[The year is 1951. A young Corny Collins has big ideas for his future, and it all starts with one woman. Velma Von Tussle. Eventual CornyxVelma, AmberxLink, AmberxShelley]
Characters in this chapter:
Velma Von Tussle [32]
Cornelius 'Corny' Collins [23]
Amber Von Tussle [6]
"Tiffany, I'm leaving!" Velma announced, her heels clacking against the wood floor of her home. She picked up her clutch bag from the table and popped into the kitchen to see the babysitter, Tiffany, and her daughter, Amber, sitting at the table as Tiffany attempted to feed the six year old her lunch. The two looked up from their task, a wide smile spreading over Amber's face at the sight of her mother with her hair done up and make up on her face.
Velma strode over to the small blonde, taking a napkin from the table and running it over the girls' mouth. "Remember, don't give her too much. If she's still hungry afterwards, there's some carrots in the refrigerator. No dairy, except for milk, and she should be put down for a nap in around an hour." She explained to Tiffany, smoothing down Amber's fair blonde hair.
"Momma, can I play with Shelley?" Amber asked, looking up at Velma with hopeful blue eyes. Velma bit down on her lip hesitantly. She looked at Tiffany, who shrugged her shoulders.
"Sweetie, wouldn't you rather play with Tammy, or Lou Ann?" The older woman asked, bending down so that she was eye level with her daughter.
"But Tammy is playing with Brenda, and Brenda is playing with Paulie, and yesterday Paulie said that he can't play with me because his mommy says that you put tissues in your dress and that's how you married daddy before she did. And Lou Ann is sick." Amber pouted. Velma chewed on the inside of her cheek as she saw Tiffany try to keep her giggles to herself.
Taking a deep breath, Velma looked at the clock and quickly stood up. "I don't have time for this-here." She grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling down Shelley's phone number and handed it to Tiffany. "Call after Amber's had her nap. I love you, Amber." Velma bent down quickly to place a kiss on her daughters head, thanking Tiffany as she made her way out the door.
Cornelius Collins stepped out of his black 1951 Mercedes Benz, grabbing his suitcase from the passenger seat. Bending down, he checked himself in the side mirror, running his tongue over his shiny white teeth. Taking a deep breath, he straightened his bowtie and made his way into the nice restaurant.
"May I help you?" The hostess asked, giving him a friendly smile as he entered.
"Uh, yes, please. I'm looking for…" He trailed off as his eyes wandered around the room and landed on a fair skinned blonde woman sipping on a glass of wine. "Nevermind." Cornelius grinned, walking past the hostess and towards the woman. "Excuse me, um…Ms. Von Tussle?" He asked nervously, not wanting to mess up before he'd even met the woman.
Velma looked up from her glass of wine, and a small smile played at her lips as she looked the young man up and down. "Yes. Please, take a seat, Mr. Collins." She offered, setting her glass down and turning her full attention to him.
Cornelius smiled, taking a seat across from her. "May I?" He asked politely, beginning to remove his jacket. Velma nodded, watching with curiosity as he slipped out of the garment and hung it on the back of his chair. He cleared his throat. "I'd like to start by saying thank you for meeting with me. I've been trying-" Velma cut him off with a hand.
"Let's make this brief, Mr. Collins. Time is of the essence." She sighed, crossing her legs and sitting back in her chair.
"Actually, I'd prefer if you called me Corny." He laughed nervously, reaching for his suitcase and setting it on his lap. Opening it up, he laid out a few papers and set the suitcase back onto the ground by his feet. "Well. When I heard that the WYZT studio had been bought out, and that you were looking for new ideas for the station, my mind instantly began to work. Now, I have three possible ways that the station could earn the ratings that it had been lacking in the past years." Corny stated, sliding three packets towards the woman.
Velma looked at Corny for a moment, before one of her delicate hands reached out and picked up one of the stacks of paper. Her eyes skimmed over it quickly before she set it back down and picked up the second one. As she read it over, her nose scrunched up in distaste, and she looked at the young man with a raised brow. He swallowed nervously, shifting uncomfortably. Velma placed the packet down, and picked up the final one.
Curiosity stirred inside her, and she opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it, and then opened it again. Corny looked at her hopefully, leaning forward in his seat. "And who do you expect to…lead this project?" Velma asked, her interest peaked. Corny sat up proudly.
"Why, myself, of course." He grinned, showing off his white teeth. Velma chewed on the inside of her cheek, looking from the paper to Corny. He fit the description; of course the description that he'd written himself. A young, attractive, charming man who possessed the ability to get anybody up on their feet and was up for a challenge.
"And how would I, or the studio, rather, benefit, from launching this?" The blonde woman asked, taking another sip from her wine.
Corny thought for a moment. "Kids." He stated, shrugging. Velma rolled her eyes, sneering lightly. "Not a fan?" He asked, chuckling. "Think about it, Ms. Von Tussle. With an idea like that, what type of audience do you think we're going to be attracting? Music, dancing, singing…definitely not an older crowd. And there are a lot more kids than adults these days, if you haven't noticed. And more kids equals more ratings. And more ratings equals…" He trailed off, letting her finish the sentence on her own.
"More money." She smiled. "Well, Corny. I think we've got ourselves an idea." Velma reached across the table, meeting Corny halfway and shaking hands. The young man beamed proudly. "Now, how about lunch?" She asked, picking up a menu from the table.