Category - Drama/Comedy
Rating - R(Language, mature themes, sexuality)
Cast - Whitney,Fox, Ethan, Simone, Carla, Miguel, Eve, Julian
T.C, Chad,Teresa...



Summary: Whitney if you don't wake up and smell the coffee someone else will, and there'll be no more room for excuses...As hard as Whitney Russell tries, she can't seem to avoid the inevitable, but will she follow the right path, hers?

The Divine Intervention.






Prologue:
Okay … so you’re heart broken.
You sit around moping,
Cryin’ and cryin’
Said you even thinking’ bout dying!?
Well - before you do anything rash,
Dig this:

Everybody plays the fool, sometimes
There’s no exception to the rule
Listen baby
May be factual,
May be cruel
Everybody plays the fool…

- Marvin Gaye.


You’re what?



I’m leaving Whitney. I’m sorry - I’ve been trying to work this out. I really have, I’ve been trying but I can’t. Things just ain’t the same ‘tween us no more. I just don’t - God damn … Whitney, I … just don’t think -



You don’t love me anymore. That’s what it is isn’t it?



This isn’t your fault. You know that Whitney, it’s nobody’s. We was just two dumb kids when we got married, once we got to New York we just changed into different people. That’s only natural right -



When?



When, what, Whitney?



Don’t do this to me Chad! Tell me! Was it when I moved in with you back in Harmony - was it when I left my life and my family for you, was it when we moved here! Was it when we bought this damn house! Tell me!!? Chad because I’m really confused.



Whitney, please…



When did you stop loving me, Chad. --- because … you know, if I remember right - we weren’t ‘ two dumb kids,’ Chad. We were two people. Two people who loved each other. Two people that made a promise? You remember that - because I do, and as far as I’m concerned that was never supposed to change.





It did.



She couldn’t hardly believe it herself, but it did.



And slowly with the pitying eyes, he’d left her sitting in the middle of their apartment, alone. The place where she’d been for the past three days. She’d tried to persuade herself to move, to show herself and Chad that this couldn’t ruin her, but it was. Chad was everything to her, and she’d been willing to and did let her life slip as insignificant for him, and now, he indiscreetly told her that he wasn’t in love with her anymore. That he was a changed man, and that they were both moving in different directions.



She couldn’t move. She didn’t want to.



She was shell-shocked .



Chad’s leaving was happening in a slow motion. One that she couldn’t stop or even understand. How could she have spent years fighting for a relationship, that he’d be just as soon to give away in a matter of days? How could he just wake up one morning and decide not to love the woman who’d stuck by him, through thick or thin? How could she not have seen this?



It was evident when she managed to pick herself up to slug towards the door, that it was because she loved him that she didn’t see anything coming. She didn’t want to. It was because she still loved him she opened the door.



“Come in, Chad.”



“Thanks.” He murmured, passing his eyes over her as he shuffled in. He stuffed his balled up fists in the pit of his pockets, as he stared from across the living room. He looks better than she’d expected, Whitney observed, clean shaven, rested, covered. He seems void, he is. She couldn’t even stop herself from wondering if he was feeling the same way that she was.



“Sit down.” She offered pointing towards the crepe, lover’s seat, facing the window. It was their favourite. “Please,” She went on towards his reluctance.



Silence.



“How have you been?”



“Alright. I guess, considering. You?”



“Fine. Whitney,” He replied cold and calculated. Eyes taking everything in like their place had suddenly become foreign. “You sure?” He pried. “ The apartment, looks a mess. You have no colour in your skin -” He took a more observant look at the surrounding. The window must have been opened since he left, because all of Whitney’s papers flew around the room, along with mail. The dishes, he’d left in the sink were still in their spot. Whitney’s whole demeanour, was rumpled if it not been only her clothes, something was definitely wrong here. “You look awful,”



“That’s the considering Chad. I did just loose a husband,” She scoffed on the outside. Standing, although she felt his gaze, the look that she hoped to be some sort of concern. She knew it had to be, he wouldn’t have come back if it hadn’t been.



She knew Chad Harris, both of them, and the one that she’d married was sitting in their apartment again, shaken on the inside, and past his masked eyes he was trying to figure out some way to bring them back together. That had to be it.



“Doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to care ‘bout you.”



“Chad?” She whispered, her hand combing her hair. Her eyes growing child-like wide.



“Look I’m sorry, ‘bout hurting you like I did.” He admits in the gruff, blatant way he would when he was her Chad Harris, his hand still in his pockets as he faced her breaths apart, and her hands ached to touch him from her crossed arms. “It wasn’t any fair, ‘specially to you.”



“It’s alright, baby.” Her tone dips below audible, as her fingertips graze his cotton collar, fixing in the tender way she would, as she searched his eyes. Her head resting on his shoulder as he squeezed. “It’s alright,” She whispered, to both of them, three days their world almost ended as she knew it. Now it was only going to be some distant memory, beginning of the end. From this day forward Chad was going to change, she knew he would - he loved her. Really and truly, completely. They were going to show everyone that. No more distance, no more hurt. “All of this is just going to make us better, you’ll see. All we need to do is talk it through and it’ll be better, I promise.”



When he pulls away, she’d expected him to agree. When he shook his head and puts his fists to his eyes and sat, she sat close. Fingertips trailing down the nape of his neck to sooth him. This was hard, she knew it from the way he acted. When he looked up she gave a teary smile, giving him time to collect himself. She’ll give him all the time he needs, because that was all it took to make things better.



“Whitney, you got this all wrong.”



“I know. You were just - stressed. You didn’t know what you were saying.” She squeezed. “I understand.”



“No. No, listen Whit, you don’t.” He says softly, grasping her shoulders tight, shaking his head. “Whitney, I - didn’t come here to get back together. I don’t want to get back together, I meant everything I said. Just came to get the rest of my things.”




This couldn’t be real. It wasn’t. “But you said,” He said that he cared, he wanted to know how she was, he held her the way he used to. The way Chad Harris used to, she was standing now, her hand shoving hair from her face as she paced. “It doesn’t make any sense.”



“I know.” He soothed, as she flinched away crying the tears she’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry. “You just got that all wrong, and I’m sorry - I really am. Listen, I wasn’t gon’ say this but I love you - so I’ll just go head.” He pressed his lips together, folding his arms as she watched. He didn’t care. He never did - it was all over his face, he was grinning over some kind of masked solemn attitude that he carried. It was almost too sickening to watch. “Get over it.”



“Excuse me?”



“Get over me. This whole thing. Fix yourself up, clean the house - go out.” He says, standing, smiling, refreshed that he’d gotten it out of his chest, as Whitney sat. “Sitting in this place obviously isn’t doing you any sort of good.” Winded, confused, pissed.



Basically what everything had boiled down to was Chad. She was living, for Chad. Supporting Chad. Forsaking all others, for Chad. Which, in all, happened to be a terrible move on her part.



“Baby?” Baby, baby, baby!? There were no more chills to be felt, not even a butterfly left. Just a fast acting repulsion, as he repeats the words. Anger not too far behind, because it never sank in as to why Chad was trying so hard to calm her down like he’d cared when he was the one who was leaving her. After three years of a marriage, she’d worked for and eight years of a relationship that she’d fought for - he was leaving her.



Snap.



“Ow!” Chad veered away clasping his bleeding nose. He looked at his hand, eyes wide with horror when he realizes he’d been punched, and by Whitney no less. “Whitney! Siht!” He hissed backing away from another hook as he collapsed to the floor.



“Get out.” She spoke calmly, becoming aware of the knife in the kitchen, the iron metal clad bat down the hall, the crystal figurines above her head. Everything she saw became a weapon and if Chad stayed any longer she was going to jail.



“Whitney!”



“Now. Get off yo’ ass, and get out. I don‘t care about you getting you‘re stuff, I don‘t care about your apologies. Looking at you is making me sick, now get out.”



“But I’m bleeding.”



“I could give a fcuk! Get out!” She screeches, her hair flailing her shirt falling off her shoulders. She didn’t care anymore. He backs away as her feet fly in the air, intentions of it ruining his face, ribs, arm and legs in her mind.



“I’m sorry.”



“Oh - ho that’s the last fcuking thing you wanna tell me right now, Chad. Get out! OUT! OUT! OUT!” She shoved until he was at the other end of her door. Staring at his bloodied face, and heaving body. Whitney was sure she’d be able to get over him.



“Damn the least you could do is help me out. I am bleeding, if yo’ messed up ass couldn’t see that!”



“Fcuk You!” More than able.



She shoved once more for measure, before her front door slammed in his face. Before she could realize she was treading down the hall, shuffling through her closet. Looking for anything and everything that could have belonged to him.




First it was all the clothes , she’d bought for him, and then it was that trifling gold CD that made him so damn proud, then it was everything that could have possibly meant anything in the world to him. Everything. All of it, into a box - as she treaded on her feet towards the balcony and tipped it all down a twelve story building. All of it, smashing against the granite, as she smiled tipping the box over as well, sweeping her hands clean as walked away.


Happy .

Satisfied.

Light.

This was her Divine Intervention.



Yet still, she looked at the apartment that was now hers with a sense of restlessness. Everything truly was in a mess, but she’d fix that soon enough. She stole long, hungry breaths, as she picked up some stray papers and tuned the radio in.


It was over.

They were over.

Whitney Harris was over.



“Over” The words sunk in, as she tapped her fingernails against the counter. Over, as she sung along to the radio. Over, when she heard Chad scream up to her.



She needed to remember this moment. Stock it deep in her mind as the day her life started. It was a Saturday. Four o’clock … there was a sale a Macy’s, Marvin Gaye was playing and some guy named Foxworth was about to inherit more money than he should.



“No way” She’d sung to the radio like common conversation.



She’d never forget that.

(Rated R for language.)
One:



Sydney Brussels’s Divine Intervention
As written by: Whitney Russell.
Prologue:




Okay! I’m going to be completely honest with you here.


Being single ain’t as great as they say it is.


It’s dismal, awful -- it “sucks“ if you‘ll allow me to connect with my teenage self.


Siht ... not to mention expensive, as all hell.


Especially if you’re me. Right now.



That divorce settlement. It was hell to say the least of it, but gratefully quick. This, of course being all on the count of my husband, Thad, being uncharacteristically less of an idiot to realize I didn’t want to spend years, fighting over things that were technically already mine.


See that was one thing that I learned out of all of this, after things had been over and done with: I was the only one keeping this marriage on its feet.


Me.

Sydney Brussell.

Me and me alone.



You know, Thad really hadn’t done much for me in the eight years that we were married.. In fact, in our marriage, it didn’t even matter that his ass was a blooming about to be a multi-millionaire music producer mogul on the rise, or that I was some bumbling showcase wife - turned journalist. It still never compelled or even at the most “inspired” him to even think about doing poo for me that I couldn’t very fcuking well do myself.



So … basically he was useless and everyone knew that except for me.

Why?

Because I was young. Stupid and in love.


But not anymore. No way.



And you know what else? I can do this. Be alone. Independent, even, if I really worked at it. Why the hell couldn’t I? I was exactly that before Thad came along, I can be that now.


I will.


Shoot, it won’t even be that hard. I mean I’ve got things going for me ---- I’m smart, beautiful … mildly talented.


You know what, of course I’m gonna make it on my own.


Just fine.


Better than fine.



That’s what I’d said to myself, when I finally realized that everything everyone ever told me about Thad Farris was absolutely true.


He was a waste.


Of time and money.


Especially money.



And I just had to learn that the hard way.



Did you know, in the eight years that we were married I was supporting everything that he wanted?


Everything.


Nothing was too much .


I mean, I got out money I would have never had on a regular to move us to New York, when he said “ Baby. This is the only way I’ll make it.” and I was the one who paid for him to be in all the right places at all the right times when he told me. “ Come on Whitney, being here is the only way I’ll ever get to see the inside of a music company …


Siht, you know I even paid for this apartment, I called it a “gift” for all of his “hard work” . Paid the bill each month, every month.



No. He never gave me nothing.

On all means.



Which should have left me happy right? I mean Thad had nothing, and I had everything. That should have been what I’d wanted because finally I got the chance to make him feel if not only some kina … iota of the pain he’d caused me, but I couldn’t.



You see the, Thad Farris I’d met had nothing. And that was exactly how he’d left, with nothing. All in exception with that old raggedy brown suitcase, that I just hated, and that damn messed up pair of jeans that he’d always insisted on wearing …


Oh and of course, some heifer that was obviously much more entertaining that I could have ever been… so I guess, Thad really did have everything. The bastard. And I was left with next to nothing, and when I say that I mean not in the possession sense but in the sense that’d always mattered to me, the sense that I’d begged for him to give to me, but never could.


Happiness.


Love.


Completion.


He had it all without … without me. Which means, he could have been living in a cardboard box, and I could have been living in the fcuking Ritz, and his bitch ass would still be so fucking overjoyed.


You know why?

Because my ass wouldn’t be there to ruin it.

He didn’t want me. I don’t really know if he ever did.

He grew out of loving me --- when loving him was the only thing that was keeping me breathing at the time. Funny how that all happens.



But I’m alright now.

Yeah.

Much better. Better than I’ve ever been.

I guess you could say that everything is as clear as day now.



So that’s why I have to get myself a life. A new one. One that would give me all of the purpose , being with Thad took away from me all those years … one that would make me forget about how stupid I was.



And that’s when it came to me.



Here on the floor of this damn apartment suite while I was bawling in the worst friggin’ snot provoking way.



That’s when I got my, as they would call it, epiphany. That, “ Divine Intervention”




So … I guess this is where my story begins.