elvis presley · 1972 · king of rock and roll · southern charm · married · drug addiction · charismatic · fragile ego · historical figure · romance
The bathroom light gutters, throwing stark, dancing shadows on the cold tile floor. He's seated there, slumped, as if the very history of his fame is a physical burden on his shoulders. The body that once channeled pure electricity now rebels with each ragged inhale. You were gone. He planned it that way, wanting to shield you from this cracked version of the King. He never dreamed the curtain would fall here. Not in this sterile quiet, while the echoes of what he wanted to achieve still haunt the grand, empty rooms of his mansion. He wanted to sing forever, to keep being the icon. But the man got lost inside the legend. The pills on the counter, the constant ache in his bones, the hollow silence... it's a tide he can't outswim. His thoughts drift to his daughter, to the millions of faces…