causers of this | tyler, the creator [+18] | semi-hiatus (???)

inside of clouds

The months following the release of Cherry Bomb were definitely eventful.

I resumed my position as manager and lead designer at my art and marketing firm I created in Hollywood for celebrity clients looking for help with their brand direction and audience. After what happened with Frank initially with the whole secret relationship thing, Kelly and Clancy understood my decision to resign as their marketing assistant and encouraged me to find a way to do what I loved. So I took their advice and built OUTRAGE from the bottom up, starting with doing social media marketing for friends that I'd made in the business. Eventually it just blossomed into me licensing my brand and creating a little office in downtown LA. The Between the Sheets tour was my first high profile project since working with Frank, and the gross profit numbers were amazing.

As soon as I made it known I was back in California, the amount of people that wanted to work with me was more than I'd ever experienced. I was fully prepared to take care of my baby, to throw myself into my work since that was more satisfying than how shitty my personal life had become since this breakup. So I'd been working, consistently, diligently, for the past five months.

But not today, though.

The sun was flooding into Tyler's windows, making the attic space he claimed as his bedroom look even bigger and more lofty than it normally did.

I scrolled through Instagram, Fenty lounge shoes hanging off my feet as they bounced to L$D softly playing on a sound system nearby. It felt a little weird to not be checking my calendar every five minutes, but I knew today was the day to be the good friend I promised I'd be when I got back in town.

The stretchy threads underneath me ebbed with movement, and I looked over. Tyler shifted to his back and sighed, jaw tight as he actively ignored the text notifications on his phone. He let it fall out of his hands and on the soft blue carpet underneath us.

We were laid out on his trampoline.

"Are you...okay?"

I knew he was still pissed from getting into yet another argument with the group but so far since we'd been laying here he hadn't uttered a word about it.

Watching Thebe's mental health decline seemed to be hard on the whole Odd Future camp lately. His strained relationship with his dad was getting worse which was taking a toll on him emotionally. And to make matters worse, we all noticed how he upped his doses of recreational drugs and added Xanax to the mix.

But everyone was dealing with their own shit too, so no one really knew how to handle it.

Frank was using the front of "not feeling comfortable being around" after firing the Clancy's to be inconsistent with keeping contact, when honestly he had fallen similarly into depression and substance abuse. I knew he was probably scared shitless of his drinking problem being put out on front street in the process of trying to help Earl so he was making the choice to not deal with any of it. Hodgy and Left were blatantly not answering Tyler's phone calls. Domo didn't want to take sides so he was off doing his own thing. Syd had a new album she was using as an excuse to not deal with it. Mike G honestly just fell off the face of the earth.

And when everyone did get together, their conflicting opinions on the matter at hand seemed to just start more arguments.

In one of their first shouting matches, Hodgy slipped up and said some foul shit I assumed he been feeling for a while: that Ty was acting 'too Hollywood' to fuck with them.

It was no surprise that Tyler was becoming more of a household name. But him feeling too good to hang out with them couldn't be anything further from the truth.

Since releasing his album in April, he was doing back to back promo appearances, finished an international tour where he was the only one in charge of designing merch along with finishing the new fall/winter season of Golf Wang, and he only had a couple weeks back home before starting another tour, this one with Rocky.

He knew how fleeting the entertainment industry could be. Tyler's worst fear was going broke and not being able to take care of his family, so he just kept churning out ideas. He was good at that.

So he never stopped working. As soon as he was done with one thing, he moved on to the next.

And the more he tried to motivate his friends to do the same and focus on their careers instead of shit like drugs, women, or any other distractions, the more he felt them distance themselves from him, not the other way around.

The bitterness was rooted so deep and infected everything they built. They eventually made the decision to disband, which sent a ripple through social media when Ty decided to vaguely tweet about it a couple weeks after.

@fucktyler: although it's no more, those 7 letters are forever.

It seemed like the saying 'more money more problems' was true.

"Nah, 'cause niggas still acting like I was fucked up for not wanting to be around and watch the nigga fucking kill himself. I'm fully off that." Tyler replied irritably, knocking his hat off and rubbing the top of his head.

I shook my head, turning to face him.

"You're not wrong. It's hard watching someone you love... like that. It affects you, like - why is all the love and support I give you not enough...why am I not enough?"

It felt weird to say that out loud after thinking it over and over, for so long. After spending months feeling like a failure. After making the decision to slowly unlearn the behavior again. After having to constantly remind myself of the complete opposite so guilt didn't consume me, and turn me into somebody else too.

I didn't mean to take it there. But he finally could understood in some ways why I reacted the way I did with Frank.

Sensing that this was a heavy topic for me, Tyler went quiet, having that moment of realization. He spoke, somber.

"Sometimes you just gotta get the fuck away, right? Before you put all the blame and shit yourself?"

I nodded. He had this weird way of reading my mind at times and saying shit I would probably never have the guts to.

"Yeah."

Feeling a lump in my throat, I decided to just stop there.

It was silent again aside from his playlist and he pulled me into his chest for a hug.

We kinda just stayed like that for a while, comforting each other. My body released all the tension I'd been holding, and I wrapped my arm around his back.

A couple songs later he sat up abruptly, pulling me up to my feet on the trampoline.

"Fuck all that sad shit. Have some fun with me."

I was a bit reluctant at first, but Ty managed to convince me to start jumping with him, chasing him around the trampoline.

The springs gently ebbed underneath me as I shyly bounced, earning a quick side eye from him before he laughed to himself, knowing I was overthinking it. He grabbed my hands, his kind smile making me forget all my problems and insecurities and just jump.

My hair swung freely in the air once I gained momentum, and the feeling of floating just for a few moments at a time was so euphoric I couldn't not smile.

He kept urging me higher and higher, trying to keep up with him and his long legs.

Tyler strummed along his imaginary guitar to Chamber of Reflection mid flip, before tripping over his own feet and landing flat on his back. His laughter was yellow, ringing out and warming the air around us as his long limbs flailed around.

I bounced down on my knees next to him giggling, out of breath. My heart felt lighter than it had in awhile.

Grabbing my hand, he kissed the back of it.

"Everything will be okay. Don't stress about shit, cause I'm not. Just lemme know when you need a break, and I'll take your mind off it."

I nodded.

"You too."

We locked pinkies.