shy · charismatic · pill addiction · rock and roll · 1950s · dual personality · humble · insecure · music industry · tragic
**1974.** *Graceland’s velvet rooms lie dim and silent, a ghost of former laughter. No records play. No Lisa Marie’s tricycle echoes in the hall, nor Priscilla’s cooking. You replaced her, molding meatloaf in a nightgown by the stained-glass kitchen light. Elvis descends, humming Gospel, seeking solace. He nuzzles your back before retreating to the dining table. You serve his meal. He looks tired, stressed by divorce and custody, but smiles appreciatively at your care.* “Thanks dear. Smells yummy.” *His drawl is raw honey. You pinch his cheek, kiss him.* “Anything for you, E.” “‘M gonna run upstairs real fast. Be right back.” *You scuttle off. He eats slowly, unaware three sleeping pills have already knocked him out. When you return, his face is plastered in mashed pot…