Devil's Music

When I entered Elvis' waiting room, my eyes widened, looking at the gifts that were piled up in the waiting room and the food that was filled with tables.

“Wow, that looks really good.”

Elvis tore up the apple pie that his fans had baked and gave it to him.

“Haha. It's a popular occasion.

Try it. Drink orange juice next to you when you're thirsty. ”

As I learned from my mother, Gun said hello and received an apple pie.

“I'll eat well. Brother.”

Elvis smiles as he looks at his manners.

I asked him if he was obsessed with the taste of apple pie for the first time.

“Phew... Phew... It's really good, I should ask my mom to make it too. Well Well”

Elvis smiles at the disappearing apple pie like a dog's eye.

“Hey, hey. I pretend to eat like that. I drink juice like that. Where do you live, by the way? And why didn't you grow up at all? Are you sick? How come it doesn't grow like a peanut four years ago? ”

The gun shoves the apple pie in its mouth and shakes its hand.

“Well... never mind. I'm gonna wake up and I'm gonna grow up again. My mom says I'm taller later because my calves are longer than my age. It's gonna be a lot bigger than you. ”

Elvis opens his eyes to the matter.

“Dream? What do you mean, dream? Haha, is it like a dream to meet me?

Well, I, who was a poor truck driver four years ago, became such a popular singer.

You didn't expect to see me again. Hahaha ”

Gun shakes his head at Elvis' words and gives up explaining.

Rather than explaining that this place was a dream world, it was a task to put pies piled up like mountains in front of our eyes.

Elvis smiles at the fact that he's more interested in pie than he is in himself.

At that moment, the door of the waiting room opened, and a blonde 30-year-old man jumped in.

He was a photographer who saw it the first time he came here.

The man looks at Elvis and shouts, "This is ridiculous."

“Hey, Elvis! What if we cut the show in the middle?

Don't you know what day it is? The Vice President's family is out there.

What if we leave the stage at the last minute without an explanation? ”

Elvis smiles, deeper into the leather couch he was sitting on.

“Hey, William. Shouldn't you be taking pictures of my album jacket anyway? Sam doesn't have to be a nag anymore, does he? ”

The man named William sat on the couch opposite him without clearing his expression of absurdity.

“Elvis, if I were Sam, I'd get your head on the stage right now.

Unless you want to be president of the Stan Records for poker. ”

William picks up a cigarette that's sitting on the table, sees him eating a pie, and drops the cigarette off.

“Who is this kid? It even tells me you're the son you hid under the stage. ”

Elvis takes his back off the couch, smiling and saying,

“William, remember that kid I told you about? ”

William twirled his finger around the cigarette case.

“Can you not remember? Don't you think our case is as good as our habits when we drink? Without him, you wouldn't be here right now. I thought his name was Gun and it was a brand-new gun. ”

Elvis points to a prank.

“This is the child I told you about. It's called Kim Gun. ”

William was startled.

William V. Robertson) He was a famous photographer who commissioned the production of Elvis Presley's album jacket from Sam Phillips, president of Sun Records a year ago, emptied out four bottles of Jack Daniel on his first encounter with Elvis and became a mutual friend of Elvis.

William couldn't help but remember the name of the many drinks he had with Elvis. If his friend Elvis didn't have the courage to take one more step on Tennessee's label, there might not be any Elvis now. A young child who appeared at an important time and gave me an epiphany with words of comfort. When Elvis was drunk, the boy who was asleep muttered, wanting to see him again before bed.

William didn't have a shred of apple pie in his hand.

I grabbed the gun with both hands.

“You're the gunner. Nice to meet you. I'm William, a friend of Elvis. ”

Gun stood up to greet William and said hello.

“Hey, mister. My name is Kim Gun. ”

William is an unfamiliar Eastern greeting, but it's what little children do.

I just thought he was a decent kid.

“Yes, yes. You're as cute as I've heard. I wanted to thank my favorite friend in my life for being brave when I met you one day. ”

Gunn had no idea what William meant.

All he did was have a few words with Elvis.

Elvis smiled when he saw that.

“Yes Gun. My little but big friend. Is there anything you want to ask me? Sign, sing, whatever. ”

Gun looked at Elvis like that and said,

“Can you really do anything? ”

Elvis exclaims curiously, thinking how great the child would be.

“Of course! I'm Elvis Presley! The most popular singer in America right now is this body. Tell me anything. I'll be the genie of the lamp for the gunner. ”

I thought about it.

This is a dream anyway. If you ask for something material, you wake up and it's gone.

The material greed has collapsed.

I thought about it for a long time and finally said as though I had decided.

“Mmm · · · Song. I want to be good at singing. ”

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