I'll Follow The Sun •Elvis Presley•

9: January

(I have the picture above hanging on my wall ❤️)

"So, you're Elvis' girlfriend?" A man sat next to me in Red's bar downstairs. A woman stood behind the counter cleaning off used glasses. The man had chocolate brown hair and dark eyes.

"Yeah." I said. I sipped on my pepsi, hoping he'd go away.

"I'm Dennis. A friend of Elvis." He said with his hand out. I shook his hand. Rough and sweaty skin.

"How old are you?" He asked. He scooted closer to me, making me edgy, uncomfortable.

"Nineteen." I said and stood. I walked away to go find Elvis. Or anyone else I knew for that matter. Something about him freaked me out.

January 1954

"Elvis, they are ready for you." I peaked my head through the door between Marion's office and the recording studio at Sun Records.

His blue eyes met mine from the glossy plastic chair he sat in. He nodded and let out a deep breath and rubbed his palms on his pant legs. I presumed to get sweat off of him. He stood and walked over to me.

I held my hand out and he clasped his in mine. I wanted to calm him down as much as possible. He was so nervous.

"Liz I'm scared." He said sternly.

"Elvis you'll do fine. You're 19 years old now. Don't be a baby." I assured him. We both stepped into the studio hand-in-hand. I kissed his cheek.

"Just play." I said and let go of his sweaty, clammy hand.

"What if they don't like it?" Elvis whispered. "I'll be ruined."

"Elvis." I said, annoyed. "You have the greatest talent I've ever seen and heard. You will be fine." I left him with that and went to the sound booth where Marion and Sam sat, chatting before the session started.

"He's nervous. Very nervous." I said once I shut the door behind me.

Sam, my 30 year old boss, ran a hand through his brown hair.

"Well he better be good." Sam said.

"I told you. He's the white boy ya' been lookin for, Sam. He has a good ballad, too." Marion said. She sat in a chair in front of the table with the equipment on it. Sam had his arms crossed over his chest while leaning against the table on his butt.

"Let's get started then." He turned around and looked at nervous Elvis. He chuckled. "Sure is nervous. And unusual looking. Has 'sex' written all over him.

Marion snuck a quick glance at me. I blushed and my face got hot.

Elvis and I still haven't done anything. Still pure. I somewhat fear that he doesn't really want me to be honest...

Elvis picked up a guitar and began to strum it.

Sam sat down in the chair and put on headphones.

"State your name then sing your song." Sam said, his voice projecting into the room. Elvis nodded and cleared his throat.

Sam pressed "record" and nodded to Elvis.

"My names Elvis Presley," he said looking straight at Sam. Then he played his song "I'll Never Stand In Your Way". He sang his heart out too. I swooned at his voice. Marion did too. She pushed strands of her blonde hair behind her ear as she looked at Elvis with dreamy eyes. I grinned at her. She could see me of course, I was standing behind her.

Elvis' song closed. He began "It Wouldn't Be The Same Without You". Again, swooning.

When that song finished, Elvis looked at Marion and shook his head. "No." He said. Marion looked appalled. Hell I did too. How could he say that?