he paced the small make-up room, tucked away at the back of the NBC studios. only minutes to go. just moments until he came face to face with destiny or destruction. he was a panther, prowling, covered head to foot in glossy black leather, sleek, powerful, fierce - frightened.

little beads of sweat broke through the heavy stage make-up. he wrung his hands, then clenched one fist, smashing it into the palm of his other hand.

Elvis presley had been locked away for nearly eight years. caged, controlled, contained, restrained, and now was about to be let loose on an audience. but he wasn't sure that the flock of faithful outside in the tv studio wouldnt turn on him and tear him apart. not physically and in worship as they had done ten long years ago, but critically and with ridicule.

as his stomach churned and his hands trembled, Elvis wondered if the critics were right. was he merely a relic of an age long passed? was his career really dead and buried under the rubble of more than two dozen films? could he still work an audience? could Elvis presley still cut it? in barely more than a whisper, talking more to himself than to the few close friends who shared the small room and his fears, he said, "i haven't been in front of these people in years. what if they dont like me? what if they laugh at me?"

a voice sounded from outside the door. it cut through the room like an invitation to mount the gallows. "Mr're on."

elvis shook visibly, his hands quivering uncontrollably. he wove his way through the back of the studio, closer, closer to the stage. he was deaf to the music, deaf to the good wishes of his friends, deaf to the expectant hum of his fans. deaf to all but the pounding of his heart.

an Elvis presley oneshot book! hope y'all enjoyed the first update! and let me know what you think! xoxo