1 Life of the Poet

By Skye Rocket

Disclaimer: I don't own Christian, Moulin Rouge, etc.

Author's Note: Hey peeps! I would just like to make a note that I assumed that Christian was 26 at the time of the movie. So I made a timeline. Mad props to me, I have such attention to detail. Good lord I am a freak. ^__^

Summary: It's Christian's life! Simple enough. :)

~1873~

It was early on a foggy morning in April. April 19th, to be exact. Everyone would be asleep; at least under normal circumstances. But in the Matthews household there was chaos. If it was early now, it was hard to imagine that the whole house had been awake long before then.

Why? A new member of the family had just been born. And he had been named Christian David Matthews, after his mother's father. He had been born into a rich, well off family. His father was Harrison Alexander Matthews, proprietor of a wealthy coal firm. His mother was Sophia Anne Matthews.

But Christian and his parents weren't the only ones in the family. Christian also had a sister. Her name was Abigail Elizabeth Matthews. She was six years older than her new baby brother was.

"Here's your baby boy," a voice said to Mrs. Matthews, handing baby Christian to his mother in her bed. She held her baby and gently cooed to him. He was perfect, she thought. "Do you have a name for him?"

"Christian. Christian David," Sophia said softly. She smiled faintly.

"Mother, can I hold him?" Abigail asked timidly. She stood next to her mother's bed and watched her mother holding her new little baby brother. She was so excited about finally having a sibling, even if she would have preferred a sister.

"Sure, darling," Sophia said warmly. Abigail clapped her hands happily as her mother handed her Christian. Harrison Matthews stood, proudly looking down on his family. He smiled faintly.

"He's perfect," Harrison said proudly, his hand resting on his wife's shoulder. She smiled as proudly as he was. Harrison had huge plans for his son from the minute he was born. Of course, he would work at his business. He'd be athletic, popular, handsome, smart…Harrison couldn't help dreaming about how perfect his son should grow up to be.

Meanwhile, Sophia wanted her son to branch away from the coal business and do what he wanted to do. Maybe he could write for a newspaper. Something like that. She smiled for what seemed like the millionth time since she met her new child. She could imagine him growing up shy but handsome, and especially smart.

Abigail didn't care much about what Baby Christian grew up to be. She imagined, for a minute, dressing him up and pushing him down the street in a baby buggy, like she did with her baby dolls. Of course, her new brother was like a baby doll. But a real baby doll! And someday Christian could talk to her…they'd be best friends. She smiled too, along with the two of her parents.

Of course, Christian didn't care what he grew up to be. At least, not yet.

*******

Well blow me down. The first chapter of my new fic. Hope you enjoyed. I'd like to take this opportunity to talk to you (the reader) what I have in mind, or at least the general direction of this story. The details are secrets! ^__^

Okay, I decided that in the movie, Christian was probably twenty six. You follow me so far? LOL. So then I worked out all the years and how old he was in those years leading up to 1899. And we all know what happened then, don't we? And so I am going to write my little 'life story' up until that point, probably when he leaves for Montmartre. Simple enough. Oh, and just FYI, I have no idea if Christian has a sister. LOL. So there you have it! Have fun today! Peace.

Oh! I just thought of something random. In my gifted class we did independent study, and we had to write reflections. We tried to make our teacher mad a lot. So I typed the word 'peace' after each of my answers, such as:

"I enjoyed my project because I found interior design very interesting peace!"

Naturally, she made me change it, but my classmates like it. ^__^ I'm evil. I should have told her I was advocating peace.

Not that you wanted to read all about that, I'm sure.

Til Next Time,

Skye Rocket