Chapter Text
“I don’t wanna be a prisoner to who I used to be…”
Los Angeles is too quiet when they get back.
Not literally—the city never shuts up—but inside the house, the silence feels unnatural. Like the walls are holding their breath, waiting for one of them to say something first.
Sam dumps his duffel bag in the hallway and barely hears it hit the floor. Colby’s already disappeared into the kitchen, muttering something about how he needs water, but his footsteps don’t match the words. They’re too fast. Too sharp.
Sam follows slower, dragging his hoodie sleeves down over his palms like it’ll protect him from whatever this new version of their home is.
“Feels weird to be back,” he says, grabbing a Gatorade from the fridge and pretending it’s normal.
Colby doesn’t answer right away. He’s staring into his own water bottle like it might explain something to him. Eventually, he shrugs.
“Yeah. Guess I got used to the hotel beds.”
Sam raises an eyebrow. “That’s a first. You bitched about the pillows the entire time we were in New Orleans.”
Colby smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Guess they grew on me.”
The silence slips back in like smoke.
The filming trip was long. A month of haunted mansions, midnight cemeteries, and hotel rooms with too-thin walls. They were exhausted, sure. But usually, exhaustion brought them closer — sleeping on each other’s shoulders on flights, finishing each other’s sentences in interviews, stupid inside jokes that no one else understood.
This time, Sam feels like he came back with someone else entirely.
Later that night, Sam lies awake in his bed, eyes on the ceiling fan spinning shadows across the room.
He replays it all — not the trip, but the moments in between. How Colby had started sleeping with his phone on silent. How he took calls outside. How he’d smile at something on his screen, then lock it before Sam could see.
Not that Sam tried to see. He’s not... like that.
Just—curious. Or protective. Or both.
He closes his eyes, but all he sees is Colby on the balcony in New Orleans, phone pressed to his ear, smiling in a way he hadn’t smiled at Sam in weeks.
Sam turns over and punches his pillow. The air is heavy.
The next morning, they’re filming again — back to business. A new challenge video with Kat, Jake, and some guy from another channel Sam doesn’t really know.
Everyone’s laughing. The jokes are loud. The energy is performative.
Colby laughs too hard at something Kat says. His hand brushes her arm. Sam watches from behind the camera and clenches his jaw so tight his ears ring.
It’s stupid. It’s nothing. They’re always touchy. It’s not new.
But it feels different.
When Colby glances over and meets his eyes, Sam looks away.
That night, Sam scrolls through their YouTube comments, even though he told himself he wouldn’t.
He searches for something — maybe for someone else to notice the shift he can't name.
“Why does Sam seem kinda distant in this one?”
“Colby’s energy is weird lol. Is everything okay??”
“ Anyone else feel the vibe’s off lately?”
Sam locks his phone.
He wants to believe it’s nothing. Jet lag. Burnout. Maybe they’re just overdue for a break.
But deep down, something tells him the truth is already here.
Something tells him this is the beginning of the end.
End of Chapter 1