Chapter Text
Shawn loved photography. It seemed to him that he could keep people with him. He was constantly afraid of being abandoned, as Virna had done, as Chet had done, but with photos he could always keep people with him. He hated that Chet had left him with Mr. Turner, that he only contacted him once a month, and that he always postponed the day he was supposed to come and take him home.
He hated that Chet, even when they lived together, didn’t pay attention to him.
Sometimes, as much as he missed the freedom he had in the trailer park, he found comfort when Jon grounded him. Jon cared about Shawn’s safety, his education, and tried to be emotionally close to him, even though Hunter, rather than talking about his problems seriously, without joking, would start doing homework for every single subject. There was an adult that was paying attention to him, someone who showed him that he cared about him, someone who showed him that after a mistake or a problem, he didn’t have to take off as his mother had done.
Despite this, he didn’t feel direct hatred towards his parents; he always hoped that Chet and Virna would come back to him. He carefully kept the photos they had together, looked at them every night before going to sleep and hoped to take one of his parents when they would come back to get him. Shawn was gradually losing hope. His attachment to the photos he had of his parents increased day by day because he felt that they probably wouldn’t come back to get him. And so, as soon as he had the chance to have a camera in his hands offered by the school, he became very passionate about photography. If someone else left, he would always have a photo.
He loved photographing places and landscapes; as a child, he had to change schools five times, often moved with the trailer park, and had no stability. And so, again, he photographed landscapes, the city of philadelphia, in case he had to leave, in case he decided to run away as his parents had done. But despite all this thoughts on his mind, Shawn didn’t reveal to anyone why he loved photography.
“I just like it, people say I’m good at it” .
This was his answer. Always. Some had pointed out to him that with every shot, with every photo, his eyes lit up. Cory, Topanga, Jon, and even Feeny had asked him what tied him so much to photography.
He would never have answered. He was simply the handsome boy at school, a troublemaker, and he wouldn’t reveal to anyone everything that was behind his love for photography. He didn’t want to show his sensitivity, after all, what was the point? Chet had seen his son’s eyes losing their sparkle when he left him at the Matthews’ house. Shawn had explained several times, even over the phone, to his father how much he wanted to be with him, he had even cried in front of Chet. It didn't worked.
What was the point of showing his sensitivity if even his father didn’t care? This is what Shawn thought every time his pain was so strong that he considered going to Jon to talk. But Jon wasn’t his father. If his father didn’t care, then why tell Jon? And so, to avoid falling into the vortex of sadness that threatened to embrace him more and more each day, Shawn decided to get into some troube and didn't care about the consequences. It was his way of showing others that he was tough. Probably it was a way to prove it to himself.