Colby Brock’s phone rang in the dead of night, the shrill sound piercing the stillness of his bedroom. He groggily reached for it, squinting at the bright screen. The caller ID showed "LA General Hospital." His heart skipped a beat, his mind already spinning with a thousand possibilities.
“Hello?” Colby’s voice was thick with sleep, but it quickly turned to panic as he listened.
“Mr. Brock?” the voice on the other end was calm, but there was an unmistakable tension. “This is Dr. Harris from LA General Hospital. I’m calling about your friend, Sam Golbach.”
Colby’s breath hitched. "What happened? Is Sam okay?" His heart raced, suddenly wide awake.
"I'm afraid your friend has been in a serious car accident. It’s very bad, Mr. Brock. We’re doing everything we can, but you need to come to the hospital immediately."
Colby’s hands trembled, the weight of those words crashing into him. "I’m on my way."
He hung up, his mind in a haze, his body moving on instinct. He grabbed his keys, barely remembering to put on shoes, and rushed out the door, speeding through the empty LA streets. Sam. His best friend. The one who had been by his side through everything. From their teenage years in Kansas to their move to LA, building a career, their YouTube channel, their dreams. How could this happen? How could Sam—his Sam—be in danger?
The minutes felt like hours as he sped towards the hospital. His hands gripped the steering wheel, his thoughts a storm of fear and desperation. When he finally arrived, he rushed to the emergency room, where a nurse led him down a sterile hallway to a private room. Colby’s heart slammed against his chest. Sam had to be okay. He had to be.
Dr. Harris was standing by the door, his face grave. "We’ve done everything we can, Mr. Brock. But I’m afraid he may not make it."
Colby’s knees buckled beneath him, and he grabbed onto the doorframe for support. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with him?”
"He’s in a critical state. His injuries are severe. He’s been in and out of consciousness, but it’s touch and go at this point. We’re not sure he’ll survive the night."
The room felt suffocating. Colby’s vision blurred, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "I—I need to see him."
The doctor nodded, stepping aside. Colby didn’t need another invitation. He pushed past him, his eyes scanning the room for Sam. And there he was—lying unconscious, tubes and wires attached to his body, his face pale. Sam, the guy who had laughed with him through countless late-night shoots, who had been his rock through all the tough times. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening.
Colby collapsed into the chair next to Sam’s bed, his hands trembling as he reached out to hold his friend’s limp hand. He could barely hold back the tears as he squeezed it gently. "Sam... please wake up," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I can’t do this without you. You’re my best friend. I need you."
Time passed, but it felt like the world was frozen in place. Hours slipped by as Colby stayed by his side, whispering to Sam, telling him all the things they never got a chance to say. He prayed. He begged. He just wanted to hear Sam’s voice again, even if it was just to say, “I’m okay.”
But then, the monitor beside Sam’s bed let out a steady, unwavering beep. Colby’s eyes snapped to the screen, his heart stopping in his chest. The beep became slower. The sound more distant. And then, with a final, deafening silence, the flatline rang out.
“No...” Colby’s voice cracked, his chest tight with grief. “No, no, no! Sam! Please!”
But it was too late. The doctors rushed in, their faces stoic as they checked the monitors, but Colby knew. His whole world came crashing down in that moment. Sam was gone.
For a long while, Colby just sat there, holding Sam’s hand, unwilling to let go. It was as if time itself had stopped. How could he say goodbye to someone who had been by his side for so long? How could he face a life without him?
Eventually, the hospital staff gently moved Colby aside. His world was spinning, his heart shattered. He couldn’t stay in the room any longer. The emptiness was suffocating.
Back at home, Colby found himself in front of a camera. He could barely breathe, let alone speak. But he knew what he had to do. Sam would have wanted him to.
He sat down, staring at the camera lens, his eyes red and swollen. He didn’t know where to begin, or how to make sense of what had just happened. But he knew he had to share the news with their fans. With the people who had supported them since they were just two kids with a dream.
Colby took a deep breath. "Hey, everyone. I don’t even know how to say this... but Sam... Sam’s gone. He’s not coming back."
Tears streamed down his face, but he continued. "Sam and I, we’ve been through everything together. From Kansas to LA. You guys have been with us for so long, and we’ve shared so many memories. It’s hard to believe this is real. But I want you to know that Sam was... he was the best friend anyone could ask for. He changed my life, and he made all of this possible. He made me who I am."
Colby wiped his eyes, his voice shaking. "I don’t have the words for how much I’m going to miss him. But I know he would want all of you to keep going. Keep smiling. Keep making memories. He lived for that. He lived for you guys."
Colby paused for a moment, his emotions overwhelming him. "I’ll never forget you, Sam. Thank you for everything."
The camera shut off, but Colby’s heart remained in pieces. As he sat there, the finality of the loss settled in. Sam was gone, but the memories, the moments they shared, would live on forever. And Colby had to carry on, just as Sam would have wanted.
