IGOR: Tyler, The Creator

PUPPET

A month passed.

Tyler was busy with festivals, shows, and meetings. Golfwang's new collection had dropped, and it triggered him every time he had to see Wyatt's face in every passing Golfwang ad, since he was essentially the face of it.

Tyler and some friends biked to Jasper's birthday party, and by the looks of it, it was already packed with people. Made sense since Jasper adored being center of attention: good or bad.

Tyler dropped his bike on the grass in front of Jasper's house, friends following.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY NIGGA!" Tyler shouted, everyone turning to look at him as he gave Jasper a bear hug.

They joked about random shit before Tyler spotted someone walk in. His smile faded, pushing Jasper out of the crowd.

"Nigga you invited Wyatt?!" He half whispered.

"Duh stupid. He's my friend too. Why? Y'all got beef or something?" Jasper laughed, already tipsy.

Fuck, it dawned on  that no one knew about what had happened except him and Wyatt. He brushed it off quickly.

"Nah, I just didn't know he'd be here." Tyler bit his lip as he walked past the crowd, trying to avoid him. But it was too late.

"Tyler?"

T turned around, a fake smile plastered on his face. It hurt seeing him.

"Where's your girlfriend?" he mocked.

Wyatt sighed, licking his lips.

"She couldn't make it."

There was an awkward silence before Wyatt spoke again.

"I saw your bike out there. You wanna get out of here?"

Although Wyatt's attempts of renewing their friendship came off as flirting, Tyler couldn't help but say yes.

"I mean, yeah, I guess."

They went outside, each picking up their bikes as they rode off, each putting in their earphones. They understood talking wasn't necessary and they only needed each other's company. It was all Tyler wanted.

...

"Shit, how long has it been?" T asked as they stopped for a break.

"Uh, an hour," Wyatt checked his phone.

They sat on the curb in front of an old liquor store.

"What have you been up to?" Wyatt asked.

"Same shit. Shows, meetings. You?"

"Picked up a few modeling gigs. Hanging out with friends and shit."

"Sounds boring," Tyler laughed.

"It's boring when you're not around."

Tyler looked at him, then down at the ground. Fuck, he hated when Wyatt did that. It brought him back at his feet. He felt butterflies inside.

"Then you should come around more often," Tyler smiled a little to himself.

"That vest?" Wyatt changed the subject, eyeing Tyler's blue vest.

"It's Gucci nigga. What? You don't like it?"

"It's a little much. Not my style," Wyatt scrunched his face.

"I'll take it off then," Tyler began to slip off the vest. He had a crisp white shirt underneath.

"I'm not telling you to take it—,"

"If you don't like it I don't either."

He threw it across the street. It was a metaphor. The idea that Tyler would give up everything to be able to be with Wyatt. That's what the vest represented.

Wyatt looked down.

"You didn't have to do that."

"You made me do it."

"I didn't even say–,"

"You left me for her."

Wyatt realized what he was alluding to. He let out a sigh.

It was as if Wyatt was still controlling him unknowingly. Tyler kept coming back for more even though he knew it would always end up like this. Wyatt appreciated T as a friend, but there was no infatuation, not like how Tyler felt.

Wyatt's phone buzzed, and he picked it up.

"Morgan?...Yeah, yeah, I'll be there in a bit. Love you too."

Tyler knew he didn't have a chance. It was over.