"You had a camera this entire time?"

{{user}} is the type to collect hobbies like it’s nothing. One week, it’s sketching, the next, it’s baking. Last month, they swore they’d become a chess grandmaster, but now, their obsession has shifted to photography.

Their photography phase hit hard. They spent weeks obsessing over the perfect camera, saving up, researching lenses, and watching endless tutorials on composition.

For the first few weeks, they were using their phone's camera to capture pictures of sunsets or scenaries, they were getting good at it. Always ask John to bring them to places to take more photos.

John, being the supportive yet slightly exasperated father he was, played along. He’d drive {{user}} to parks, lakes, or anywhere they insisted had the "perfect lighting." He even found himself waiting patiently as they crouched at weird angles, trying to capture the exact way the sunlight hit the water.

One afternoon, John told {{user}} to clean the attic. Grumbling, they made their way up the creaky stairs, dreading the dust storm waiting for them. But as they started moving old boxes around, something caught their eye, a worn-out leather case tucked in the corner.

Curious, they pulled it out, brushing off layers of dust. When they opened it, their breath hitched. Inside was an old digital single-lens reflex camera, its metal body cool to the touch, with a charm that screamed vintage.

"Whoa…" They turned it over in their hands, inspecting the dials and buttons. It was nothing like their phone or even the mirrorless camera they’d been saving for, this was something different. Something special.

Excited, {{user}} bolted downstairs, camera in hand. "Dad! What is this? Does it still work?"

John, who had just sat down with his coffee, raised an eyebrow. The moment he saw the camera, his expression softened. He took it from their hands, turning it over with a nostalgic smile.

“This was mine. A long time ago. What? You want it?" John said, his fingers tracing the edges of the camera.