November 2018 - Senior Year, High School
It was done. All applications were sent in and he just had to wait. He applied to 8 schools, a nice number, not too few and not too many. Sam had applied to 20. He was a little more nervous than Jon was, even though he was one of the smartest ones in the class. Jon's top was still CalArts. He probably won't get in. Admissions might just laugh and throw his application away. A small-town boy from Massachusetts thinks he could be a photographer? How funny is that? Maybe he should've applied to more schools. Is there still time?
He texts Dany. They haven't spoken in months.
-November 14 8:00PM: Hey Dany, I miss you. Are you applying to schools? Do you still think you'll apply to UCLA? Hope to talk to you soon, Jon-
-November 15 2:23PM: Hi Jon! It's so nice to hear from you. Yes, I already sent in my application to UCLA. Hope you're doing well-
It would be nice to see her again. He followed her life through her Instagram. She became quite the New Yorker. He thinks her Instagram aesthetic is on point as well as her style. She's turned more towards blacks and whites. Rompers were in and so were off shoulder tops. Sometimes when he's scrolling past her pictures, he mistakes her from one of those Instagram models that Sansa is always following. How she was getting into all these exclusive parties, he didn't know. Her number of followers increased by the day.
. . . . .
January 2018 - Senior Year, High School
He definitely should've applied to more schools. Classmates keep getting accepted and although he gives them a 'congratulations' and 'I knew you were going to get in,' he just couldn't help but think about his empty mailbox. No small letters or big envelopes. They should be coming. Did something get lost in the mail. He didn't want to spend the next year of his life working some menial job downtown. How would his sibling look at him knowing that he couldn't succeed?
. . . . .
February 2018 - Senior Year, High School
He was going to work at the 7-11 by the corner of Main Street. That was it. If he doesn't receive a letter soon, that's where you will find him next year. It's decided. He better get a job application.
. . . . .
March 2018 - Senior Year, High School
He got in. Not all of them, but he got into CalArts. Everyone knew he was going to get in. He should throw away the 7-11 application.
-March 21st 4:00PM: Hi Dany! I just got into CalArts. How is your college search going? Heard back from UCLA?-
-March 25th 1:00AM: Sorry, Jon. Your text got lost in my messages. I'm on my way back from my internship and I am completely wiped. Congrats! I knew you would get in. I got into UCLA!-
-March 25th 8:00AM: No worries at all. Congrats to you too! Are you thinking of going?-
-March 25th 11:48PM: Yes! I'm still waiting on a few more but as of right now, UCLA is my top pick.-
. . . . .
April 2018 - Senior Year, High School
He should pick that 7-11 application out of the trash. The financial aid package he got from CalArts was disappointing to say the least. See you next year behind the counter serving hot dogs and selling cigarettes.
. . . . .
May 2018 - Senior Year, High School
He sent in his commitment deposit to CalArts. His parents looked at their assets and they have enough to get him through the first two years. The rest will have to go to student loans. He hopes it will be worth it.
. . . . .
August 2019 - Freshman Year
"Jon, I swear, if we don't leave now, we're going to miss your flight," Catelyn yelled up the staircase. Swinging a backpack around his shoulder and holding two overflowing suitcases with his free hands, Jon made it down the stairs and out the door. Once he got everything situated in the car, moving his luggage around like jigsaw pieces, he looked up by the door. Sansa had an arm wrapped around Arya and Bran and Rickon were sitting on the steps, picking grass from the lawn.
Jon walked towards them and as he did, Arya ran to him and circled her arms around his waist. "Don't leave," she mumbled into his chest.
Jon tilted her head up until she was looking at him, "I have to, Arya. Before you know it, I'll be back home."
"You're not coming home until Thanksgiving," Sansa mumbled under her breath. As Jon turned to look at her, she averted his gaze, turning away from him so he wouldn't see the tears running down her face.
"Come here," Jon welcomed her and wrapped Sansa in a big, bear hug. Bran and Rickon followed suit.
They stood like that for a moment. This was the place where Jon taught Bran and Rickon how to ride bikes. It was the driveway where Sansa tried to sell lemonade to the neighbors. This was the exact location Arya fell when she was four when she was running away from Robb and had to go the hospital for a broken arm. Now they were older, maybe not wiser, but they were definitely older.
Jon looked around the front yard, trying to take it all in. He kissed each one of his siblings on the head before walking towards the car where Catelyn and Ned were waiting for him.
Next stop, California.
He wondered if he would see her in California, maybe in the airport or at the beach. Maybe he would run into her while trying to get groceries. He probably should've caught up with her. The last time they texted was months ago.
-August 28th 4:00PM: Hey, Dany. Long time, no text. How are you? I'm actually in California. Maybe we could catch up sometime now that you're going to UCLA.-
-August 28th 10:32PM: Hi, Jon. Have fun in Cali. I can definitely recommend you some places. I'm sorry we haven't talked in awhile too. I'm actually not going to UCLA. I was waiting for my decision letter from Columbia. Rhaegar thinks it would be good for me to stay close. Even though that's not my main reason, Columbia was my top pick. I just didn't think I was going to get in. It's near home and it actually has one of the best, if not THE best, political science programs in the country.-
-August 28th 10:35PM: Don't worry about it. I'm so happy for you-
Home was New York for her now.
Jon stopped looking for a petite girl with platinum blonde hair in every supermarket he went to.
. . . . .
August 2019 - Freshman Year
He hated it. He hated everything about it. It was hot, sweltering hot. He needed to buy a whole new wardrobe. He felt like he was melting every second of every day. He couldn't see why anyone would like this. He just wanted to sit in an air conditioned building. CalArts wasn't in LA or in the mountains. It was somewhere in the middle. He felt like he was somewhere in the middle.
He hated how everything looked so modern and new. Coming from New England, nothing could beat the old redstones and historic buildings. He hated the people. They all thought they were too cool. They were into records and obscure bands. They raved about weird food combinations. His roommate brought him a donut stuffed with ice cream the other day. They went to thrift shops and lived off coffee. They smoked weed by the side of the dormitories and they thought their Instagram page was a full-time job.
They took pictures, yes, and most of them were good. Jon was definitely impressed by all the talent at CalArts. They just wouldn't stop talking about pictures. Aperture this, shutter speed that. Jon just wanted to go home.
. . . . .
August 2020 - Sophomore Year
Jon loved it. He loved how open the campus was and how he would just find people chilling outside, talking about Monet and Picasso. He got used to the food and it was beautiful to see the mountains from his dorm room.
He found out that he could rent camera lens for free and he pretty much tried them all by now. His photographs were shown in the freshman show last May and he was so proud.
He started liking coffee now. Sansa thinks he is becoming too cool for her. "A man bun, artisanal coffee, talks about the meaning of life, you're a hipster now."
Jon would just shake his head. He never wanted to leave CalArts, but in just a year he would be away from school for a semester. He was excited to be studying in London for the semester, but he would also miss his life here.
. . . . .
August 2021 - Junior Year
He was ready. He had his boarding pass and passport in one hand and his camera bag in the other. See you later, America. His new life in London was just about to start.