Trap House Imagines

Appendix - Colby Brock

I am NOT taking requests on Wattpad, if you want to have a request done, you'll have to go to my Tumblr; Quinn-Imagines. This is just so I keep my priorities straight.

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Summary; Colby's Appendix bursts, and the roommates think it's nothing until Reader tells them to call an ambulance.

Warnings; puke, 1 swear word

Word Count; 2,008 words

Pronouns; female

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Colby had started feeling off a couple of days ago, back when he hadn't been eating as much as he did. Even sometimes, forcing himself to eat because he'd gone at least a day or so at a time without having to eat.

It was starting to worry him, and eventually, he brought it up to his roommates, asking them what their opinion was on the subject. Of course, he'd tried Google first for symptoms related to how he was feeling, but all the results didn't feel right to him.

It felt like more, but the machine wasn't saying so, that's why he ended up turning to his best friends instead, hoping that they would hold the answer that he was searching for.

Jake was the first to suggest it was the flu, even going as far to ask him if he'd gotten a flu shot or something recently. The answer was no, he didn't, and he hadn't since he was in elementary school. So, that was out of the question already.

But their heads were wrapped around the fact that it could be the flu, and then Colby eventually gave up on the thought that it could be something else. He didn't feel sick, was the problem, and the guys knew that too.

The coughing, sneezing and running nose that he normally got wasn't there, so he wasn't sick. Colby Brock would know if his body was trying to tell him that he had the flu, the symptoms that normally happen, would be acting up.

So, instead, he pushed the thought off to the side—not actuallygiving up on it as he'd originally thought—and would bring it up to himself in times that he'd need something to think about. On the way to lunch in the car alone, coming back from photoshoots or going to the store.

Eventually, he asked Corey what it might be, and he didn't know either, but suggested something instead of shrugging it off as a cold; go to the doctor. It was a ridiculous thought, so Colby said he'd think about it, and after that, it wasn't brought up again much after that.

There'd been countless times since then Colby had planned to make an appointment with his regular doctor, or to just walk in to an Urgent Care, to see what was going on. But something would alwayshappen that would make him push it back. He never got around to doing it.

But now that Colby is sitting in front of the toilet, gripping onto it as if his life depends on it, emptying his dinner into the pristine while bowl, he wishes he'd taken the time to go to the Urgent Care. Maybe if he'd had, he wouldn't be sitting there.

Even with Sam standing at the doorway, hands running through his blond hair in anxiousness, he still believes that it might be the common cold. He's throwing up now—maybe it's the stomach flu.

Up until a spike of pain strikes his stomach and he squeezes his eyes shut, groaning with his teeth clenched as he punches the tile floor beneath him. Anything to take his mind off the fact that his stomach is throwing the biggest fit he's had in a while.

"I'm calling (Y/n)," Sam says, feeling bad for the past couple of days.

Colby nods slowly, not saying anything as he hangs his head over the toilet, waiting for the dinner to make an appearance again for the hundredth time.