A/N: Day 11, Dreams. Another College AU. This one takes place after Callum's already sketched her, so yeah. I say that because the whole sketching thing happens literally right after Game On, so only for continuities sake. Anyways, enjoy!

Chapter Summary: Rayla never quite understood the whole concept of dreams. Everyone's got something they aspire to be, they strive toward. But she never got that chance. Maybe she should ask the artist? College AU.

Word Count: 2,866

Dreams

"What made ya want to be an artist?"

The question seemed so abrupt to Callum her startled himself from his work. Raising his head from his desk, he turned over to his bed, where laid Rayla. She was lying stomach down, attempting to work on her homework from Philosophy. He was sketching once more, practicing his anatomy lessons her learned earlier her day. They decided to work together, but Callum quickly learned Rayla was more of a chat and talk kind of student. Not that he minded of course.

He chuckled as he furrowed a brow at her. "What brought that on?"

She dropped her pencil and looked at Callum, shrugging nonchalantly. "I dunno. I just… I guess I realize I've never asked."

Callum smirked at her, clearly not buying her nonchalance, but deciding to throw a bone regardless. "Well, what didn't?" He smiled to himself thoughtfully. "Everywhere around me there was art. Growing up, it was hard not to notice. My mom loved exposing me to some of her favourite Shakespearen plays, and showing me her craft work that she did in her younger days." He smiled. "She used to spend her entire teen years just, doing art. The amount of stuff she made, the things she showed me? It was insane."

Rayla smiled. "That sounds nice."

"Yeah…" he released a content sigh. "My step-dad did his fair share too. Although his tastes kinda varied from me a bit, he also loved exposing me to literature. Moby Dick, Grapes of Wrath, Lord of the Flies, he introduced all those classics even though they were, two or three reading levels above mine."

"Wow…" Rayla said in awe. "So… ya've practically been inspired by a young age, eh?"

Callum chuckled. "I guess you could say that. But… I didn't want to be an artist until like, my last years in elementary school."

"Where?"

The artist had almost forgotten the girl before him hadn't even originated from his country. He had yet to really ask about her past and such, but gathered she moved to america specifically for Katolis College, so she hadn't exactly grown up here, but fairly understood a few bits and piece of American culture. "Oh uh, they're like," he stopped to ponder his explanation, "uhh, you guys have primary schools, right?"

"Aye."

"Well, they're like the same thing. Some vary to like, kindergarten to grade five, others go to grade eight," Callum explained, "And well, for my school, it went to grade eight."

"And ya didn't realize ya wanted to be an artist until then?"

He nodded. "Maybe around like, grade seven more accurately, but yeah." Callum smiled as he remembered how it all began. "I was uh, from a young age, like around grade 1 or something, my folks and teachers realized I was gifted."

"What, were ya creating paintings that could rival Picasso?" the football player teased.

Callum laughed. "No, no, nothing like that," he shook his head, "I apparently have photographic memory."

Rayla's eyes went wide. "Oh…" she said, clearly surprised. "Wow… that's, that's amazing!"

His cheeks faintly flushed at the compliment as he attempted to brush it off, "Nah, it's-it's not a big deal." He waved his hand dismissively. "An-Anyways, it's just, they realized it and after a bunch of tests, it was true. So… yeah, that sorta made studying and schoolwork a bit easier."

Rayla laughed. "I'd imagine so," she mused. "Ya're the ideal package! Smart, cute, and artsy," she finished with a wink just for good measure.

It seemed Callum's cheeks were dependant on betraying him that day, as he felt them darken even more. "W-Well, not exactly," he corrected. "I uh, didn't exactly do well in math. And when it came to application questions, I didn't really set the bar high."

When Rayla's brow raised in confusion, Callum sighed. "Just because I have the photographic memory, doesn't mean I have the knack for actually understanding what I remember," he sadly explained. "My, 'gift', if you can call it that, sure made studying things like the sciences a breeze, the memorization with chemistry and biology flew past with ease. But… actually applying what I learned? Like, thinking questions? I tanked them almost all the time." His smile was plastered on with no warmth, it was a sad smile. "I-I could remember all the formulas and equations, sure, but… I just… never understood how to really, apply them. Like, actually use them the way they were supposed to. Memorization practically means nothing if you can't understand what you're memorizing."

A rough silence stirred between the two. Rayla had risen up and was now sitting cross legged on Callum's bed, frowning. She looked like she was pitying him. He couldn't blame her. He practically shut down the cool idea that was photographic memory, and replaced it with something like it was a curse that he couldn't accept.

"It's like," she spoke up, "there's a difference between memorizing and understanding…"

His eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah, exactly," he smiled. "How'd you… yeah."

She shrugged. "It's kinda the reason why I actually like literature growing up," she explained, "A lot of my other classmates just memorized all the themes we talked about in class, and all the quotes, and all that junk. But I… I could tell none of them really bothered to understand literature. They were all smart kids, so they studied literature like any other science. But… it's more than that." She smiled as she looked down at her fumbling thumbs. "They can remember all we talked about in class, all the themes and metaphors we discussed, but they'd never really feel them."

Callum couldn't help but smile at her. Of course, out of all the people he's met in his life, she'd be the one person who could actually understand what he has been going through. He chuckled as he shook his head. "That's exactly why I fell into the arts," he said in a soft tone. When he was met with her curious and intrigued smile, he smirked back. Homework and sketches be darned, this was clearly going to be a long one.

"Like I said, I didn't get maths and all that. But, man, I remember the first painting I saw." He laughed, realizing the irony. "I mean, of course I would," Rayla rolled her eyes, "but it was… it was life changing. It wasn't the first painting I ever saw, but it was the first one that really moved me."

"Anyone famous?"

"Yeah, but it'll surprise you," he warned with a smile. "Starry Night," he said with a whispered pizazz.

Rayla furrowed her brows. "Really? Of all the Van Gogh's, I would've thought it would be somethin' like The Church at Auvers, or The Potato Eaters, heck, maybe even Starry Night Over the Rhône!" she laughed. "I mean, it's a beautiful one, no doubt his most famous piece."

Callum nodded. "Yeah… but, it just, the emotions I felt when I saw it. I felt like, this was telling me something. It was showing me… something I never had before." He smiled as he remembered all the feelings that overwhelmed him that day as a young boy. "After all the other things I've seen, and memorized, seeing Starry Night made me finally understand something for once. I felt Van Gogh's emotions against the brush, the story within the skies, the dimness and light he illustrated." He released a wondrous sigh. "It-It just hit me all at once and… it felt good. It felt amazing. That, I could not only understand the emotions, this, illness he wanted to capture, the contrast of death and life all around this asylum—it hit me all at once." Callum looked at Rayla with a proud smile. "It was the one thing I was glad to have stuck in my mind."

Rayla stared at him with awe. "Wow… that… that sounds beautiful Callum."

"Thanks," he replied.

"So… your photographic memory led ya to the arts?" she clarified, still curious.

"Yup. If I have the memory, I decided I might as well fill it up with things I actually like," he jested, shrugging with nonchalance.

Rayla chuckled. "That's amazing…" Her frown formed as she looked down at her schoolwork. "Sounds like ya've had your whole life ready."

"Aw, c'mon, like you haven't?" Callum retorted. "You're the star of our football team! Soon NFL scouts will be on your radar and you'll be on… whatever the best team is for the NHL."

Rayla rolled her eyes and snorted. "The New Orleans Saints, and no, I'm more of a Seahawks fan," she proudly informed him. Callum threw up his hands in innocence and shrugged. "But… it's not that," she frowned. "I… I dunno."

Callum frowned at Rayla. Scooting forward on his office chair, he rolled over to his bed and placed his hand on her knee. "Hey, c'mon, talk to me." She stared back at him, hesitant. "This is about why you asked me, huh?"

She nodded.

"Well… I'm all ears," he gestured to her.

Rayla let out a deep sigh. "It's… complicated." Callum restrained himself from rolling his eyes. That was the most vague cliche to start with. "I… I'm not some, big shot football player because I've been watching American football in Scotland since I was a wee lass, and I've always dreamed about making it to the big leagues!" she said in a dramatic high voice. "I was never like that." Callum's confusion only egged her on. "I… there was a football club at my old highschool and… my dads lived in America for a few years and loved playing football in their free time. So, of course they brought that passion with them when they came home. Whenever they were off from work they'd just play in the yard, tossing the ball back and forth. Of course I joined, and so, when I heard there was a team at my school, I wanted to see what else the sport had in store!" she cheerily smiled.

Callum smiled back at her exposition.

"It turns out when ya've been playing football ever since ya were six, that makes ya a real star athlete in terms of a rookie team that apparently just got put together during my first year," she said in a shy voice, erupting in nervous laughter at the end.

Callum's jaw dropped. "Well yeah," he exclaimed, "practicing from a young age kinda helps!" He laughed, shaking his head at Rayla's sudden shyness.

Rayla scoffed as she lightly thumped his shoulder. "That's besides the point!" she shot back. "An-And it wasn't like I was a star wide receiver, or the best tackle or center, because all I really practised was just throwing!"

The realization hit Callum like the sudden reveal in a mystery movie. "And that's how you became a star Quarterback!" he said, eyes widening at the conclusion. "Wow…"

Rayla sighed. "Aye… from then on, I… I maintained my grades, I kept above honours and such, I-I loved English and all the Humanities courses." Her small smile, that had briefly returned, faltered. "But… my dads said football was a good pastime and I shouldn't stay on the team if I wasn't going to give it my all." She shrugged. "At first, it was for fun, but since our rising rookie team started winning tournaments and championships, whatever ya call 'em, it brought the attention of a lot of people. People with strings." She frowned. "A bunch of college scouts from America made the trip to Scotland to see my last game. We won, decimated the team, and it was great!" Callum laughed at her cheery recap. "But, that win was so good I got riddled with dozens of offers from college scouts."

Callum's eyes went wide once more. "Whoa…"

"Yup," Rayla nodded. "So I basically lost any all chances at, well, deciding my future because how can I, a girl with a low income household, turn down a scholarship offer at some of the best Colleges in America?" She scoffed. "I couldn't do that to my parents. Not especially after all they did to encourage my playing." Her smile returned as it seemed with the memories associated with it. "But, I actually enjoyed school! English class was my favourite, I loved every second of it. And…" she stopped herself, as if she was too ashamed to say it.

Callum's eyes darted over to her Philosophy book, and it hit him. He leaned over and held her hands, halting them from twiddling around with her thumbs. "Philosophy."

She nodded, shamefully, as if she had committed a sin. "I… I had so much fun… I actually loved learning about Metaphysics and Ethics, and how Philosophers debunked and proved theories and beliefs back then. I… I loved it. But… football came easy to me. Football just, happened. And… I was told that life doesn't always hand ya stuff, so when it does, ya better be acceptin' with open hands." She shook her head. "If I had this one talent that made me, well… me. If it could make my dads happy… then… I had to." She smiled as she looked up at Callum. "But, the offer still came to me and I had to make my choice, so I settled on the one option that made sense. The one school that made me an offer and had a prestigious art program."

Callum smiled. "Katolis College."

"Katolis College," she echoed, nodding her head. "So yeah… I… I'm here, and I-I do love the sport! But… this," she flicked her open book. "It's still fun."

Callum frowned. "And because you're on a scholarship, you can't drop the ball."

Rayla shook her head. "Nope, gotta keep on throwing it. It's how I can stay." She shrugged. "Part of me wants to leave, to go back and just… I dunno. But, another part of me wants to stay here to see… what I can do. If… If there really is a shot for me here. I just… I don't know what I want to do. I'm in college, and I still don't know where I can go from here."

Callum stared at her, wordlessly. That… was a lot to take in. Practically everything he knew about her just shifted to fit this gap of a history lesson. That sucked. He had no idea what to say. He had his life figured out and molded by his interests, but Rayla never got the chance. "I'm… sorry. That… you're stuck with football"

Rayla scoffed, retracting her hands from his. He hadn't even realized he was holding them for that long. "Don't be. I like football. I do. Love it in fact! I just… I dunno if this was what I wanted to become." She looked at Callum with a small smile. "When I asked ya what made ya want to be an artist, I just… I wanted to know if all dreams started out like mine. Like… there was always this other path, but ya're forced to go down one way because—"

"It's easier," Callum finished. Rayla stared at him, surprised. "Rayla, as an artist, let me just say, shooting for your dreams is always hard." He laughed humorlessly. "It's never easy. And it is a struggle. But, the struggle is different for all of us. I had to overcome my whole photographic memory thing and apply to what I love. Others, they need to settle on what they want and how they want to do it. Some know everything they want to be and become, but can't afford it!" He grabbed her hand and smiled. "The point is. Whatever you want to be, you can still decide. And it's not too late. If you're still pursuing Philosophy and Literature because you want to, that's fine! But eventually, down the road, you're gonna discover which path you want. Right now you're one of the few people who can actually have a choice later on in life. You get to decide what you want to be, because you worked hard what you loved."

Rayla seemed to stare thoughtfully at the artist, letting his words soak in. She embraced his hand, smiling at him and nodded. "Ya're right. I… I can decide."

He nodded. "Exactly."

"I love my studies, and I love football," she exclaimed, "I can do both for now!"

Callum nodded again. "Exactly."

"An-And, when I'm ready, I'll tell my dads!" she whispered.

Callum squeezed her hand. "And I can help with that, if you want."

Rayla smirked. "And what, buy ya your own ticket to Scotland? I'm here on scholarship, I'm not made of money!"

The two shared a laugh, echoing the room with their reunited joy. Neither of them could be bothered to notice how long they stared into each other's eyes. Or how comforting it felt to hold each other's hands. None of them realized how much of their lives they just dumped onto each other, and how much that meant to them. They couldn't be bothered to even consider how close they were, laughing in pure bliss. What that meant to them, could be decided in the future.

Only in their wildest dreams.

A/N: So, once again, I made another College AU. I'm not sure what really made me want to make it an AU, but I guess the concept for dreams really opted well for college at least. Can you tell I just graduated high school? Yeah, still big on the whole dreams thing so of course I've non stop been thinking about my future. It's scary shit. So, I decided to put a little spin on things and drop some lore behind College AUs Callum and Rayla. I sort of retconned a segment in the last College AU, instead of making Runaan the coach I made Harrow the coach now. And if you know the TDP lore, then it should be a fairly subtle nod toward who Rayla's parents are.

That aside, I hope you guys liked it! This was dialogue heavy, and it was rough. But I'm happy I got it up in time!

tomorrow is hugs/holding hands!

Until next time,

- Bleh