Two days after the argument with Elvis, you find yourself in the dining room with Vernon, Elvis, and two lawyers that had been sent over by a director at MGM studios. Ever since Elvis had mentioned his acting ambition to you, he'd been working hard to get involved with the studio.

"Now Mr. Presley, we at MGM studios would be delighted to work with you on a new project coming up, a roll our client thinks you'd be perfect for." One of the lawyers says, tapping his stack of papers against the oak table. You send Elvis a bright smile which he returns, taking your hand in his.

"If you'd just take a look at these contracts, we can contact our client and start production right away!"

Elvis's eyes brighten.

Mary knocks on the entryway, coming in with a tray laden with coffee and sandwiches.

It's at this moment you begin to feel a little dizzy, blinking a bit to shake the feeling from your head. Your stomach does a funny little swoop at the smell of the sandwiches, and you excuse yourself quickly as to not make a scene.

Nausea claws its way up your stomach, and you make it to the bathroom down the hall just in time.

For ten minutes you sit crouched on the bathroom floor, cheek resting against the cool porcelain of the toilet.

You take a deep breathe before lifting your head, begging the world to stop spinning as you do so.

Confusion fills you, sitting back against the wall of the bathroom. You bring your knees to your chest. It's possible you could have caught whatever bug Elvis had just gotten over, but even the doctor was sure that Elvis's sickness had come on from exhaustion.

Stress, perhaps?

You think of ever single possible sickness it could be, trying desperately to avoid the one diagnosis's that stands out in the back of your mind like a sore thumb.

Pregnant.

The world sends an icy chill through your body, heart dropping to your stomach.

You shake your head.

You can't be sure, not without a proper test, but something inside you seems to light up at the thought, a feeling of knowing.

These last few days you had been feeling strange, lightheaded and moody for no reason. You had thought that it was just your period creeping up on you, the symptoms similar enough. Then, you had missed a day.

You had thought nothing of it at the time, but now. . .

Strong emotions well up inside of you- excitement, uneasiness, disbelief. You press a manicured hand to your stomach lightly, as if you'd feel something moving there. It's a silly thought, but it makes you giddy with nerves none the less.

You're still shaken from Elvis's confession of his relationship with Shelia, trust bent a little. Would things like this continue? Would more secret ex girlfriends keep popping up? The thought of bringing a child into that nonsense fills you with a deep sadness, an anxiety you can't escape.

An even scarier thought makes you choke back tears.

What if Elvis didn't want children, especially with you? You shake your head, trying to will the thought out of your head.

Standing up and washing your hands, splashing a bit of water on your face, you decide to go find Candice.

*

*

*

"You think you're what?!"

You shush Candice quickly, looking at the door.

"Tell the whole house why don't you." You whisper as Candice stands at the edge of the bed, hands on her head as she stares at you in disbelief.

"I haven't even taken a test yet, it could be nothing!" You say. Candice is still looking at you like you have three heads, mouth open. You sigh, standing up.

"Well, what should I do?"

Candice puts her hands down, resting them on her hips.

"First things first, take a home test." She rushes over to her bag, pulling out a pack of home pregnancy tests. You raise an eyebrow at her.

"And you just have those in your bag because?"

Candice flaps her hands at you.

"This isn't about me, this is about you." She opens the box, shakes out a test, and practically shove's it at you. "Now go piss, girl."

You take the stick, walking across the hall to the bathroom. You lock it behind you, apprehensive as you take the test and hope to god no one comes looking for you.

You place it on the counter after your done, taking your time to wash your hands and stare at yourself in the mirror for a bit, anything to avoid looking at the test.

A knock sounds at the door. Your nerves flutter up in your chest.

"You take it yet?"

It's Candice.

"Yes." You hiss, unlocking the door and letting her in with you.

"How long does it take to show up?" You ask, leaning back against the sink. You rub your ankle with your barefoot anxiously.

"Just a few minutes, not that long." Candice tells you, eyeing the test beside your hand.

You still refuse to look at it.

"What are you going to do if you are, Y/N?" She asks carefully, eyes leveling on your face.

"I. . . I don't know." You sigh, putting your face in your hands. You feel overwhelmed, the lights in the bathroom seemingly too bright all of the sudden.

Candice takes your wrist in her hand.

"Whatever happens Y/N, you have me. If you have this baby and Elvis is against it, I'll be the babies damn father."

This makes you laugh, and you blink back tears as you look at your best friend.

She shoots you a soft smile.

"I don't think he will be, though. He loves you, and something tells me that if you are pregnant, the man just might die from happiness."

"You think so?" You say softly, looking up at Candice through your lashes.

She nods, wide grin on her face.

"I think it's ready now, I'm gonna look okay?"

You take a shaky breathe and nod, watching as Candice reaches for the stick.

You pointedly look every where else but at the results.

Candice holds it up to the light, a sharp intake of breath making your head shoot up to look at her.

"Oh, my god."