1~

ANY gentleman racer worth his salt in his career was guaranteed to have his share of fans, both male and female, though it was a fact there were more of the latter than the former. There were many girls the world over who would follow the racing scene just so they would know when their favourite guy would be competing for fortune and fame. The young ones who had their crushes would persuade their parents to take them to the designated race while the older girls would just head off on their own to take in all of the sights and sounds of their favourite event of the year.

Cornelia Eldorado was no different. She enjoyed watching races for the mere thrill of the sport, but she also had to admit that she had a crush—a very obvious one too—on her preferred racer, known throughout the country as The Fabulous Hudson Hornet, #51. He had it all, it seemed to her. He was an established champion, already winning the coveted Piston Cup twice in a row, and the most obvious factor to any girl was the fact he was greatly handsome. On the track and off he was stunning for her to look at, but this all improved when he was in action. He was so well-trained on the dirt that he would fly past many others who just didn't have the right stuff. When he was racing, she could see the joy and thrill it brought him reflected in his brilliant blue eyes and that in turn brought her even more joy. Oh yes, she definitely had a crush on him.

Her father, Charles Eldorado, noted his daughter's deep fascination with the racing world and with The Fabulous Hudson Hornet, and he admittedly wasn't that pleased about it. He thought the sport was something for menfolk only and that it wasn't correct for a girl or a woman to get any sort of interest out of it. He especially was cross over her crush. He likely wouldn't have been too serious with this thought if Cornelia simply stayed at home and read the newspapers that reported on the race, but she went to the events. Because she was technically an adult, he had no choice but to let her do what she wanted, but that still didn't mean he had to be happy about that. No sir, he sure wasn't.
Cornelia's mother, Mary Ellen, worried over her daughter's passion also, but was powerless to change her mind. All she hoped was that eventually Cornelia would get past this crush and start worrying about that nice Packard in town who was sweet on her. Mary Ellen wondered when Cornelia would ever notice him…

Meanwhile, Cornelia dreamed day and night about her all-time favourite racer. She counted down the days till his next race would begin. She listened to the radio racing reports for anything she could have possibly missed. In her mind, no racer would ever match up to her Hudson… yes, she admittedly thought of him in terms like that. Like any young girl with a crush, she also spent those minutes before falling asleep picturing herself with a future new last name, no matter how impossible it would seem to get it.
Cornelia Hornet...
A smile made its way across her front as it always had.
Mrs. Cornelia Hornet.

THE Fabulous Hudson Hornet, or simply his first name of "Hudson" which he preferred to be called over that long title, wasn't blind towards the many female fans he had, but one stood out more than all the others. She was there at his races always, a jade-green Cadillac who always tried to park herself at the very front row so as to see the action the best. She cheered like most of them did at the events, but she didn't scream like the youngest girls did. He found that a little uncommon, but it wasn't unwelcome. If you asked him point-blank to be honest about whether or not he thought he was a handsome car, he admitted that he "guessed" he was; the utter egotism of some of his competitors kept that sort of thought pattern in check in the long run. The way some of the racers went on about how "amazing" they were truthfully disgusted him. If he ever started dropping talk like that, he told his manager to he'd have to go find him an attitude adjustment. He considered himself pretty dang lucky to have the success he did and he sure didn't want to start getting pompous over it anytime soon.

When the 1953 racing season came around, Cornelia committed the dates to memory and then took off to the track. Charles watched his daughter's retreating form on the road until it disappeared and then turned back inside with a grumble.

"That daughter of yours needs to get her fender out of this fantasy she has. Does she honestly think that fool would give her the time of day?! Is that what she's even thinking?!" he demanded to Mary Ellen.

His wife sighed and answered, "I don't know, Charley. I don't know why she is so… obsessed. I'm worried about her too, you know."

"Worried ain't solving anything. As soon as she gets back here, I'm setting down the line more than ever that if she goes to one more race, she's getting kicked out of here!"

"Charles! You wouldn't!" Mary Ellen exclaimed, shocked.

"I just might if she keeps up with this nonsense behaviour!"

"Well, I agree it's not really the best interest for her either, but doesn't kicking her out seem a little… harsh? I'm just hoping we can get her sights on Mr. Treadwell. He is an awfully nice fella."

"You and that Packard…" Charles muttered before turning his attention back to the small television in the corner.

Meanwhile, Cornelia was cruising towards her destination, so glad to attend yet another race that she offered a cheery smile towards any other motorists coming her way. Nothing could dampen her mood now.