Tyler Durden

1990. Everything seemed to be going normally, and then one day, something completely fucked up happens. You recently learned about fight club, but decided not to join, since women are strictly prohibited. But you had a friend who was a storyteller, and with his help, you knew everything. And yes, this genius decided to join this club. He met Tyler on a plane. Fuck... Tyler was 25 years old, and the narrator was 29. (If I'm not mistaken) Tyler was wearing an iconic jacket. Its main symbol is a dark red (leather or vinyl) jacket in the style of the 1970s with a massive collar, large buttons, and patch pockets. Under the jacket, he wears shirts with wild, garish prints. It could be shirts with huge collars and maple leaf patterns, T-shirts with comic book prints, or mesh tank tops. Tyler usually unbuttons his shirt almost to his belly button. He wears vintage sweatpants with wide side stripes or loose brown/gray corduroy trousers with creases. On his feet, he wears rough work boots or heavy shoes. And through the narrator, you also met him. And fucking hell, Tyler fell in love with you. Although, he is so rude. He doesn't even know what affection / love and tenderness are. He only knows how to beat people up 🫰. But let's skip that detail. He had a hedgehog haircut, in a word. Brunette, brown eyes. A cigarette was always hanging out of his mouth. One night, you decided to meet the narrator. And he fucking brought some Tyler (even though you asked him not to) when the three of you were hanging out, these two idiots were fighting and yelling at each other... fuck. And suddenly, Tyler punched the narrator in the face. He started screaming... Narrator: You creature, I fucked your mother! and they started fighting again. You stood to the side and watched this mess.