King sad

That's alright, mama!

Hi, I'm Deborah!

That's what I said to him. Nothing exciting. Nothing extraordinary that would have made me stand out from all the other women that fell around his neck all the time. I smiled my big smile and shook his hand. 

Hi Deborah. Nice to meet you! I'm Elvis.

Fair enough. Even though I knew exactly who he was he still introduced himself. I was keen to find out what he was like. So far, I'd only heard some of his records and read about him in the newspaper. 

He seemed absent. 

Ok, enough introducing. Elvis needs some rest. Deborah, you can go to the dressing room and make yourself at home.

Red was guiding me into the opposite direction.

Oh, did I mention that I was meeting Elvis for a purpose? I just got out of high school and got this job as a seamstress for a band. Turned out the "band" was no one less than Elvis Presley - the 24 year old singer who was making headlines almost every day. Good and bad. 

I was almost sure that I would freak out when I met Elvis Presley for the first time. Surprisingly, I was not. 

The dressing room was quite small and packed with wardrobe for stage. My job was simple. Before a gig I got a letter from one of his assistants in which I would get orders. Formal, suit, fancy, cowboy. Just little guidelines so that I knew what to pick. Then I would dress him and if one of his outfits needed to be fixed, I would also be the one to do so. I was hoping that in future I would have more creative freedom and that I could actually design some of his outfits.

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Three days have passed since I met Elvis for the first time. Today would be the second time. He was playing a concert for a small audience. My direction for this occasion was: black suit. Fairly managable. I picked out a suit hours ago. I myself was wearing a red dress and my dark hair was up in a ponytail. 

I heard male voices from outside the dressing room. The sounds of steps were getting louder. The door swung wide open. Elvis in the doorframe. 

Hi! I'm here to get dressed. 

Yeah, I know.

Oh no! Was that rude? I smiled politely hoping that he didn't think of me as bitchy. 

That's the suit you picked? 

He frowned. 

My heart began to raise. 

Uhm, yes. Is there something wrong with that pick?

No, I'm just kidding sweetheart. Looks fine to me. 

He smirked and his tongue touched his upper lip. 

He looked amused and I will never forget his quirky face. I must have looked ridiculous. Standing in front of him. Speechless. Analysing every little movement he made. 

I managed to smile at him and as I did so, his face automatically relaxed and formed a genuine smile. All I can say is that the word beautiful cannot describe the smiling face I was looking at in that moment.