Best Interest: Tyler, The Creator & Wyatt

7. Daylight

"Hello?"

He picked up the phone.

"I texted you yesterday to come pick up your shit and you didn't."

"I told you I'd pick it up this weekend." Wyatt walked to class.

"I'm having people over. I need this shit out."

"Emily I can't, I'm going to class right now."

"Then I'll leave it outside. If they steal your shit it's not my fault."

"Why are you being like this? Just fucking leave it there."

"I'm seeing someone and I don't want him to see your shit. It'll be outside."

"Emily wait—Fuck just—hello? Fuck."

Emily had already hung up.

He was fuming mad, the fact that she treated him so disposable pissed him off.

Wyatt opened the door to lecture as everyone's eyes landed on him.

"Ten minutes late. Next time it'll be locked," Tyler looked at the students, "That goes for everyone."

Wyatt rolled his eyes, making his way to his seat—Alexa sitting in it. He stopped in his tracks.

"That's my—whatever," Wyatt looked around for an empty seat.

"Sorry, I thought you weren't coming today." Syd looked up at him. She had offered Alexa his seat for the day.

He sighed. The fuck else could go wrong?

"Navarro, it's a seat over here." Tyler pointed to the front row. You could tell his tone was becoming more irritated.

Wyatt sat down, sighing and sinking into the seat.

Tyler continued with the lecture, stopping every so often to ask whoever looked disinterested a question. He always made sure his words weren't going through deaf ears—his time was precious, and he hated when it was being wasted. It's why he was known for commanding a room.

Wyatt watched as the girl a few seats away flustered with an answer.

Tyler shook his head, realizing she wasn't able to answer.

"The direction from which a light is pointed determines how illumination, shadow, and..." Tyler asked sternly again.

A voice behind Wyatt spoke.

"Highlights fall on and around the subject."

Tyler's eyes shot up at Alexa.

"Glad someone's fucking listening," Tyler grinned.

Alexa had a smirk plastered on her face. Wyatt rolled his eyes, whispering a soft "of course," to himself, mocking her tone. No one heard.

Wyatt's phone vibrated in his pocket again. He ignored it. But it kept on going.

He cursed, pulling it out of his pocket slightly to see who it was.

pick up your shit in an hour.
-Emily

actually i need it gone in 30 mins.
-Emily

the box is outside.
-Emily

Wyatt began to type into his phone, annoyed. Just as he was about to hit send, Tyler ripped his phone from his hand, walking away as Wyatt watched him.

"How many times have I told y'all to not disrespect me like this? This the third phone I take and it hasn't even been a week yet." His voice was stern.

Wyatt sunk into the seat, crossing his arms. Fuck.

Tyler put the phone next to his mac.

He continued on with the lecture, showing a few videos on the topic. Wyatt couldn't even concentrate.

Once the video was over, Tyler let the class go.

Wyatt got up and made his way over to him.

Tyler had his back towards him.

"Can I get my phone back?"

"I don't want you to get left behind. I'm not easy, and I'm not stupid either."

Tyler turned around, handing him back his phone.

"I never said you were."

Tyler eyed him.

"It's people who'd kill to get in this class. Don't fuck this up for yourself."

He turned his back around, putting his focus back onto his emails.

"You're fucking stuck up, you know that?" Wyatt's voice strict.

Tyler stopped typing.

"You think just because you're so famous people should bow down to you? I guess they say never meet your heroes for a reason." Wyatt began to move away.

"I came from nothing and I made all this shit myself. I'm not asking for your respect," Tyler got closer to Wyatt, "But if you're gonna be in my class you're not gonna be disrespectful."

Wyatt breathed heavy, biting his lip with nothing left to say.

He began to leave when Tyler spoke.

"And I better see you at the club."