Best Interest: Tyler, The Creator & Wyatt

31. Pothole

One Week Later

Wyatt had begun working at Tyler's studio as a paid intern, occasionally shadowing Tyler whenever the opportunity arose.

He still kept his job at the coffee shop, but only
part time instead of full.

...

One Month Later

School had begun, but Wyatt had decided to take the semester off. Things were going well at the studio; both T and Wyatt sneaked off during break—it was the thing he looked forward to most. It was becoming an unhealthy habit, sneaking to fuck at least twice a week. It felt new every time and they both couldn't seem to get enough.

"It was fucking hectic today," Wyatt grabbed sat on the edge of  the bed in Tyler's master bedroom.

They had gone home together after work and had a few hours together before Imaan got home.

"I told you it was gonna get crazy the last week of filming."

"I can't believe it's over."

"Not yet. Now it's all the editing and post production we gotta do." Tyler replied from the walk in closet, "Fuck." He made his way out, holding up two different suits.

"Aight. This one," he pulled up one suit in front of him, "or this one?"

Tyler had begun planning his suit for the wedding in a few months.

Wyatt inspected both from where he was sitting. One was a darker blue, the other was a velvet black.

"The black?" Wyatt replied, unsure. It didn't matter to him, let alone make a difference.

"Imaan liked this one better." Tyler looked at the blue one instead.

Wyatt sighed.

"Should I try both on?" Tyler set them on the bed.

"I don't care," Wyatt shrugged.

Tyler looked over at him, he could tell Wyatt was growing annoyed.

"I shouldn't even be fucking asking you," he said under his breath.

Wyatt got up from the bed.

"You know I don't like talking about that shit. Or anything having to do with Imaan...the wedding."

"I know, fuck, I know."

It fell silent before Wyatt spoke again.

"I think we should stop seeing each other for a while."

Tyler clenched his jaw.

"If that's what you want."

"You know I don't fucking want that," Wyatt sighed, "you're getting married, T."

"So all of a sudden you care?" Tyler furrowed his brows.

"We've been doing this shit behind her back for months, like I feel fucked up. The fuck are we gonna do after you're married?"

Tyler nodded, agreeing.

"We should stop then."

The next few days at the studio they would pass one another just like regular coworkers. They acted like they didn't know each other. 

It stung.

To make it less awkward, Tyler had recommended Wyatt to another studio firm a few blocks away, behind his back.

It resulted in Wyatt receiving the news the following week.

"Hey, are you free?" Wyatt knocked as he walked into Tyler's office.

"What's wrong?" T asked, looking up from the desk.

Wyatt got closer, shutting the door behind him.

"I uh, I got a call back from that other film studio I told you about," Wyatt looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. "They offered me the full time director position. I'll be directing music videos or whatever...they wanna see how I work first before they move me up to films."

Tyler sat back in his chair, he already knew. He told them Wyatt was one of the best up and coming directors in LA—but Wyatt didn't know any of that.

"That's good."

"They want me to start next week."

Tyler nodded.

"I think it'll be for the best."

Wyatt agreed.

"I already packed my stuff this morning, I just wanted to let you know."

"Text me how it goes. I'm still a friend, regardless of that other shit." Tyler replied.

"I will."

Wyatt slightly smiled before making his way out.