harmonize ≛ solby oneshots

dying in la

colbys pov

Sam and I moved out to L.A. 3 years ago.

At first, it was all fun and games. We loved it. All of it.

Sam loved the people. People watching made him happy. Watching Hollywood's Beloved and the Internet's Stars walking down the streets we lived on.
I don't remember the last time, when we were cooped up in our house, that Sam wasn't looking out the window facing the Hollywood sign, beaming down on Hollywood Boulevard. He always kept himself entertained.

At the one year mark of us living there, we both started believing that our lives were looking up. I mean, who wouldn't be happy while living with their best friend?

little did we both know that would change for the worst.

to keep it short, sam kept getting sick. like, he wouldn't get better.

he's afraid of hospice care. he absolutely hates it. so i avoided taking him at all costs. but, 2 weeks was torture watching him be a bed hog and getting physically sick.

he was weak.

it all seemed to go by so fast.

i was there with him as he glared down at the medical response papers.

he didn't show me at first.

it was hard for me to bear.

it hurt.

he had kidney cancer.

if only I hadn't been so dumb and not taken him sooner it wouldn't be to late.
as it had already spread to his bones and started attacking his lungs, it was too late for chemotherapeutic treatments. he was only on an antibiotic for pain complications.

but sam lived his last few weeks happily.

I lived in misery. I blamed myself for not taking him sooner.

but I didn't show it.

I didn't stop loving it.

He kept people watching. We went out and partied like we always did.

I held him close.

His favorite thing was to sit on the bench outside our duplex's building. The people made him smile, even though he was just a face in the crowd, the blind pair of eyes in a room full of people looking at you. the boy that no one noticed was dying in la.

I remember like it was yesterday.

We were out clubbing, as sam requested, as he dropped to his knees, grasping his ribs as if he was in pain, gasping for air, eyes on the ground, then glaring up at me.

I can't forget the look he gave me.

Of course, we earned a few looks from bystanders as I was rushing out the door. Him whimpering in my arms as we made our way to the hospital.

Most of the night was a blur. Him being hooked up to all the machines to the nurses telling me he won't recover.

It's like he was accepting death.

But he's too young- I didn't understand why it had to be him.

I sat there.

His hand in mine.

His last words were

"Every face along the Boulevard is a dreamer just like you."

He died with a smile, but i was frowning.

Yeah, he was out of pain and misery, but his death put me in it.

I didn't think I'd be thinking of him still 2 years ago, as I stood at the end of Santa Monica Pier, my life slipping away as I jumped, crowds forming at the top, paramedics rushing to me, rushing me down the hospital halls.

But before I was saved, I saw him.

He reached his hand out to me to take me with him.

"Hey, dreamer boy."
-

im not crying u r

also i rlly need to make happy chapters dhsjsj