The Intern: Tyler, The Creator

20. Public Speaker

I looked over at my phone, an unknown number.

I answered it, the immediately recognizing the familiar voice.

"I need a favor. Do an introduction for the presentation with Chanel in 10."

I furrowed my eyebrows.

"I'm still at lunch with Alessandro from Gucci. I can't leave." He continued.

"You can't get someone else to do it? Tyler I have no experience doing that."

Emily was the only one who was answering calls. She couldn't leave the front desk.

It was lunch time, after all.

"Everyone else has other meetings to handle. Look, I'm gonna be there in 30 minutes. Go to my office, there's a file with all the info you need to know. All you gotta do is talk about our company and what we do. Talk about me."

"I—,"

Before I could say anything, six people showed up, Emily showing them to the conference room.

"What if I get stuck? Or if I run out of things to say?"

"You won't. I'll be there soon. Just talk about the projects I've done—you see me do them everyday. It's a powerpoint drive in my desk. Just improvise."

"Shit. Okay."

I hung up, quickly making my way over to his office to grab all the information I needed as Emily brought them drinks.

I ran through the files; Tyler came up with some advertising ideas that he needed to present to Chanel.

I grabbed the flash drive and looked at myself in the mirror. I could feel my hands begin to sweat, fuck; I'd never done anything like this.

I made my way into the conference room, shutting the door behind me as I plugged the flash drive into the laptop. I dimmed the lights a little; they were talking amongst themselves.

I got to the front, clearing my throat as they looked up at me. I couldn't even think of what to say.

I licked my lips before continuing, grabbing hold of the powerpoint clicker in my hand.

"I'm Nia, I'll be presenting—doing a little overview of what we do as a company," I could feel my voice shake a little under the pressure.

I talked a little about the advertising firm and what projects we had worked on based on the google search I'd done five minutes ago. The many "ummm's" coming out of me made me feel like they weren't impressed.

"...Tyler Okonma is our creative director here, and he's worked on many projects—these are just some of them." I turned on the projector, an image of some high end brands appeared.

"Anything from uh...clothing, to watches, jewelry, vehicles..." I showed a slide of a campaign he had directed with Converse.

I was surprised myself, the fact that I had seen these ads everywhere—never a clue that Tyler had fully thought of them and directed them himself.

"So as you can see, he's definitely the best when it comes to...creating new ideas."

I looked at the clock tick in front of me. It had been twenty minutes.

I was running out of things to say. They began to look disinterested.

I went on through the slides, stopping at each one and making shit up on the spot.

Soon, I saw Tyler's silhouette appear against the frosted glass walls as he walked closer. Relief came over me as he opened the door quietly.

"...This one was of course the Cartier rebrand you had all probably seen down in Beverly hills. These posters are up everywhere," I looked at Tyler, he stood in the back watching me.

He signaled to keep going, and whenever I spoke too quiet, he mouthed with his lips to speak louder.

I started to end my speech.

"With that being said, I'd like to introduce the man behind these ideas, Mr. Okonma."

They clapped as Tyler walked up, taking my spot as he whispered in my ear.

"Stay and watch."

I nodded, sitting at the back as he began his presentation.

He was so eloquent, articulate, and well spoken; the complete opposite of the mess I had just presented.

Tyler began his speech with a well researched description of what he would change at Chanel.

"No disrespect, but I definitely think the ads y'all are using are drawn out. It's been done before. I want to bring something fresh, catch people's attention when they walk down the street and see these advertisements up."

He began showing them their ideas, completely convincing them by the end that it was the right move.

...

I waited behind as Tyler said goodbye to the guests.

He walked back over into the conference room to grab his stuff.

"That was aight. Your first time improvising." He began.

"I can't believe you made me do that."

"It's just some things you gotta work on."

"I gotta work on? I'm not doing this again." I crossed my arms.

"You are. See if your dad didn't tell Rogers you needed this job, you would've gone through the same process all the other interns go through. You would've been asked to present an improv speech to see how you'd perform in front of people." He looked down at his watch. "But I'm guessing you didn't even read your job description, huh?"

I bit my lip, unsure of what to say.

"Get up there."

"What?"

"Get in front of the podium and tell me about this pen. Make me wanna buy it." He placed the pen on the desk in front of me.

He took a seat, leaning back on the chair. I watched him unbutton the middle button on his suit.

I made my way back up, clearing my throat as I looked down at the pen.

"It's a Pilot pen. It has blue ink—,"

"Louder."

"It has blue ink," I repeated, louder. I rolled my eyes. "Doesn't smudge when you write with it. It's stable. It um,"

"Don't say um. Pause instead."

"It's...It has a grip on the end so you can write comfortably."

"Pull your shoulders back. Your posture."

I did.

"Tyler, Rogers needs you." Emily walked in.

He got up, grabbing his stuff.

"We're gonna continue this later." He looked at me.

Once he left the room, Emily came over.

"You know how many interns would kill to have Tyler give them advice like that?" she replied, helping clean up the cups left on the table.

"I just don't get why he's so fucking hard on me."

"It's good, you have to be prepared. Plus you're being taught by the best there is."