Author's Note: This idea is 100% fictional. Get some popcorn and tissues, everybody!
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1987 – The Penthouse, California
BRENDA
Angel King and Valerie Mitchell sat chair to chair across from journalist Diane Sawyer.
I almost screamed out loud with tears in my eyes. Michael sighed and leaned back once more as Valerie wiped away sadness on screen. Angel looked on in total silence just before the camera focused on Diane Sawyer. In between her professional words, footage and pictures of me flashed onto the televsion.
As if my dreams hadn't crumbled before, this one interview would probably change everything.
Diane Sawyer: Hello, I'm Diane Sawyer. Over the span of two years, vocalist Brenda Hughes moved from popular Soul Train dancer to a nearly rejected and struggling artist. In the next hour, you'll hear accounts from two of Brenda's biggest rivals. As a viewer, take their perspectives and form your own opinions. As a safeguard, explicit language has been edited out in the name of viewer discretion.
My archive shots and mixed in pictures had faded out to reveal Valerie and Angel sitting with crossed legs and even somber faces. Diane busied herself by scribbling almost diligently on a notepad. I lowered my head in damn near prayer as Michael rubbed my back in circles again.
Not once did I look up before any of the women spoke up again. Only sniffles heaved from my nose before I finally decided to face the screen again. Even my squared glasses fogged right up. There was only a silence before I forced myself to sit up on this damn couch.
Sawyer: I'm here with Ms. Angel King and Valerie Mitchell. Welcome, ladies.
Mitchell and King: Thank you.
Sawyer: (Camera cuts to show Diane glancing downward at her notepad. Her gaze then looks to face between Mitchell and King) Valerie, why have you and Angel come forward?
Mitchell: (Camera zooms in on Valerie. She sighs out loud and lowers her head. A faint sniffle leaves her nose) I've worked on that amazing show for years. What if a brand-new intern stole your dream job? Angel's here as support for me, but she has stories about Brenda as well, and they're not pretty.
Sawyer: (Nods slowly with wrinkled brows and clears her throat before facing Valerie once more.) When did you believe that Brenda didn't enter Soul Train fairly?
Mitchell: (Valerie puffs out invisible air while facing the ceiling as she uncrosses her legs. Camera pans toward the right as Angel King looks on, still silent. Valerie finally looked to concentrate on Sawyer.) It started when producers wanted Brenda to center the floor and even begin the Soul Train lines. Almost two weeks before she made a splash there, I started things off, Diane (Valerie holds onto heart and Angel lowers her eyes) The backburner hurt. A lot.
Sawyer: So, you were the star before Brenda came along? Is that what you're saying? I'm just trying to understand before any other questions start.
Mitchell: Yes ma'am. And the worst part was that no one negotiated with me or her as a team (Valerie lifts hands) I would've been perfectly fine if Don met up with Brenda and I personally and allowed both of us to have equal screen-time. Instead, I got stuck with the "Scrabble Board" segments and dancing in the circular railings. These shots only last a few minutes or something. On the other hand, excuse my language, but that awkward and raunchy bitch gets ass shots in the middle of the floor once the music starts. It's disrespectful considering that I'm a veteran for that show in one way or another.
Sawyer: But why charge the animosity? (Diane tosses out her hands) If the main issue was negotiating with producers, why hate Brenda?
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King: (Shakes head) Because Valerie worked her ass off to get there and Brenda took off with her career at the wrong time. No one gets famous overnight without (Uses air-quotes) benefits. The world knew Brenda's name within a month or two. How stupid is that?
Fed up, I choked on tears before turning off the televsion. My steps moved away from Michael as I planned to slam the door. From inside, the slam echoed, but I heard Michael knocking. I'd already slid down this same door. Tears flooded my eyes by now.
It was finally over.
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MICHAEL
"Babe, I gotta go. See you tonight, okay?" For the first time in years, my best friend wouldn't even get out of bed. After resting beside her I'd leaned for a soft kiss on the back of her neck. Even then, she just grumbled into the pillows under her chin.
Not long after almost locking herself into our bedroom, B moved straight into crisis mode. Almost eleven at night if I remember correctly. Case in point, her voice turned rough after battling with publicist Kelly and manager Reggie through phone-tag last night.
"Fuck this." Brenda almost screamed into the pillow. "I'm going home." I
In that moment, I froze, but straightened my back. My heart pounded in the name total fear. My steps hurried before I knelt in front of her side of the bed. Even if she wouldn't face me, I felt terribly desperate. "What? What about this place?"
Brenda finally lifted her head, but only faced the headboards "I'll make payments for two months and stay in New Jersey. I'm just exhausted, so let me leave. Don't ask questions." That accent emerged of course.
I shook my head. "Babe..."
"No!" Brenda almost growled and slammed her face right back into the pillow.
