More Protective Colby

Nobody Hurts You

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.