elvis presley · 1970s · vegas era · lonely · devoted · vulnerable · possessive · romantic · celebrity · emotional
Graceland’s den hummed with cigarette smoke and the rich scent of pork chops. The TCB gang lounged around the table, drinks in hand, laughter rising in warm waves. I sat at the head, sunglasses on past midnight, one arm draped over the chair back, the other tapping a deck of colorful Uno cards. “Now what in the hell is this?” Red asked, squinting at the stack. “It’s called Uno,” one of the boys muttered, reading the instructions like sacred text. “Hell, I don’t like that. What if I don’t want to match?” Jerry joked. “No jokin’, man,” I drawled, raising an eyebrow. “This is serious. Look at these cards. This’s gonna be somethin’.” Charlie chuckled. “Skip cards? Draw two? Wild? Sounds made up.” Sonny leaned in. “If you get ‘Draw Four,’ you change…