Best Interest: Tyler, The Creator & Wyatt

9. Vanilla

"Thanks again."

Wyatt handed the last customer of the night their coffee.

He sighed, checking the time. He still had a few tables to clean. Grabbing the rag, he proceeded to quickly wipe them off. Everyone had gone home, he was the last to close.

The door rang; a sign someone had come in.

Wyatt turned around. He sighed to himself.

"Look if you came to yell at me, I know. I fucked up." Wyatt looked at Tyler from across the entrance.

"I just came to get my coffee."

Tyler put his hands up in defense, a slight grin on his lips.

"Right—sorry. Medium latte with three pumps vanilla."

"Yeah."

Wyatt started the machine, grabbing a cup as he began to put everything together. It was fairly silent except for faint music the shop played.

He could feel Tyler's stare the whole time.

Wyatt finally started adding the lid, pressing it down, only to have the cup slip and spill on his hand.

"Fuck! shit," Wyatt wiped his hand on his apron. It didn't help that the coffee was steaming hot.

Tyler watched him as Wyatt got flustered.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"About what?" Wyatt began to make him another batch.

"What's bothering you?" Tyler leaned on the counter. His voice went softer.

"Stupid breakup shit. I'll get over it." Wyatt wiped the coffee spillage on the floor with a mop.

"Look, I'm not trying to make your life harder, always lecturing you on shit. I just want all my students to succeed."

"You don't even know if I'm good enough." Wyatt threw the rag over his shoulder, turning to him slightly.

"If you weren't you wouldn't even be in my class."

"Anyone majoring in film can take it—,"

"I handpicked all 25 of you. They showed me everyone's film from the last semster's project. Everyone that didn't get picked got put on the waiting list."

Wyatt looked at him confused.

"So, you saw my film?"

Tyler smiled.

"Boy in Jeans right?"

Wyatt nodded, grinning.

"You were the reason I made that. I watched A Boy is a Gun and I was so inspired—shit, even the title..." Wyatt grinned.

"I know. I saw the details. But you made it your own. It stood out."

"It wasn't even that good." Wyatt added vanilla into the coffee.

"You think my firsts were ever that good? Mine were shit," Tyler chuckled.

"Wolf? that shit shaped filmmaking. It was your first—,"

"It wasn't."

Wyatt looked at him, furrowing his brows.

"What time do you get off?" Tyler interrupted again.

"I'm supposed to be off now..."

"I wanna show you something."

Wyatt stood there, confused. Tyler took the coffee from his hands.

"You coming?" He began to walk backwards towards the exit.

Wyatt nodded quickly; realizing there was somewhere he wanted to take him.

...

Tyler unlocked the glass doors of an unfamiliar building. It was huge.

Tyler walked in first, Wyatt following behind slowly.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice echoing throughout the hall.

Tyler flicked on the light switch, everything turning on. A huge set was in front of him, a bunch of cameras and set design stuff laid out everywhere. Wyatt quickly recognized the set.

"This is where you filmed A Boy is a Gun?"

"Mhm. It's my private set studio. I make a lot of shit in here."

Wyatt followed behind him as he walked into another hall leading into a small theater with a huge screen on the wall. It was like a private movie theater.

Tyler opened the door to another set inside the theater. It seemed to hold a bunch of old VCR's, DVD's, and old film.

"This all the shit I've collected over time, favorite movies..." he picked out a dvd and blew the dust off of it as he placed it into the player. The huge screen turned on in front of them. Wyatt made his way in one of the theater seats. Tyler followed and sat beside him.

A bunch of high school kids on a skateboard appear; the title screen reading;
Summer of '08' by Wolf Haley.

Wyatt laughed as the camera cut to a black screen, a young Tyler falling from the skateboard. He gets back up, cursing behind the camera as he continues to follow his friends through the city.

"This was my first." Tyler speaks, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"So this is what you wanted to show me."

"I wanted you to know that your first is way better than my first. You got potential."
Tyler turned to look at him.

"I guess." he shrugged.

Wyatt turned momentarily, trailing Tyler's features. He looked away as soon as Tyler bit his lip and turned to him.

"I should go," Wyatt got up.

"I'll drop you off."

"I'll just take the bus, it's fine," he was flustered.

"Nah, I gotta get home anyway. I'll drop you off on the way."

Wyatt sighed, nodding.

...

"This you?" Tyler pulled up to an apartment building.

"It's my roommates. I'm just staying here while I go to school."

"So you always take the bus to school?"

"Nah, I bike, sometimes."

Tyler eyed the building.

"If you ever need a ride, let me know."

Wyatt looked at him from the passenger seat, Tyler's hand on the steering wheel.

He couldn't keep his eyes off of his lips. It was something that kept pulling Wyatt in—it confused him. The little details he caught; from Tyler's expensive woodsy cologne scent, to the Burt's Bees chapstick that always kept his lips nice and pink.

Wyatt looked down at the golden jewelry he wore around his neck. It glistened under the street lights.

"Thanks for the ride." He began to get out of the car.

"Night," Tyler called, before Wyatt shut the door.