Behind The Scenes (Completed) ✔️

16• Three years

Three years later...

Colby was sitting on the smooth sand, watching the infinity of the deep blue ocean, and the soft rolling waves lapping on the shore. Breathing the salty air, and feeling the light evening wind blowing against his face and his bare back.

The pale yellow stretch of land sparkled like a thousand jewels under the last rays of sunshine. The loud screech of seagulls mixed with the happy noise of children playing in the distance.

His legs were bent in front of him, his toes digging through the sand, and he held his folded light blue hoodie tightly in his arms, the only item of upper body clothing he had bothered putting, and ended up taking off.

It was Thursday, and Colby had escaped yet another boring house meeting presided by Corey about water bills, security deposits and reparations, and fled to the serenity of this piece of paradise.

He and his friends had moved into a mansion, nearly two years ago, in the suburbs of the city. They had initially suggested the idea as a joke, but ended up acting on it. Not only was the giant house a perfect filming spot for their videos, but it also allowed them to be together, and away from everyone, which at the time, was perfect given their mental situation.

But it had been three years, and now the friends' life was closer to normal than they had ever thought it could get, and they were even considering moving out when their lease expired, in a few months.

Jacob Gruntman had told them that there would be a time when they would no longer need the Zero X-high pills, and that time had almost come.

They hadn't forgotten the first chapter of the story, that fateful night that had scarred them for life. Every single detail was still etched in their minds, as vivid as it was on day one, and they still felt terrible, guilty and ashamed of what they had done on that day, and what they had been doing ever since.

But time and being together had proven to be more effective than they thought.

They had come to accept the fact that this was how their life was meant to be, and that the Satanists controlling them, controlling nearly every aspect of their life, and forcing them to worship Satan, wasn't something they could do anything against, however much they wanted to free themselves.

All of them, except Colby.

Even after three years, none of the too deep cuts had healed in Colby's mind. He didn't even feel the days, the months, the years passing. Everything was still the same as it had been. All the emotions he had felt in the beginning of the downward descent were still the same as they were now. It felt like time had just stopped.

Unlike his friends who could now easily go without X-high pills nor drugs for several days in a row, he had to take them constantly. He had soon found that the recommended amount was no longer sufficient to fuel him enough, and he had to take more and more; and very often ended up overdosing, which resulted into him looking over excited. This was good for the cameras, but it had the unfortunate effect of making the evening depression a lot worse, which only weakened his heart even more.

And the editing process was the worst part. That happy Colby he sent to the world through the few weekly minutes of videos he posted, and who went around jumping through the house and talking loudly wasn't him. The real Colby only existed after sunset, or on sober days, and nobody was there to see him at that moment.

Colby hated the way he lived. But it seemed there was nothing he could do about it.

He had started looking for a solution a long time ago. Besides the getting a girlfriend one, he had given in to all of his friends suggestions.

He had gone on countless adventures with them, especially with Elton who took them on amazing journeys all around the world. He had visited more places than he had ever thought he would. And he did enjoy those travels, he enjoyed his friends' company, but he still couldn't feel any actual improvement in his mental health. And worse, the joy it gave him was only temporary, and when they came back home, he felt even worse than if he had spent those long days of entertainment in his usual confinement, his always closed, locked room.

He had accepted the vape pen Jake had given him for his 21st birthday, he had started going to the gym with Aaron, and he even, occasionally, went for smokes with his friend Brennen. But all those activities didn't help him in the least, and he had recently decided to stop it all.

Even watching his favorite fan edits, which for a long time, had been his best cure, didn't work anymore. The love and dedication that his fans had for him was one of the few things in his life he used to actually like, but now it had exactly the opposite effect. He just felt like a dirty hypocrite. None of them knew what actually went on behind the scenes.

And on top of that, he still spent most of his time alone. Sam was always with Katrina, and Colby never hung out with his other friends anymore. It wasn't that he disliked them or they him, but they just weren't on the same mental level anymore. The only way he could smile and enjoy their presence was with the X-high pills, and he didn't see the point in hanging out with people if he wasn't actually himself.

His friends had tried taking him to a therapist, once. It wasn't a bad experience, but just like everything else they had tried, it didn't prove useful at all.

The kind old lady who received him concluded from his symptoms that he suffered from a severe case of PTSD, which Colby already knew, and she told him about the different types of psychotherapy she could offer to start the treatment, all of which Colby already knew about from his extensive research.

And in addition to this disappointment of not learning anything new, the lady, though slowly and slyly, spent the whole session trying to get him to talk about what exactly had caused his situation, which annoyed Colby even more.

He promised himself to never go to any therapist again.

Besides his YouTube work on his and the Sam and Colby channel, his only occupations now were his phone, going on walks by himself, or strolling at the park.

Or coming to this beach, which was one of his favorite places. One of the only ones where he could actually relax and meditate. The soothing smell of the sea and the calming murmur of the waves gave him more comfort than any other stress relief could.

Suddenly, a voice in the distance broke him out of his peaceful trance.

"Colby !"