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Based on the movie "The Drama", starring Robert Pattinson and Zendaya.
Summary: After his divorce, Elvis meets someone new through one of his friends.
A/N: hope u enjoy!
California. October 9, 1973
Elvis sat down on a chair with a pen on his hand, he was waiting for Priscilla to finish signing on the blank that had her name.
"Here", said Priscilla and handed him the papers. Elvis smiled and patted her hand gently before he took them from her.
He did a quick scribble, finishing the process. There, in bold letters, in a document which it's title was "Divorce Agreement", sat his and hers signature. Elvis passed the papers to a man that would have them notarized.
They stood up and Elvis linked his hand on Priscilla's arm. "Take good care of Lisa, alright?"
Priscilla looked at him and smiled softly, "I will, I promise"
Snap! Snap!
As they stepped out of the room and walked down the hallway, reporters started swarming around them, taking pictures.
The Presleys (Priscilla had decided to keep his last name), looked surprisingly calm, happy even. The media had expected them to give them a good headline for the papers, to storm out of the room or cry, make more drama about ending a six year long marriage.
The flash of the cameras was heard over and over as they walked. When they reached the door at the end of the hall to exit the building, Elvis opened it for her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
They walked out of the building and Priscilla made her way to her car, waving goodbye at him before she drove off.
Once she was out of sight, Elvis got inside the backseat of his car and told his chauffeur to drive him to the airport so he could take his private plane to get back to Memphis.
"God, I'm fuckin' busy this week" He lit a cigar and exhaled the smoke.
"You always have a busy schedule, sir"
"Who's gonna get money coming in if I slack?", he answered back in a low, tired voice.
His chauffeur kept driving in silence. Convincing the King to take a break was an impossible thing to achieve.
After some minutes in the car, the vehicle got parked outside Elvis private airplane and the chauffeur waited for him to get out of the car. Once the backseat door opened, the chauffeur got out of the car too.
Elvis offered him a cigarette, "Road was calm today"
"I know, no traffic jams today at all"
"Thanks again for drivin' me here"
"It's just my job. Hope you have a good trip, E"
He patted his chauffeur on the back "You bet I will"
Elvis went up the stairs to get inside the plane, said hello to the captain and settled on a seat.
The flight was good, it was a nice day outside and it wasn't windy, so he got quickly back to Tennessee.
Once he arrived, he got inside the car that was waiting for him and was taken to Memphis, back to Graceland for a couple of days of rest.
Back home, he went straight upstairs into the master bedroom and sat on the bed, taking off his sun glasses.
"Fuck, 'm tired" he said outloud to the empty bedroom.
He had some concerts to give in a few days, not enough time to have a proper rest. The way in which he had been working since the 50's, like a damn dog, would need years and years worth of vacation for him to recover fully from work.
Sunday, March 17, 1974
Elvis was on the road with Joe Esposito, his road manager and close friend.
"y'know El, my wife's birthday it's just around the corner"
Elvis nodded, Joan, Joe's wife, had been a bridesmaid of Priscilla on their wedding years ago.
"Hope she has a good birthday then"
Joe cleared his throat, "yeah, about that, I was hopin' ya could be in the party. Sing a song or two maybe"
"im not in the mood for another party this month man"
"C'mon, Elvis! Please? Just one song, one"
Joan was fond of Elvis, both as a man (she thought he was kind and generous) and as a singer. She was a fan of some of his songs, so Joe thought it'd be a good surprise for her party.
"fine, I'll go, but I ain't stayin' for the full thing"
Joe smiled "I owe you a big one"
Elvis chuckled "Just keep drivin' the damn car"
The two men spent the rest of the car ride discussing what song Elvis should sing. One of his own? One of another artist? Joan was fond of Frank Sinatra and Ray Charles too.
"just sing whatever ya want, it'll be a good show anyways"
El started laughing "good show? How d'ya know 'm not gonna sing some proper crap?"
Joe laughed too and shook his head "I'll have to trust your taste in music then"
Thursday, March 21, 1974
Elvis stood in front of his full body mirror in Graceland's master bedroom. He wore a blue button down, black trousers, cowboy boots, a black jacket and one of his signature Eye-catching belt.
He looked at his reflection, adjusting his cufflinks and his collar, running a hand through his hair to make it look better.
He put on a bit of his favorite cologne and chose some rings for his naked fingers.
"Ready to go, I guess" he whispered
His car pulled on the curb outside Joe Esposito's house. It was a small reunion, just 20 persons inside the house, friends and family that had gathered to wish Joan a good birthday.
"Elvis! You made it", Joe walked towards him
"Brought a gift for your wife" Elvis showed Joe a box
"Joanie! Come 'ere" Joan made her way to were Elvis and her husband were standing at
"Oh Elvis! Lovely seeing you around!"
"Happy birthday ma'am " Elvis offered her a smile and the box. Joan opened it, it was a necklace
"It's beautiful! Take a seat Elvis, take a seat! Joe, get him a chair"
While Elvis sat on a chair near the piano, preparing himself to play something sweet for the birthday girl, his eyes caught the sight of an emerald green dress among the guests.
He adjusted the collar of his button down and walked towards the place he saw the woman.
"Excuse me"
Your breath caught in your chest when you turned around and saw who was addressing you.
"Yes?"
Elvis placed a hand gently on your back.
"I was wondering if you'd like to sit near the piano"
"Sure"
He guided you to the piano and pointed at the couch next to it. It had an empty seat you quickly sat on.
It had to be your lucky day!
When your friend Joan invited you, you never expected for Elvis to be at the party, you knew your friend's husband worked for the King, but it was still a big surprise to see him there.
Your eyes stayed on him when he started to play.
The first notes of "Stand by me" began filling the room, everyone stayed completely quiet as he played.
You had only heard him on records and the radio.
Seeing him play live, and a cover of a song was new for you, and his voice made it sound beautiful.
The song ended and people clapped.
Elvis smiled "thank you"
He stood up from the piano bench and sat on the arm of the couch you were sitting on "how was it?"
"It was wonderful"
He chuckled "thanks darlin', glad to know it didn't sound bad at all"
His hand rested on the back of the couch, near your shoulder.
"What are you doin' in this party?"
"Oh, Joan invited me, I've known her for years already"
"I should thank her for inviting something this lovely to her party"
You felt your cheeks warm a little bit. Elvis looked at the clock on the wall and then back at you.
"You have a name?"
"____"
"Well. ____, i have to go already, it's late and I have something to do tomorrow. But I'd be happy if I could get your number"
Your eyes went wide, you didn't have a pen or paper to write it down.
"Give me a second "
You stood up and asked someone in the party if they had a pen.
Sitting back on the couch, you wrote your phone on a napkin. It wasn't fancy at all. You double checked to make sure you wrote it down correctly
"Here"
Elvis took the napkin and kept it on his pocket
"Thanks doll, call you later"
He touched your shoulder before he stood up and walked out of the door.
A/N: hope that you liked the first chapter, let me know in the comments if I made a mistake while writing (I still have trouble knowing when to use "where" and "were").
In which after his breakup with Mary, Freddie to talks about it with his friends.
Freddie Mercury
Somewhere in 1976. 10:36 PM
.♪
The couple had been talking for some minutes, arguing a bit about their engagement, Mary felt like she shouldn't stay, that if she stayed she'd make Freddie unhappy because he had confessed to her that he was attracted to men.
"I'm sorry Freddie" Mary stood in front of Freddie on their living room, her eyes glassy, holding back tears. He was in a similar state, seeing his girlfriend, his fiancee, the love of his live reaching for her finger to take of the ring to give it back to him.
"Keep it". His voice came out in a whisper. "Keep it Mary, please"
Mary hesitated, her eyes locking on his
"I can't" a tear slipped out of her eye
Freddie took her hands on his
"Please, keep the ring with you, darlin', for me?"
A long silence followed. Mary nodded and he left go of her hands. She turned around and went to their bedroom to pack her things.
Freddie was the one that called the cab, she gave him a hug and went outside, covering her mouth to keep a sob from escaping her.
.♪
Two days later,
Freddie sat on the couch, humming to himself, a cigarette on his fingers.
He closed his eyes and took the cig to his lips, taking a deep breath and exhaling the smoke into the air. The house was silent without Mary.
The phone rang. He dragged himself up to answer it.
"Hello?"
"Freddie, it's me, you missed rehearsal, is everything alright?"
It was Brian, he sounded worried.
Freddie sighed, "I'm alright, just overslept"
"overslept? Freddie, I've been calling for hours and you wouldn't pick the phone, we were all worried here!"
"'m fine, really. Just, tired, too much in my head lately"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Freddie stayed silent for a while minute
"i could use a bit of talking I guess"
"I'll tell Rog, and Deacy then, should we go to your place?"
"yeah, sounds good, see you then" Freddie hung up and grabbed another cigarette from his pocket.
.♪
An hour later, Brian, Roger and Johny arrived. They knocked on the door and Freddie opened it for them to go in.
"Hey Freddie, how's it goin'?" Roger sat on his couch "where's Mary though?"
Freddie cleared his throat "We were having a small discussion last night and, we came to the conclusion we...we are better as friends"
His band mates looked at him in silence , John was the one that spoke up first "I'm sorry to hear that"
"it's alright" Freddie sat down in a chair "I think it's better like this, saves us from a later fight once we're actually married"
Brian patted his back "Let's have some dinner here alright? I'll order Chinese or Italian and we can drink some beer"
Freddie smiled a bit "sounds like a plan then"
.♪
Dinner arrived and they are it while Roger told them another story about his car, Brian rolled his eyes.
"you only talk about that"
"it's not true! I talk about many things"
Freddie started laughing
"you both really have to stop fighting over Roger's car"
John shook his head and chuckled
"at least now you're laughing mate", said Roger and opened a bottle of beer.
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After producers ask Micheal to change his appearance for the You Rock My World short film, he breaks down. His head of security calls you in a panic, knowing you're the only one who can calm him.
Word count: 1.2k
Tags: Invincible era, angst, comfort, fluff at end dw
TW: extreme body image issues, yelling, throwing/breaking things
A/N: I will be referring to Michael's body gaurd by his last name so there's no confusion
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
You're at home, cozy in your bed as you read a book. The phone on the side table rings. The only people who have you and Michael's private phone number is Michael La Perruque, his head of security, and your families.
You pick up, assuming it was your mom or something as Michael is at the set of You Rock My World. The second you press the speaker to your ear, it sounds like chaos. People talking loudly, the sound of knocking, then the sound of something being throw and broken.
"Hey, I need you over here, now. Michael is... he's not okay." You hear Perruque say, his voice thick with concern. You sit up, shutting your book.
"What do you mean he's not okay?? Is he hurt?" You ask as you stand and begin hurriedly putting on clothes. "I don't know. Hes locked himself in a bathroom and is just... breaking down. He won't let anyone in, he's not responding to anyone." He sounds stressed, his voice wavering.
"I'll be there in 10 minutes." You say, slamming the phone down. Its a 15 minute drive, and you hate driving in LA, but you slip on your shoes and grab your keys, running out the door like your life depends on it.
You exceed the speed limit, not giving a flying fuck about anything but your husband. When you pull up to the set, the producers are huddled together talking, their faces a mix of fear, concern, and guilt.
You get out, running to the bathrooms. Perruque and Michael's entire team are standing there, a few of them still knocking. You hear sobs coming from the bathroom, then the sound of the mirror being shattered. Oh fuck.
You run up to Perruque, who tears his focus from the bathroom to you. "The producers wanted to use makeup to make him darker, and resculpt his nose to how it was before surgery. They said it would be more "urban" or something. He stormed out before they finished and has been in there for 15 minutes." He rushes, looking at the door.
You push through everyone, anger boiling your blood, worry aching in your chest. You rap your knuckles on the door, straining to hear him. "Mikey, its me, baby. Can you let me in, please?" You say, your voice loud but gentle.
The sounds inside stop and all you can hear is his heavy breathing. "Come on, angel. Just me, nobody else will come in. I promise." You say, your voice quieter now. A few beats pass as you hold your breath. Then the click of the door unlocking.
You immediately open the door just wide enough to step in, shutting it and locking it again. You take in everything. The shattered mirror, the toiletries scattered and broken, glass all over the counter and floor. You look at Michael. His once long hair is wildly cut short, scissors discarded on the floor. You swear you feel your heart break.
He stares at you, red-rimmed eyes, tear stained cheeks, his mouth open as he pants, his chest heaving. "Oh, my baby." You whisper, walking to him and pulling him into you. He breaks, choking out a sob as he hugs you, his face in your shoulder, his hands gripping the back of your shirt impossibly tight.
You rub your hands on his back, saying nothing. There was nothing to say. All you could do was be there. He pulls you closer against him, tears pouring from his eyes. The sounds he makes, the sharp inhales and hiccuping cries, they make you want to kill whoever did this to him.
You press a kiss into his shoulder, stroking the bottom of his hair. "It's okay baby, I'm here. I'm here." You whisper. He sucks in a shaky breath like he can't breathe. You close your eyes to keep your own tears from forming.
"We're gonna go home, okay? You don't need to worry about work today." You feel him nod, sniffing. When you know hes okay for you to, you pull back, looking into his glossy eyes. You cup his cheeks, swiping away warm tears.
"I'm so sorry. You dont deserve any of that bullshit. I'm sure Trudy Green will have some very strong words for them. It won't ever happen again." You promise. He just stares at you, looking defeated.
"I-" he chokes on his words, his eyes welling once more. "I'm a monster, aren't I?" He whispers. Your heart breaks again. You pull him tight into another hug, eyebrows furrowed. "No baby. No, don't ever say that. You are not a monster. You are my sweet angel. You are the purest person I've ever met. The most generous, kind, forgiving, compassionate person to walk this earth. Do not let some assholes make you think any differently." You say gently, talking slow but with urgency.
He just hums, not listening as he's still lost in his own head. You pull back again, taking his face in your hands and looking into his eyes. It pulls his attention back to you instantly.
"Let's go home, yeah?" You softly push a strand of hair behind his ear, grabbing his fedora and placing it gently on his head. He nods, grabbing his sunglasses from the counter and sliding them on. You grab his hand, squeezing tightly.
"You got this baby. You dont have to respond to anyone." You murmur as you unlock the door. Taking a deep breath, you pull it open. Everyone who was gathered in front of the door talking went silent, looking at you, then him. He keeps his head down, biting hard on his lip to hold back more tears.
You push past the people, ignoring the pitying looks as you walk to Perruque. "I'm gonna drive him home, I'll call you later when he's better." You tell him. He nods, thanking you silently.
The ride home is quiet, but you keep your hand intertwined with his despite the fact you know he thinks it's dangerous. You don't care right now, you just want to comfort your husband.
When you get to Neverland, you bring him inside and carefully undress him, getting him into the shower. You wash his hair, careful around his burn scar, kissing his shoulders occasionally to ground him.
Once he's clean and dried off, you sit him down in the kitchen with a pair of scissors, evening out the length of his hair. He's silent for the majority of it all, except for a few mumbled thank you's. You can't lie, a few tears fall when he's not looking. You're just so heartbroken for him.
After you finish and clean up the kitchen floor, the two of you curl up into bed, his back pressed against your chest as you comb your fingers through his hair, whispering sweet praises into his ear until he's lulled to sleep.
You stay awake, anger still burning deep in your chest. You can't believe anyone would have the nerve to say such things to Michael, arguably the kindest, considerate person alive.
Forcing yourself to calm down, you decide to deal with it later and focus on being a support system for your husband. As the sun rises over the California hills, you wrap your arms around Michael's waist and drift to sleep.
Author's note: I've had ABBA songs stuck in my head all month long, specially the one of 'Fernando', and the lyrics mention a rifle at some point, so I thought "hey, it could make a story or somthing about Elvis during his time in the army!" Hope you enjoy! :D
Germany, 1959.
Elvis was in Germany, riding the Jeep. His only task was to go and get some soldiers from the other side of town.
He slowed the jeep, a car had broken down in the middle of the road.
You found yourself inside your car (a car you had rented for the time you were gonna be on the country), turning the key over and over trying to get the engine running again. You had been on your way to your hotel after a the wedding party of one of your friends; you should've listened to your them when they told you to get gasoline before you headed to the hotel. But you had ignored their advice and attempted to get back without filling the tank.
Elvis got down of the jeep to see if everything was alright with the driver of a car. "Oh brilliant! Now a soldier, what's next, cops?", you told yourself when you saw a man on uniform aproach your car through the rearview mirror.
Elvis knocked on the car's window, "Excuse me ma'am, is everythin' alright?", his voice came out muffled by the glass. You rolled the window down and blinked surprised, once, twice. You had read on the papers he was doing service at Germany, but you had never thought that you'd meet him.
"I ran out of gas"
Elvis nodded and ran a hand through his hair, "I can get a tow truck if you want", he stood straight and pointed at the phone cabin nearby "Give me a minute and I'll call them"
He walked away to the phone cabin. You sighed and looked at the car mirror fixing your hair. Was it your lucky day? You met a famous man because of this situation.
Elvis walked back to your car "Help's comin' now, don't worry", you smilled. He was kind.
"Thank you"
"I can stay with you while the tow truck arrives, keep you company, if you want", said Elvis. You opened the door and stood outside of your car. Both of you walked to the crub and Elvis took off his jacket and placed it on the crub for you to sit on it and keep your clothes clean. You blushed but sat down.
"Where are you from, darlin'?"
"I'm from (state/country)"
"You're a long way from home then"
You nodded, "I came here because a friend married a german, and the wedding was here, but I'll be back home in a week,"
"So you were at the party I suppose"
"Yes, my friends told me to fill the tank on my way back but I ignored them"
Elvis started laughing, god, his laugh.
He shook his head and stood up from the crub, the truck had arrived. He offered you his hand to gelp you stand up. He talked a bit with the driver, you paid and told him if he could please get the car to a gas station.
You were getting inside the tow truck when Elvis called after you, "Hey, honey, can I get your number?" He pulled a handkercheif out of his pocket and asked the driver of the truck if he had a pen. You were handed both things and bit your lip as you wrote down the digits, checking twice to make sure you got it right.
Elvis kept the handkercheif on his pocket and smiled at you "I'll call you in...two weeks then". He said goodbye with his hand amd walked by to the Jeep, he was going to be late.
After you got the gas station and filled the tank of your rented car, you drove to your hotel. You threw yourself yo your bed once on your room. You couldn't wait to be back home and answer that phone call.
Ig it's a bit angsty, he snaps at reader, mentions of pills.
Elvis was having a horrible day, and now that it waslate at night he couldn't sleep. He looked through the cabinets, one after the other and still couldn't find a single pill to help him ignore his problems.
He heard the bathroom door open and you walked in, he looked up and instanly closed the cabinet.
"What are you doing?" You said with a frown and looked at him
"Nothing baby, go back to sleep"
"Elvis. What are you hiding?"
"I said it's nothing alright, just fucking leave me alone!"
You flinched, the screaming had been sudden, you knew he did had a temper, but the snaps weren't frequent. Elvis rubbed his temples.
"Look...I'm sorry alright? Just...give me five minutes alone"
Elvis waited till she left the bathroom and splashed his face with water. He felt more alert now, so he dug through the cabinets again, opening bottles. Empty, empty, empty...
He sighed "c'mon..." he closed the cabinet again and ran a hqnd through his hair. He'd be having a bad night of sleep.
Elvis returned to the bedroom, you were curled on bed, probably angry about the flinching and suspicious of whatever he was hididng
Elvis sat on his side of the bed and touched your shoulder softly "Satnin'" you looked at him. "I'm sorry, i didn't mean to snap, i just feel tired and i couldnt find my...my rake, i swear i didn't mean to scream"
He placed a hand on your cheek. "Forgive me, please?".
You nodded
"That's a good girl" elvis layed on the bed and pulled you closer to his chest. "Goodnight doll"
You stayed quiet for a second "goodnight elvis"
Elvis felt your breath slow, he stayed looking at the ceilling, he'd probably wouln't shut eye all night. He was already dependant to his pills. It was only time before you found out, and he knew that would end in a fight.
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Elvis had been on tour for months now, no letters, no calls, nothing. No sign of him being alive asides from the constant pictures of him in the morning papers.
He said hed call daily, bunch of lies. You where starting to get tired of that life, you loved him and understood his career took most of his time, but a simple call wouldnt take him more than a few minutes.
You were playing with the ring on your left hand, his promises to marry you now felt empty, just a bunch of pretty words thrown to the air. Maybe he had found someone else, perhaps he was cheating on you (or maybe you were paranoid).
The phone rang, once, twice.
The third time it rang you finally decided to pick it up. "Hello?" "Darlin', that you?" A silence followed from your side, "yes, it's me" "You finally pick up the phone, i was starting to worry" "How's tour?" "same as always". His vague answers, something you didnt like about him, never details, just the classic 'same as always'.
"I've been thinking about you everyday, can't wait to get back home" "When are you coming back?" "In a couple of days darlin' wait for me love, I'll be going home to you soon"
.
Three days later, you where inside the house watching tv, waiting, always waiting for him. You heard a car stopping outside of the house.
Some minutes later, Elvis was coming throught the door, a present under his arm, a big smile and a tired face, "I'm back baby". He walked towards the couch you where siting at and sat next to you to give you a kiss on the lips.
You smiled a bit when he did and hugged him "I missed you" "Missed you too darlin', got you a few things" He nuddged the gift to you. You opened the box and gave him a smile "thank you". Another expensive dress, he always brought expensive things when he got back from tour, maybe it was his way of saying he was sorry for the time he spent away without talking to you.
Elvis smiled and gave yoy a kiss on the cheek. He reached for your left hand and kissed the engagement ring. "Soon baby, you, me, together".
You looked up at him, was it true? Was he finally taking a break long enough to finally get married? "Soon?" "I was thinking that after next tour..."
You stopped listening to him and looked at the floor frowning. Another tour, the date of the wedding getting postponed again, another "soon" that apparently wouldn't come soon enough. 'Elvis love', 'Elvis sweatheart', 'Elvis' fiance'.
Elvis kept talking animatedley about how good you'd look on the clothes you'd wear on the special day. You thought, hoped and prayed that you'd still love him enough to say 'yes' on the altar, prayed that his neglect during tours wouldn't kill the illusion of spending your life with him.
You forced a smile and tried to match his entusiasm. One last chance, you said to yourself, you'd give it one last chance, yes, things would definetly look better in the future.
Hiiii!!! This is just a small try at writing something in Elvis :/ English is not my first language sry.
Feedback is accepted :D, just be kind
TW: use of the word gun
You had recently given birth to a healthy baby, your first daughter. And her father was non other than Elvis Presley, the king of rock'n'roll.
He had recently started the habit of having a fun, a damn gun on the drawer in the bedside table. To you it was horrible, dangerous. To think that your daughter would grow up surrounded by weapons because her daddy had gone paranoid recently, "I know it satnin, just tryna be careful. I don't want anything bad to happen to us".
But you thought his paranoid thoughts of some "enemy" killing you all at night was gonna end up in an accident in the future. Right now the baby was a newborn. But what when it started crawling? What when it walked and toddled around the house?
Kids where curious, you knew that much. And the thought of tiny fingers close to a trigger, that made your blood turn into ice.
Elvis said that it was for protection, you saw a risk. You couldn't really fifth with him over it. He wouldn't listen. He said he loved you, but he liked it better when you listened to him without question. An argument wouldn't work
You could only hope he'd come into sense and lock the guns when the baby girl started walking.
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