David Turner was grinning from ear to ear as he turned the set off in his office. He knew the industry was watching. He also knew that they were sweating.
Young Justyn had done it. “They” were willing to write off the coups he arranged as beginner’s luck. “They” had assumed that his brilliant stroke of turning the abysmal “Sebastian Manor” into a not miss laugh riot was desperation paying off.
“America Alive” was the first thing that would actually have Justyn’s fingerprints all over it. Too bad “They” didn’t realize if Ian knew how to do anything it was make a news format entertaining and informative and a success. He’d taken a barely watched hour in the afternoon in a tiny market and turned it into a dynamo that was outpacing anything networks could churn out. That’s what had got him to Hollywood in the first place.
Granted it was only the first outing, but “America Alive” went from snooze fest to a morning jolt of fresh coffee in the first five minutes. It was fast paced, funny, irreverent and above all direct. By the end of the program, everyone one watching knew when to tune in for the news; unslanted, unbiased and just the facts. They also knew that in between those details was a wild ride at break neck speed.
Turner wondered how many people were late for work because they couldn’t take their eyes off of HRT at 6 in the morning. There was no doubt that before too long their bottom feeder morning news would be a killer in the ratings. He also had no doubt that by the end of the summer; the other networks would be trying to imitate it.
He’d had no doubt at all. He had just wondered when the rest of the world would catch on to the fact that Ian Justyn was more than a pretty face and a sound bite magnet. The man knew what he was doing. All Turner had to do now was sit back and let him do it.
Oh, the blood bath in September would be such sweet revenge. Too long HRT had been considered the Miss America pageant of networks. While his rivals had acknowledged Young Justyn’s knack for scoring the hottest talent available, they done little more than give the new schedule a nice pat on the head and say “How adorable”.
“Adorable is about to rip them all a new one.” He said to himself.
Turner swiveled the chair in his penthouse office around to gaze outside. He hadn’t felt this sure and this confident since he couldn’t remember when…yes he could. It was a long time ago…
…Somehow Lucille had done it again. It wasn’t a huge premiere. There wasn’t a big company with endless pockets to back it up. None of the stars or the director were household names, but some how Lucille had managed to pack the place with as many big names as she could cajole, beg or blackmail into being there.
There hadn’t been an empty seat in the house. He had to admit while standing in the back of the house waiting for “Breathe” to begin, he was holding his breath. The crowd was restless and noisy, barely noticing that the movie had begun.
It didn’t take long, before they grew silent. At first he thought it might just be respect for someone who might actually want to see it.
Then she appeared on the screen, and as many times as he’d already seen it, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He was transfixed, and as soon as he was able again to take his eyes away, he knew the audience was transfixed, too. And then not just by her, but by the movie itself. He’d done well.
And now he stood in the midst of everyone in the ballroom rented for the after party. Every phone in town must have been busy during the screening because suddenly all of Hollywood was trying to crash the wet bar. They had done it, damn; they’d managed to pull it out of the fire.
“You look like the fat feline with yellow feathers in his mouth.” Someone said from behind him.
He turned to see the face with the voice. Lucille stood dutifully arm in arm with her husband James. “Well, Mr. Turner looks like our labor of love has paid off.”
David put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Well, Mr. Redfield, I think we can both rest easy tonight.”
Lucille looked around him. “Where is she?”
They panicked. “She was right here just a moment ago.” Turner searched the room with his eyes frantically.
“Calm down.” Redfield tried to calm them. “She’s probably hiding in the bathroom. She’s scared to death, poor thing.”
“I’ll go get her.” Lucille smirked. “Scared or not, she needs to be seen.” Before she headed for the john she hissed at Turner. “And as soon as I drag that idiot back here, don’t let her out of your sight until we figure out what to do with her.”
“What to do with her?” Turner asked.
“One wrong word to the wrong person, hell to the right person and this night of triumph turns into a nightmare.” Lucille just had to remind him.
Despite the wall-to-wall superstar, it didn’t take Lucille long to get back from the facilities. “She’s not in there.”
“What?”
“Find her, damn it, find that woman!” Lucille snarled as quietly as possible. “It can’t be hard to find a moron in the room.”
“Oh great, we have to find the beagle in a room full of brown and white puppies.” Redfield looked as discreetly as possible around the ballroom.
Turner saw a familiar face. He grabbed the man’s arm. “Herman, have you seen your sister?”
“No, not recently.” Lucille gave him a look that made the man panic. “Look she’s scared to death, always hated crowds and attention. She’s just found a corner to hide in. You should know she does that by now.”
“Great.” Lucille said. “We’ve got our new star trembling behind the drapes. I’m not paying for the dry cleaning if she blows her nose on them.”
Elysian pointed. “There she is.”
“Where?” Turner craned his neck to see where he was pointing.
“On the bandstand.”
“I’ll go get her.” Redfield volunteered.
“No.” Turner put up his hand. “Let me.”
“Hurry, before she gets away. Hedda Hopper’s here, the last person on Earth you want her talking to, and you know that bitch wants to talk to her.” Lucille shoved him in the direction of the bandstand.
“She’ll be fine.” Herman defended his sister. “She’s loves music. It calms her down. She’s probably just enjoying it.” He grabbed Turner’s arm. “Let me go with you, just in case she is having another meltdown. I can usually keep her calm.”
“Then go.” Lucille urged them on with her hands. “Don’t talk about defusing the bomb when it’s about to go off. Just choose a color and yank the wire…NOW!”
She was so glad there was music. She loved music. She had made her way near the band and was swaying back and forth humming to the song. How she wanted to get closer to it and farther away from them.
Well, most of them. They kept making her do things she didn’t want to do. That woman was the worst of all. She was mean and she frightened her. The two men were sweet though, and she kept letting them talk her into doing want the mean woman wanted. She couldn’t help it if it kept making her cry.
She hated that monstrosity they called a camera. It kept getting too close and every time she would start to enjoy herself, it would be there. It was horrible.
But the bandstand had a bright silvery microphone. She’d always liked microphones. Her Daddy would never let her near one.
“Music is of the devil. It will drag you down to hell with it.” He would say anytime he heard he sing.
She was glad no one noticed her step up on the stage. The man at the piano had smiled at her, so she stepped right up and sat down beside him. He never missed a beat; his fingers kept right on running across the keyboard.
When she heard a few people giggle, she almost got up and ran but the piano man said, “You stay right there, hon. This is your night. Enjoy it.”
It made her feel so warm inside. She didn’t know what he meant, but she thought it meant she could stay where she was. So she did. The man nodded his head and started playing another song.
It was so beautiful she forgot she was somewhere she shouldn’t be. She did know that her Daddy wasn’t anywhere near anymore. Herman had taken her away from that awful man. Remembering that made her smile and close her eyes.
Then she started to sing. She knew all the words and sang right along. It felt so nice. It felt so good. She hadn’t felt that way in a long, long time.
They had managed to make their way to the bandstand. Herman and David, James and Lucille not far behind, had managed to get there without anyone noticing they were desperate to get to the new starlet. Another few steps and either David or Herman could speak quietly to her, hopefully getting her to take an arm and not let go for the rest of the night.
David was about to reach up to her when, again, a hand grabbed his arm.
“Wait.” Lucille said. She nodded her head toward the shy bird on the piano stool. “Listen.”
Turner turned his ear toward the stage. His eyes grew wide and he shot a glance toward Redfield and his wife.
Lucille was smiling. “I think I know what to do with her.”
“What?” Her husband whispered.
“We can keep this up.” The woman was almost smiling, something Turner wasn’t sure he’d ever seen. “Who knows where this could take us?”
She opened her eyes and saw them looking at her. She knew they would make her stop so she was going to enjoy this as long as she could. Surely, they’d at least wait for the song to end before they dragged her back.
“You have a beautiful voice, my dear.” The piano man said.
“Thank you. I like to sing.” She blushed and said quietly. “You play beautifully.”
“Well, I am Ralston Scott. That’s what they pay me to do.”
“Okay.” She had no idea what he meant, but she glanced down at the mean lady and that nice man her brother called Dave. She knew her safe time was almost up.
“Sing something else.” The piano man said.
“Me?”
“Of course you.”
“Alright. What should I sing?”
“Anything you want.” He said.
She looked to see if they were frowning, but that silvery microphone got in the way. She pointed at it. “Can I sing there?”
“Of course.” The piano man seemed to think that was a funny thing to say.
She didn’t care. She got up and went right to that microphone. “Uhm…”
The boom of her voice suddenly made everyone in the room stop and look at her. At first it scared her, but she reached out and held on to the silver. She turned to the piano man and asked. “Do you know ‘Ever After Blue Sky’?”
“I should. I wrote it.”
“Okay.” She said.
There was some laughter, but it was not going to make her run this time. She was going to sing. She heard the notes of her favorite song and closed her eyes.
When her mouth opened she could hear herself clear and strong. It was wonderful. When she opened her eyes no one was laughing, but they were all looking at her. They were all looking at her and she could feel how much they liked her song. It made her want to sing more. She did.
They applauded. They applauded her when she finished. She couldn’t believe it. She just stood there and smiled. She didn’t know what else to do.
“Tell us your name again, hon,” The piano man said making her turn her head to him.
“My name is…”
He motioned for her to turn around and say her name in the silvery microphone so everyone could hear. “My name is…I…”
They caught her eye. Those three people and her brother were standing right there in front of her. The mean woman frowned, but the man named Dave smiled and nodded is head.
She remembered.
“My name is Darla…Darla Hutton.”
And Dave knew without a doubt, that a star was born.
No comments:
Post a Comment