Scorbus One-shots

[AU] Photogenic

If there was one thing that Albus loathed more than attending lectures, it was replacing the memory card of his camera whenever it was full. And that was saying something, owing to the fact that he was frequently buying new ones at the end of every two weeks minimum. Of course, at the beginning, it wasn't as taxing as it was now. Back then, when he was still in his early adolescent years, he had been a self-governing, undiscovered photographer, snapping pictures of anything that looked appealing to him – even if it was only the sight of a dust accumulating at the edge of a windowsill. See, he had an eye for details (James had stated once that he simply had a systemised mindset), and his mother often pointed out that the camera lens was like an extra eye for him.

He couldn't agree more. He'd always known that he had it in him.

That was how he ended up here; with a total of more than eight hundred followers on Instagram and Twitter, working as a well-known portrait photographer – though, not as recognised as the models that he worked with – and earning enough for him to buy the equipment that he required, which weren't as cheap as they nearly always were. Really, whenever he thought about getting his wages, he'd always dreamed of using them to pay for his tuition fees in university and other essential living requirements – given that he was basically living by himself now – not buying memory cards every two weeks for as long as he could tolerate it.

No, he didn't suppose he could tolerate it any longer. It wasn't that they were that costly – he could buy loads of them in just a day, for all he cared. The issue with it was that it raised his hackles for reasons he couldn't quite put a finger to. Perhaps it was the fact that it was a flat tiny object that could store numerous pictures, and that it ran out so quick when it was used repeatedly.

All he knew was that it was all due to him consistently working with a variety of models in several studios across various metropolises. Sometimes he was even invited to exclusive events, causing him to have to buy more than two pro-digital cameras – not to mention the other requirements for a photography session to look stellar. These matters would have all been less strenuous had he not been an undergraduate student who had to attend weekly lectures at his campus, and who also had a mountainous pile of assignments to be handed in. His father kept advising him to minimise this work of his, so as to balance out his university life as well as his photography life to an equilibrium.

And Albus did listen. As of now, he was still cogitating on how he should do it, because clearly he couldn't just drop this professional career of his, nor could he also drop out of university. He'd studied hard for his 'A' Levels just to get there. Being a miserable wreck since he was in secondary school and having close to zero friends, it sure was a riveting accomplishment for him when he discovered that he'd passed all four subjects – and obtaining credits for Mathematics. He wasn't going to throw that out the window now, was he?

Just the previous year, he had believed that he already knew what he was doing with his life, what path he was going to take. With Plan A and Plan B meticulously mapped out in his brain, he had assumed that all he needed to do was become a liquid of existence and simply go with the flow, wherever the current brought him. And should the two different tributaries converge along the course, his life career will be impeccable. But that was merely the conception he'd fantasised during the thrill of getting his exam results, as though his whim had dominated his entire body. But now, having survived his first semester, he was constantly daydreaming about curling up into a ball and staying inert for the rest of the second semester.

Right now, though, he better buy ten kilograms worth of memory cards.

"You've been cursing at yourself," said a familiar feminine voice behind Albus as he slung the strap of his camera from around his neck and putting it on a nearby table. "Full card again? You have specific profanities that I'm familiar with, after all."