Kurt Hummel was fresh out of high school and he already knew where he was heading. He’d known for years, ever since 9th grade when his father gave him his first camera. It was a terrible little thing, but Kurt loved it. Since then he’d saved up enough money to afford much better equipment (he loved his Nikon D700 with all his heart). He’d recently gotten into Northridge College, which was world-renowned for it’s photography program in Vancouver. All of the professors were freelancers during their spare time, many of them that were well known in the field.

Kurt was most interested in portraiture, specifically high fashion. He wanted to work for Vogue magazine one day; it was his dream job. He wanted to see his photographs in the magazine that he spent most of his teenage life reading intently. He loved being able to capture a persons’ essence in a still image. And working with beautiful clothing would definitely be a bonus. He had been shooting for a few years on his own, but the idea of going to college where he’d have equipment and studio privileges, as well as professional mentors drew Kurt in.

He was nervous about applying and attending Northridge. Photography was very personal to him. It was his way to express himself in all the ways he couldn’t with words. He wasn’t very good with drawing or painting, but photography he excelled at. His art teacher in high school, Mrs. Hall, complemented him on his portfolio when he had asked for advice. Kurt went to a small school in Lima, Ohio that didn’t have it’s own dedicated photography program. Regardless, Mrs. Hall was more than willing to help him with his work.

His portfolio was small in the beginning, consisting mostly of photos of his friends. He had asked his friend Quinn to be his model many times. She was a gorgeous girl, one who could easily find herself on the cover of a magazine in the future. Kurt was lucky enough to be surrounded by friends that were more than willing to help. He had a couple photos of his Mercedes and one of his best friend Rachel (who practically begged Kurt to be a model). His friend Sam was kind enough to model for him and eventually Mike agreed to as well. He even talked his Glee club teacher Mr. Shuester into a couple photos, where he had his guitar perched in his lap.

“This one here,” Mrs. Hall pointed to the third picture of Quinn in his portfolio booklet. She was dressed in a solid black dress that hugged her body tightly around her thighs. Her toes were pointed inwards slightly; right arm placed at her hip and left arm hovering beside her jawline (fingers spread like feathers). Her makeup was flawless, with long lashes and thick black eyeliner that branched out like wings. “This is beautiful, Kurt. The lighting over her face is perfect, the way it vignettes around her legs… She looks so full of misery and yet there is so much beauty.” When Kurt had taken the photo, it was in honour of his lost companion, Pavarotti (his yellow canary). The photo of Quinn was titled ‘Blackbird’ to symbolize his death. The piece meant a great deal to him at the time, and still did to this day. It had been hard to express the feeling of loss he felt when Pav died, but he was able to through his art.

Mrs. Hall discussed his portfolio all lunch period with him. She complimented every single one of his portfolio choices (she especially enjoyed the shirtless photo of Sam). In the end, he had felt extremely confident in himself. Many people had told Kurt he was talented but he never let the praise go to his head. He feared the rejection he might experience once he left for college.

He did hours and hours of research on Northridge before choosing it as his college of choice. He mailed his portfolio for evaluation and received it back in the mail with an acceptance letter. His father and step-mother were so proud of him. His father Burt had always been supportive of his choice to pursue photography. Once he received his schedule, he decided to do some research on his professors.

His first professors were Mr. Dylan Thomas, Mrs. Andrew Newton, Mr. Blaine Anderson, Mr. Jules Tines, and Mr. William Hunt. Mr. Thomas was his post-production professor, Mrs. Newton would be teaching him film and art history, Mr. Anderson was his studio lighting teacher, Mr. Tines taught him theory and practical classes, while Mr. Hunt would be teaching him design. He also decided to take one night class, which was make-up artistry for photography taught by Mrs. Hellen Orthold. He was most looking forward to Mr. Anderson’s class, as most of his future work would be studio work. He had done some research on all of his professors, but may have spent a little extra time googling Blaine Anderson and pouring over the results.

To Kurt’s surprise, Mr. Anderson was quite a talented nature photographer. Kurt wondered why Mr. Anderson had become a studio lighting teacher when he clearly loved working outdoors. He picked through Mr. Anderson’s online portfolio, viewing page after page of images. Mr. Anderson clearly had the opportunity to travel as he had nature shots from all over the world. It wasn’t until he clicked onto Mr. Anderson’s biography page where he saw a photo of his future professor.

He was quite handsome, very young looking. He had a curly mop of dark brown hair on his head and beautiful hazel eyes. He held an expensive camera in his right hand, resting it on his hip (Kurt noticed Mr. Anderson was a Canon shooter). Mr. Anderson must have been the youngest out of his professors, and definitely the most attractive. Kurt figured he was looking forward to studio class just a little bit more than he was before he stumbled across the photo.

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Kurt finished packing up his life in Lima. He was both excited and terrified of leaving his small town. He had spent all 19 years of his life at home with his father and recently, his step-mom and step-brother. His step-brother Finn decided to stay in Lima on a football scholarship which he was thrilled about. Kurt could tell his father would have a difficult time letting his son go; they had been through everything together. As he packed up his room, he came across the first camera that Burt had given to him. He clutched it in his right hand fondly. Just holding it brought back all of the memories that the camera had captured during its’ lifetime.

“You were so happy when you opened that on Christmas day.” Burt said, leaning against Kurt’s bedroom doorway. Kurt jumped at the unexpected voice, wondering how long his father had been there.

“You scared me!” Kurt laughed and Burt chuckled, making his way over to sit next to Kurt on the bed.

“It was the only thing you asked for that year.” Burt gestured to the small digital camera in Kurt’s hands. “You wanted it more than anything you’ve ever wanted in your life. You would drop hints about it all the time to me; you probably don’t even remember that. You’ve come a long way since then, son.” Burt reached over to place his left arm around his sons shoulder and pulled him in.

“I’m so proud of you for pursuing what you love, even if it’s going to be a difficult journey. Your mother would be so proud, too.” Burt squeezed he’s son closer at the mention of his mother. His mother had been an incredibly talented painter. Burt always said that’s where Kurt got his artistic talent. It felt wonderful to carry around a little piece of her.

“Do you-“ Kurt swallowed and paused. “You think I’ve made the right decision? Sometimes I still doubt this is the right thing to do. I mean I love photography; I love it so much with all my heart. But I’m still terrified of being unsuccessful. What if I get there and everyone is so much better than me?” Kurt looked up to his father with sad eyes.

“Kurt,” Burt gave him a reassuring smile. “I may have some parental bias here, but you’ve got talent like I’ve never seen before. Even if you get to Northridge and there are better students, you’re there to learn aren’t you? You’re there to get better and learn from those profs of yours. If you were a perfect photographer, there wouldn’t be any use in going to college!” Burt chuckled as he finished and Kurt laughed with him. “Regardless of what happens, you’ll find your way. You always have.”

Kurt turned the camera around in his hands, pressing his thumb over the grip on the back. He smiled. He wondered what he did to deserve such a supportive father.

“Thanks dad.” He placed the camera on the bed next to him and wrapped himself around his fathers’ shoulders. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

“I’ll always be here, kiddo. We’ll just be a little farther apart, that’s all.” Burt was fighting back his emotions in order to appear strong in front of his son. The truth was that Burt was terrified of letting his son go off to college in another country. His parental instinct wanted him to keep Kurt in Lima longer, maybe until he got a little older. But he knew his son; his son would never sit around when his dreams were out there just waiting to be pursued. He held his son tightly to his chest before letting him go and standing up.

“Do you need any help with the packing? It looks like you’re almost finished in here.” Burt looked around the vacant room. He was already feeling a small pang of loss in his chest. Kurt shook his head, picking up the camera again.

“I’m almost finished, just about another half hour or so.” He carefully placed the camera into one of the bins on the floor.

“Sounds good. Dinner should be ready by then.” Kurt nodded as Burt left the room, closing the door halfway. Kurt looked around his empty room. He realized this was probably the last night he’d be in this room for a long time. Obviously he’d come back home for holidays to his old room, but it would be different. He wouldn’t be living at home anymore. He wondered if it would still feel like his room when he came back. He wondered if the house would feel the same. He shook his head, trying to erase the thoughts from his mind. This house would always be his home, it didn’t matter how things would change while he was gone. His family would always be there.

He moved to collect his antique cameras from a shelf over his desk. He had debated bringing them or not, but he loved the things. His mother had the first camera; it was a plastic German-made camera that she had gotten as a child. Burt had given it to him a few years ago and since then, his collection grew. Most of them didn’t work anymore but he didn’t mind. He enjoyed the worn leather and faded words. He wondered who might have used the cameras before they ended up on his bedroom shelf. He loved the history of it all. He folded up some of them, carefully pushing the lenses in so they wouldn’t get broken on the journey. He decided not to take his whole collection with him, leaving the most vulnerable and large ones behind. He placed them along with his first camera in a bin beside his bed.

After he was finished packing up his room he piled the bins and boxes outside his bedroom door. His dad and his stepmother were going to drive all of his things to Northridge with him and help him settle in to his dorm. He made his way down to dinner after that, sitting across from Finn. Finn looked slightly distressed as he chewed away at the food at his plate. The table in general was quieter than normal. It didn’t take Finn long to set his fork down and begin to speak.

“Do you know this is the last dinner you’re going to have here?” He looked at Kurt, sadness in his eyes.

“Finn, don’t be dramatic. It’s not like I’m going to die. I’ll be back for the holidays before you know it.” Kurt tried to laugh it off.

“I know,” Finn averted his gaze to the table. “It’s just going to be different without you here. I know we haven’t been living together all that long, but you’re my brother. It’s going to be weird without you here all the time.” Carole and Burt shared a knowing glance with each other. There was a short silence at the table before Finn spoke again.

“I’m going to miss you.” Finn looked back up to Kurt and Kurt gave him a sad smile. Finn and Kurt didn’t always see eye to eye, especially in the beginning. But Finn had grown up so much over the time they had been living together. He had turned out to be a great brother, better than Kurt could have imagined.

“I’m going to miss you too, Finn. But we’ll still get to talk, we’ll have Skype and email and all that.” He gave Finn a reassuring smile and the conversation drifted away from Kurt’s departure. Kurt could sense the mood over the table throughout dinner, but he was glad no one brought his leaving up again. He was sure once it hit him that he was moving away, it would be difficult for him. Kurt was thrilled about being able to study what he loved, even if it was far away from home. He knew millions of kids moved away from home and went to post-secondary schools, and he knew he’d be one of them very soon.