It was a typical Friday night in Los Angeles. Sam and Colby had been invited to a massive party at one of their friends' houses. The night was going really well, that is until another influencer Bryson and his squad showed up. Their friend and Bryson were also friends, so it was no surprise when he showed up, already super wasted. He and Colby had a bad history so they did their best to avoid him and avoid confrontation. The last thing they wanted to do was make a scene in front of everyone. Bryson however, didn't feel the same way.
"Colby Brock," said Bryson, walking up to them, clearly drunk. "Long-time no see."
"It was like that on purpose," said Colby to Sam under his breath.
"C'mon bro, don't be like that," said Bryson. "Let's just have a good time. It's a party after all."
"Nah man, we were heading out anyway," said Colby, getting up and heading towards the door. Sam followed behind him.
"This little bitch is scared of me," said Bryson to his friends, they all started to laugh.
Colby stopped in his tracks and Sam saw him ball his fists. "Colby don't," said Sam. "He's drunk, just ignore him."
It took everything in Colby to not punch him in the face, right then and there. Colby unballed his fists and turned back around to Bryson, who was still laughing. Colby smirked at him and spoke up.
"Do your friends know about San Jose?" asked Colby.
Bryson's smile disappeared. "You promised you'd never say anything about that?" said Bryson angrily.
"Dude, what's he talking about?" asked one of Bryson's friends.
"Oh I won't, but you can ask his roommates," laughed Colby. "It's quite juicy." He turned once more and headed towards the door.
"Fuck you, Brock!!" he heard Bryson yell behind him. Colby smirked as he and Sam made their way out.
The next night, Sam had decided to go out and pick up a few groceries for the house. He had left the cart back in the store, thinking he'd be able to carry everything on his own. The box of White Claw in his arms suddenly began sliding, but he didn't have enough hands to catch it. He thought for sure the cans inside would burst, but lucky for him, someone caught it before it hit the ground. Unlucky for him, that person, was Bryson.
Bryson looked up at Sam. "Don't wanna lose that," he laughed.
"Thanks," said Sam.
"Don't sweat it man," said Bryson.
Sam could've cut the awkward with a knife. Bryson walked with him back to his car, and set the box at his feet when they reached his trunk. Sam set the rest of the stuff down and stuck his hand out to shake Bryson's.
"Thanks again, man," said Sam.
"Hey, it's no problem," said Bryson, shaking his hand. "I also wanted to say sorry for how I behaved last night. I get crazy when I'm drunk."
"I appreciate that," said Sam. "But it's really not me you have to apologize to."
"Yea dude, you're so right," replied Bryson. "It's not you I have a problem with, it's Colby. So you can thank him...for what's about to happen next."
Bryson looked around at the empty parking lot and Sam watched as several of Bryson's friends came up behind him. Sam attempted to flee to the driver side of his car, but they all blocked his path.
"You're not going anywhere," said Bryson, as several of his friends grabbed Sam by the arms. "You're gonna help me send Colby a message."
Sam tried to scream, but they used their hands to cover his mouth and brought him to an isolated spot behind the building. They shoved him roughly into the wall, and he fell to the ground.
They all began punching and kicking Sam, beating him to death. After a few minutes, Bryson and his friends stopped as Sam was gasping for air, and spitting blood from his mouth. Bryson bent down to his eye level and grasped Sam's blond locks in his hand, forcing him to look up.
"You're gonna make sure Brock knows," started Bryson, "that this is what happens when he messes with me, and that he's never gonna do it again."
Bryson then smashed Sam's head into the ground, Sam groaning in pain as he did. Bryson stood up and he and his friends made their way back to their car, leaving Sam on the cold pavement. He heard their tires as they drove away. Sam hurt all over. He didn't want to move, but he forced himself to, reaching for the phone in his pocket. He took out his phone and his shaky fingers put in Colby's number.
Colby was sitting on his bed when his phone rang beside him. He saw Sam's number come up and answered it.
"Hey dude, what's up?" said Colby.
"Colby...," said Sam.
Colby could tell something was wrong. "Dude what's wrong?" he asked. "Are you okay?"
"No," said Sam weakly. "I need you to come get me, hurry Colby please."
"Okay," said Colby worried. "I'm leaving right now. I'm on my way. Just don't move."
"Wasn't planning on it," winced Sam, as Colby hung up.
Colby quickly hurried down the stairs of the Trap House, grabbing his car keys.
"Dude, what's your rush?" asked Corey.
"It's Sam," said Colby. "He called me. He sounded like he was hurt."
"Hurt?" said Corey. "From what?"
"I don't know," said Colby. "But I need to get to him, fast."
"Jake and I will come too," said Corey, as they all rushed out the front door. They piled into Colby's car and quickly made their way to Sam's location. They pulled into the parking lot of the store, it was very empty because the store was closing soon. They found Sam's car and saw the groceries by his trunk, but no sign of him. Colby pulled into one of the empty parking spots and all three of them got out of his car. They frantically looked around for Sam.
"Sam!?" yelled Colby. "Sam!?"
There was no response. Colby quickly took his phone out of his pocket and dialed Sam's number. He could hear the ringing of Sam's phone, and they quickly followed the sound. They walked around to a dark and deserted side of the store and stopped in their tracks when they saw Sam hunched over, clutching his side and bleeding.
"Dude! Oh My God!" said Colby, quickly rushing to his side. He slowly and gently helped Sam to his feet. He threw Sam's arm around him to help him walk. "What happened?"
"Bryson happened," said Sam weakly.
"Wait, Bryson did this to you?" asked Colby. "He jumped you?"
"He said he wanted to send you a message," replied Sam, wincing.
"Sam, bro, I'm so sorry," said Colby.
"Don't be," said Sam. "He's a dick."
Colby was infuriated. All three of them quickly helped Sam back to his car.
"Jake, Corey," started Colby. "Take Sam back with you guys."
"Where are you going?" asked Jake, as he watched Colby get into his car.
"Don't worry about it," said Colby, slamming his car door as he got in.
Jake, Corey and Sam all listened as Colby's tires screeched as he left the parking lot and zoomed down the street.
Colby pulled up to Bryson's house and a full party was in swing. He quickly parked his car on the side of the road and quickly made his way up to the front door. He rapped on it hard. When someone answered the door, he barged into the house.
"Yo, who invited this dude?" yelled the guy who answered the door.
A bunch of people looked towards Colby, he didn't know most of them but he didn't care, he was here for one person and one person only. Colby locked eyes with one of Bryson's friends and quickly strode up to him, the friend backing away as he did.
"Where's Bryson?!" said Colby enraged.
"Chill dude, he's out back," said the friend.
Colby made his way to the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. He spotted Bryson standing by the pool with a bunch of other people. When Bryson made eye contact with Colby, he smirked and nodded at him. Colby didn't waste any time; he didn't care how many people saw. He marched right up to Bryson, and punched him square in the face, knocking him to the ground. Bryson stood up and went to punch Colby back, but Colby was enraged. There was no holding him back.
No one had even bothered to try to stop the fight that broke out. Most were too drunk to care. They all just stood by and chanted, as they watched the two boys try and pound the shit out of each other. Colby however, got the upper hand. He grasped Bryson by his collar and looked into the eyes of his bloodied and bruised face as Bryson smirked at him.
"You're a fucking coward!" shouted Colby. "If you have a problem with me, you take it out on me, not my friends you pussy!!! If you ever lay a fucking finger on Sam again, I will ruin you, in more ways than one, you son of a bitch! You know I can, and you know I will!!"
"I didn't even hit him that hard," laughed Bryson. Colby gave him an uppercut right to the face and everyone around them winced as Bryson landed on his back on the grass.
"Remember who the fuck you're dealing with!" said Colby. He quickly headed for the door as everyone else crowded around Bryson to see if he was okay.
Colby gripped his steering wheel the whole way home, his hands still bloody from the fight. Colby quickly stepped in the front door and went to wash the blood off of his hands. He then found Sam, laying on the couch in the living room. He had bandages and stitches on several parts of his body, and had a pack of ice against his head.
"Hey Colby," winced Sam as he tried to sit up. "Did you find Bryson?"
"Oh I found him," said Colby, sitting down next to Sam. "And I promise, he's never gonna touch you again."
"You didn't have to do that," said Sam.
"I did," said Colby. "Nobody hurts you. Not while I'm around. Never again."
Sam held out his hand as Colby clasped it with his. "What did you do exactly?" asked Sam.
"Would you believe we had a friendly chat?" laughed Colby.
"Not even a little," laughed Sam.