Nothing Is Gonna Change My World (McLennon, Starrison)

Elvis

On the morning of August 27, The Beatles were escorted quietly from the hotel, through back hallways and exits. The front of the hotel was already filled up with the daily reception of fans, waiting for a glance at their idols. Paul was in front, being led by a hotel co-manager whom kept thanking them for being here and how lucky they felt to be their choice as they visited California once again. Paul walked on behind the chatty man, occasionally saying a "thanks" or "you're welcome" hoping that each comment of gratitude would be the last of that topic. When they kept coming, Paul looked behind him at his bandmates, who nodded towards the man in a sort of mocking gesture. 

When they reached their exit, each Beatle thanks the manager personally, and kept along walking to their ride before they were caught in a form of conversation with the talkative man. When they were all seated, they looked out their windows at the man, who was yet standing at the door, propping it open with his left foot. The man waved enthusiastically as the car began to pull out of the driveway and onto the street. 

Brian sat in the passenger seat, his face showing clear nervousness. Of course, the lads didn't comment on the expression. They felt nervous themselves. Today, they'd meet a very important idol of theirs, and they wanted to present themselves at his level. If not, close to it. Paul looked up ahead at George. George offered a thinned smile and slight nod. Paul smiled back, raising his eyebrows briefly and taking a deep breath. John looked over at him, and grinned. He was mostly excited, but still nervous. Ringo played with the rings on his fingers nervously, and looked around at his bandmates as they shared in the collective nervous atmosphere they were creating. Why wouldn't they feel nervous? John was about to meet the man who set off his love and determination for musical success. Paul was about to meet the man who had brought him closer to John and the musical process. George was about to meet the man who was well on his way to becoming a legend, if he wasn't already, whom had a part in George discovering his true calling to music. Ringo was about to meet the man who took a part in the musical inspiration and motivation in his life when he felt he had nothing else to offer. The Beatles were about to meet the man who had inspired their rocker hair, clothes, and musical style from their earlier years. They were on their way to meet Elvis.

When the car started to slow in front of the Presley mansion, John held his breath. It was incredible. He had known he'd get to be part of this introduction eventually, but now that he was here, it felt almost surreal. Ringo got out of the car first, followed by John, George, and Paul, in that order. They didn't move, and Brian managed to walk out in front of them.

"Listen," He said, almost sternly, "I'm hoping you lads will be in your most respectful manner in the presence of Mr. Presley."

"My God, Bri. You talk to us like we're children," Paul said. 

"Of course, we'll behave, mother," John said, and out his right hand out and his hand on his chest, "Or so help me, God."
Brian looked at John, and rolled his eyes.

"Well, there you are. And here I am think but a minute ago that you decided not to come." The lads looked up to meet Colonel Tom Parker, Elvis' manager.

"Mr. Parker, nice to meet you," Brian said, stretching his hand out to Parker's.

"Are these the boys?" Parker asked, to which Brian nodded.

"Oh, yes, they are."

George stepped forwards first, his hand already outstreched, "Hello, I'm George Harrison. Pleasure to meet you."

"Yes, nice to meet you."

They each introduced themselves individually, Mr. Parker repeating the same thing every time.

"Well, you all seem like a nice group of lads. Elvis doesn't usually like meeting with other celebrities. But, you boys have become so influential, I thought we give this a go. How about it?"