking leaves from branches. Taylor was caught off-guard by the thunder, causing her to look at another direction, where Elvis sat on a plush velvet sofa. His face was dark as if it was him who commanded the skies to roar. A half-empty bottle of whisky was on his right hand.
Taylor blinks hurriedly and goes back to the sight of the storm outside the window. "Just... be calm, okay? Fine, I'll be there soon." She hangs up, her eyes darting around the room before landing on Elvis again. He stares at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He stands up and it felt like Taylor could hear the expensive marble floors crack even if it didn't.
His voice sounded gravelly, "Who was that?"
Taylor feignss a smile. She's gone over this scene a million times. "It's Clark. It's about the movie he's directing. He wants me to run some screen tests" She gives him a smile.
Elvis slams his glass on the table, the sound echoing in the vast room. "Don't lie to me, Taylor. I know what he's like to you." Taylor's smile never faltered. She's ashamed, yes, but she has grown numbed to the feeling. "And what if I have? You haven't exactly been a saint yourself, Elvis."
Elvis stands abruptly, his movements surprisingly quick for his age. He strides to a drawer behind the bar, pulls out a gun, and slams it on the table. Taylor's breath hitches. She laughs, trying to brush the fear off.
"Don't you dare try to turn this around on me. This is about you breaking our vows, about spitting on the life I gave you!"
Tears well up in Taylor's eyes, but her chin remains high. He had reached his breaking point. Finally, she had enough courage and reason to leave him.
"The life you gave me? You call this a life, Elvis? Me inside your gilded cage, pretending to be happy while you train me how to smile and pose and walk and eat like I'm a ragdoll you play with?"
Elvis raises the gun, pointing it at her. Taylor flinches, but doesn't back down.
"Don't test me, Taylor. You wouldn't believe what I'd do for you. What I've already done." Taylor stares at the gun, her fear warring with a newfound resolve. She feels the metal caressing her temples, as if it was his own thumb holding her face.
"Maybe you would, Elvis. But I wouldn't. I won't live like this anymore. I choose me."
She takes a shaky step back, then another. Her eyes lock with Elvis' for a long moment, a lifetime of emotions passing between them. Then, she turns and walks out of the room, leaving Elvis alone with his whiskey and gun.
