An Impetuous Tale [Elvis]

Chapter 11 - My Desert Serenade

I just want to say thank you all for taking time out of your lives to read my Elvis stories. I don't have many Elvis fan friends in person. Like two. You all are my peeps! 😁

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The dark ceiling stared back at me. In fourteen hours, I would have to play a damsel in distress as I watch some men fake-fight each other, while there would be a real leopard on the set, and I would have to kiss a man almost every woman in the country would want to kiss. I would eventually find out what kind of kiss.

But... a kiss was a kiss, no matter how small or deep, and on camera or not.

I slapped the bed I lay on in frustration. Maybe I should just go with my previous plan and run for it. It wasn't like me to stop a project, though, not even if I totally hated it. But what other way would I be able to talk to Elvis about his life? I certainly didn't want to follow him around like a stereotypical journalist, and I wanted to get right into the story.

"What the heck am I going to do?" I moaned into the dark room. I leaned over and turned on the pink lamp that Mary Ann bought the other day, and it was sitting on my new nightstand. There was no way I would sleep any time soon. I got up and went out to the living room, only to find Mary Ann there in purple pajamas sitting on the sofa reading a book.

"Oh, hi," she said with a smile, and she had red pointed glasses on. "You couldn't sleep, either, huh?"

I sat next to her and let out an exaggerated sigh as I did so. "No. I seriously feel like I'm a sixteen-year-old girl trying to stay away from her crush when she wants nothing more than to be close to him. It makes no sense at all."

Mary Ann put down her book on the coffee table as I took an orange sofa pillow and hugged it as I sat on the sofa with my knees up. I faced my roommate. She said, "Love is strange that way."

I pouted. "I hate this. Why did I have to be so impetuous and do this movie while getting my story? I should've just made some other deal, like Elvis and I could meet certain days and I could interview him, not see him almost every day on a movie set."

"It was a way you could get as much information as you could. That's what journalists do, right? Go where they can to get a good story? I think other journalists would kill for your position. You're working with your subject on almost a daily basis, and he's interested in you. You can't get much better than that." I still pouted as I hugged the pillow. "C'mon, Rebecca... you're making a big deal out of this. Didn't you say that you two agreed to just do the scene and be done with it?"

"Yes, but..."

"Yeah, I get it. Even if it's acting, you're still kissing. And you'll most likely have to do it a few times to get the take right." She blew air out of her mouth. "Golly, like I said... women would kill to be in your shoes." She gave me a sly look. "And I think you won't give those shoes away. As much as you don't like it, you can't wait for it since Elvis gives you butterflies."

She tickled one of my legs, and I nearly kicked her. We both laughed, and my face felt heated. I was so glad that we became besties. "Stop, okay? Look, he was right. We're just doing the scene. And... you're right, too. I don't like it, but I can't wait for it. Really, it's like I'm back in high school again, and I want to stay away from the guy who's crushing on me and I'm crushing on him, too. It's like trying to avoid a certain someone under the mistletoe."