The Intern: Tyler, The Creator

3. Triggers

Fuck.

Today was way more stressful than I could've imagined.
I wiped the foggy mirror down with my hand, my locs falling as I opened the door to let the shower fog out.

My phone rang.

Brent.

"Hello?"

"Nia. You back?" I missed his sultry voice.

"Yeah. Why? you wanna come bother me again?" I joked, getting dressed.

"You want me to?"

He was serious.

"Brent, it's 8 at night."

"Your dad home?"

"Not yet."

"Then I'm on my way."

...

I let him in the door, we laughed as we rushed up to my room.

"How's that job you was talking about? your first day huh?" He closed the door behind him, watching me fall on the bed.

"You knew?"

"Nah, Aaliyah told me about it," he laughed.

He came over, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I missed you." He replied.

I watched as he moved closer, his lips almost meeting mine before I pushed him back.

"We can't be doing this anymore...I don't wanna do this if we're not together."

"You said you liked the friends with benefits thing?"

I thought about it momentarily.

He noticed I stayed silent.

"We don't gotta do this." He breathed, getting up.

"So you just came to fuck me and leave?"

"I came because I wanted to see how you were doing." Brent never raised his voice at me.

I looked down at his untied shoe, and he noticed it too. He quickly bent down to tie it. Brent knew my OCD triggers, and always kept it in mind.

I chuckled at him.

"I learned this thing at the center..." I sat up on the bed, "I bite my lip, then cheek, then lip again when I feel it—the trigger."

Brent smiled, sitting next to me. He pressed closer as his lips met mine. He took my bottom lip in between his teeth, smiling as he pulled away.

"Like that?" he asked gently.

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed. It was a text from my dad.

On my way home. What do you want for dinner?

Brent saw it too. He got up, grabbing his phone from the bed.

"If you need me I'll be around."

I nodded, watching him open the door and heard his footsteps sprint down the stairs.

It was weird, Brent being the only one I've been with, on and off constantly. First boyfriend, first time, first everything.

Aaliyah told me that maybe it had to do with my OCD. Something like I didn't want to start over and have to tell someone new all these mental issues I deal with.

Teaching them how to react to me whenever I broke down over my OCD.

That's probably true.

...

I woke up, my dad bothering me to hurry up once again.

This time, I wanted to make a better impression. I wore a short skirt, some tights, a cute cardigan and some platforms. It wasn't too out there but I wanted to be noticed this time. Not walked over.

I rushed to the car, buttoning my cardigan to the top so my dad wouldn't notice my cleavage and make me get dressed again.

It worked.

I got to the elevator, and as soon as I stepped foot, I could feel the various stares of men that obviously weren't satisfied with their marriages.

I unbuttoned my cardigan, making my way into the office. I walked over to Emily.

I smiled lightly.

"Morning! Could you go ahead and grab coffee and bring it into the conference before the meeting starts?"

"How many should I get?"

"Four."

"On it."

I made my way to the break room, grabbing a bunch of cups and placing them under the coffee maker quickly, wanting to set a good impression. I set them up in a tray.

I walked to the conference room, quickly taking note of the men in there. I knocked on the door. Their heads turned towards me.

"I brought some coffee," I smiled, walking over and handing them each a cup.

"What did you say your name was?" one of them asked.

"It's Nia. It's my second day. I'm the intern."

"Oh, Nia, Brown's daughter! I feel like I haven't seen you since what? you graduated middle school?" Roger took a sip.

"Around that time, yeah," I smiled.

"Good seeing you around."

"And thanks again, for the opportunity."

"Don't mention it."

I made my way out with an extra coffee in my hand. I opened the door, suddenly bumping into someone.

I gasped, some of the coffee spilling over his suit.

"Fuck!"

"Oh my god, I'm sorry—,"

"Shit, Maribel, get me the extra suit jacket in my office. Now," Mr. Okonma called.

He moved past me, looking down at his watch.

"Clients not here yet?" He asked the conference table.

"Nope. You got lucky," the men in the office laughed.

I shut the door behind me. He didn't even acknowledge me at all. Like I was invisible.

The men in the office taunted him about it. I could hear them.

So much for a first impression.

As I made my way back to my desk, the presumed Maribel walked past me with the suit in her hand.

"Next time watch where you're going," she replied with an annoyed tone.