Young Lady | Tyler, the Creator

the beginning.

October 3rd, 2014

Clementine was high as hell.

Granted, she usually was, but tonight she was higher than she had ever been before. It was Rocky's birthday, and he had thrown a big bash in celebration. She'd been smoking with Schoolboy Q on the coke white couch, and she didn't know what was in his weed, but it hit her like weed had never hit her before.

"What the fuck," she muttered to herself. She could barely move, and everything sounded as if it were miles away. What the hell was she smoking?

"Yo," Q glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "You good?"

Clementine didn't respond - not because she didn't want to, but because she physically couldn't bring her lips to move.

He laughed at her and waved his arms, signaling for Rocky to come over. He took one look at her and fell out, doing his signature spray bottle laugh that never failed to get on her nerves.

"She is out of it." Rocky said in between laughs. "We gotta get her outta here...she gotta get home."

I feel sick, Clementine thought to herself. Her stomach had begun doing backflips and it was making her uncomfortable. Was being so high you feel like throwing up a thing? She was beginning to get scared.

Rocky lifted her off the couch, putting her arm around his as he guided her throughout the seemingly endless crowd of bodies.

"Yo, T," she heard Rocky say. "I need a favor."

Clementine could barely hear the conversation he and this T person were having - everything sounded like she was underwater.

"...yeah, I got her." Clementine felt a new pair of hands on her midsection. She blinked, and one moment she was in the party, and the next she was in a fancy car with white interior.

She groaned, holding her stomach as the man - who was wearing a hat and flower print pants - started the car.

"Yo, do not throw up in my fuckin' car." He warned her, eyeing her before beginning to drive.

"Who the hell are you?" Clementine mumbled.

"I'm Tyler. I don't think we've really interacted before...I've heard a lot about you, though. Rocky sent me to take you home. It's cool, though, 'cause I wanted to leave anyways. Parties aren't really my scene." Tyler rambled.

Clementine could barely focus on what he was saying. All she could focus on was the feeling of nausea in her stomach. She weakly attempted to roll her window down before throwing up all over the passenger side.

"What the fuck!" Tyler exclaimed. "I just bought this car, you nasty bitch!"

"I'm sorry," Clementine turned to him before throwing up again, this time getting it on him. The last thing she remembered before passing out was the look of utter disgust on his face.

***

"Wake the fuck up."

Clementine jumped at the feeling of ice cold water being poured on her. She jumped out of bed immediately, wiping her face in shock. She looked up to see Tyler standing in front of her holding a bright yellow bucket. Why the hell was Tyler in her house? She barely knew him. "What are you doing here?" She asked him.

He scrunched his face up in confusion. "What do you mean what am I doing here? This is my house."

Clementine furrowed her eyebrows and looked around the room. There were instruments strewn everywhere, with posters and vinyl records on the electric blue walls. This definitely wasn't her room.

"What am I doing here?" She asked. "Did we...?" Her eyes widened.

Tyler rolled his eyes. "I don't fuck girls that throw up in my car. Or on me."

Clementine frowned and crossed her hands over her chest. She looked down and realized that she was wearing a white 'GOLF' shirt that looked more like a dress on her. "What are you talking about?" She asked. "Why am I here?"

The dark-skinned boy shook his head. "You really don't remember?"

"No."

Tyler sighed. "You got fucked up at the party last night. I don't think I've ever seen anyone that high in my life. Rocky told me to take you home, and I was going to, but then you threw up all in my shit, and then on me. It was nasty."

Clementine covered her face in embarrassment. Great. She ended up puking on him during her first time interaction with this man. She wondered what he thought of her. Did he think she was sloppy? One of those trashy girls that couldn't handle themselves properly?

"Look, I'm really sorry about last night. I don't know what happened. I'm not usually like that." She said weakly.

"Yeah, whatever. I showered you and helped you brush your teeth, but I wasn't really comfortable with it so I might not have done a good job." He replied, putting the bucket on the floor.

"Thanks." They stared at each other awkwardly. What did you even say to someone who you vomited on?

"Oh, by the way," Tyler said. "You're paying to get my fucking car cleaned. I got it like, last week, and it's already ruined."

That made Clementine pause. "What?" She asked.

He side eyed her. "You're paying for my car." He repeated.

"No I'm not." She frowned. Was it disgusting that she threw up in it? Yes. But it wasn't like it was her intention. It was a complete accident, and she felt like it wasn't her responsibility.

Tyler crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes the fuck you are."

"No the fuck I'm not." Clementine repeated. "It was an accident."

"So what bitch? You still did it." He twisted his face in disgust.

There was nothing she hated more than hearing a male call her a bitch, and she felt herself getting angry. "Watch that bitch word, nigga. I didn't mean to do it, so I'm not paying for shit."

"Then get the fuck out of my house. Bitch." Tyler snapped.

Clementine clenched her fists and grabbed her phone off the nightstand - he had been kind enough to charge it for her - and slid on her shoes before bumping past him and leaving the room. She quickly opened the Uber app and ordered one to her home. She considered calling Rocky, but he would just try to play peacemaker and all she wanted to do was get home as soon as possible.

"Don't fuckin' bump into me." Tyler followed her down the stairs. "This is my house. I should've just left your trifling ass on the side of the road."

"Leaving me on the side of the road wouldn't have changed anything. I wouldn't have paid for it then and I'm definitely not paying for it now."

"You make me sick." He looked at her in disgust, opening the front door and pushing her out. "I'm telling Rocky."

Clementine rolled her eyes. "I don't give a fuck! Tell Obama too!"

"Dirty ass bitch." Tyler slammed the door in her face. She clenched her jaw and sat on his doorstep, wet and irritated, until her Uber arrived.

On her way home, her phone pinged with a Twitter notification.

@fucktyler: I HATE LA HOES. FUCK