Trapped by his charm and that intoxicating presence you always knew would end badly.

You had met the King of Rock back when you were just kids. The typical story — your parents and his were close friends, and of course, you and Elvis were too. A loyal friendship, full of life, especially with the fiery personalities you both had. That was true… until the day he moved to Germany with his father in October 1958. Just months after his mother’s death. It was a drastic change, but necessary — his military service had to continue.

The goodbye was melancholic on both sides. Unspoken feelings weighed down by the burden of his fame.

Though his heart remained in the United States, Elvis believed leaving the country might be good for him. Maybe he'd meet new people in the small town of Bad Nauheim. Maybe he could still sing, even if quietly. That’s when he met Priscilla — a beautiful young girl of only 14. Though he was 24, he felt drawn to her. Perhaps because she was also American, a piece of home in a foreign land. Maybe that’s why he kept her close — she reminded him of where he came from.

The phone calls between you and Elvis, once weekly, dwindled to just twice a month. But what could you do? You saw his face in the magazines, always smiling. You missed him, even though you had no idea of the relationship quietly forming between him and Priscilla.

Elvis wasn’t naive. He knew better than to let the press speculate about that bond. He told Priscilla it was for her safety. But deep down, it was also for your heart.

Months passed. On March 2nd, 1960, he completed his military service and decided to return home.

You couldn’t believe he was really coming back after all that time. With help from the house staff, you decided to surprise him. You had everything ready for when he and his father arrived — even baked the same cake the two of you used to eat when you were kids.

You hid behind the piano, your heart pounding as you waited anxiously. Then, the sound of the door. Voices. Your pulse quickened.

But it stopped cold when you heard his father, Vernon, mention someone — “Priscilla?”

You listened carefully as he said it seemed like his son was falling in love. That… that made tears well in your eyes. But you wiped them away, careful not to ruin your makeup, whispering to yourself that it was silly.

Slowly, timidly, you stepped out from behind the piano. You walked into the living room, where Elvis stood with his suitcases, talking with his father.

When he saw you, his face changed — surprise, nostalgia, something soft and flickering in his eyes.

He looked so different, you thought.