Chapter 1: Visions
January of 1974. By the cusp of the upcoming February. Seated alone by the table is a birthday boy who is casually drawing with a simple pen and paper.
He had grown to a four-year-old when midnight came last night, however, his reaction is contrary to what one should have at his age. Not much excitement could be traced on his cute face but poutful exasperation.
"They are late again!" The boy paused with a grumble but continued with the understanding that his party might be delayed or might not come at all. It was not like this was the first time this happened.
It was like this for his entire toddler period and he somehow never sought to question why it was so or eventually got used to it. He might be somewhat ignorant, as expected of a child, but he is an exceptionally sensible one.
He grew up knowing that his grandfather was busy with his toy business. His father was occupied with directing films. As for his grandmother and mother, he never met them as he was told they went to heaven.
Thus, Alexander developed to be quite an understanding child.
Since his family was focused on their respective jobs, he learned from it and busied himself with a hobby. Born out of spite or just pure fascination, he prioritized developing the skill set needed for his particular interest.
The pen and paper on the tabletop are enough to tell most people that this hobby was, but of course, drawing. He doodled scrap as a tiny one-year-old and threw himself at filling those blank papers for the years to come.
This interest of his was quite a fascinating discovery for his father and grandfather. While it was a breath of relief for the babysitters that they hired to take care of him.
"You, busy! I, busy as well!" The boy pronounced proudly to them. Much to the grimace and laughs of the workaholic patriarchs.
It was a skewed practice to not give the young boy attention that he needed and could even be detrimental to his mentality. Yet, they were eased from his declaration that they sunk even deeper into their fields with worries off their shoulders.
It was not a secret that their toy business and film practice was at the bottom of their respective competitive circles. The simple thought that their burdensome stress was not much of a hindrance to their little guy was enough for them to strive onwards.
Things passed as they should and the weird family dynamic went on. The only positive note was the impressive progress that the little one had from doodling to passable drawings.
His little drawing project while he waited for his tardy family members could be considered impressive with regard to his current age.
A four-year-old child drawing a widely used 70's film camera is considered not bad. Progressing his skills at this level with zero help from his complacent babysitters is quite the feat.
"Maybe another one." After giving his drawing some finishing touches and judging that he will be alone for quite another while, he got an unmarked piece of paper and prepared to start drawing whatever comes to mind.
Or so he thought.
Images suddenly surged on the boy's head.
If anything it would have been considered as a surge of inspiration, an epiphany of sorts, if it happened to anyone else.
But this was different. It was different because of the realism and experience that somewhat came with it.
He unknowingly immersed himself in the life of another person and marveled at the wondrous advances that this person's world had.
Before, the boy naively thought that the current year of 1974 was already alright. Now, all he could blurt out was that the entire '70s was bleak and trashy compared to the future.
Advanced phones, cars, weapons, and technology! Discoveries and revelations were being disseminated to all. Innovative concepts that dull the current timeline and its mainstream progress.
The internet is the trend, the Information age it brought, as well as the greater prospects even after that.
It was a mind-blowingly monumental brainstorm that words could not properly describe.
The young boy did not have a headache in a sense while in this freak occurrence. He just sat there in a trance but awoke from his immersion as he heard the car horns beeping from outside.
"What awful timing! Can't these geezers be any more uncooperative?!" He mouthed out in a complaint that would have shocked his babysitter. The usually quiet and innocent boy suddenly had a more mature bearing around him.
Scurrying to the front door, he vigilantly checked the windows first. After knowing his safety, he unlocked whatever should be unlocked.
"Hello to the party poopers!" Giving his best innocent act so as to not worry the seniors of his inexplicable brain surge, he greeted the newcomers with a cute pout.
"Haha! What did I tell you, Mark? The birthday boy is fuming mad. You better have a great gift ready!"
"Of course, I have one, Dad! It's your gift you should be worried about because he said 'party poopers' and that's a plural."
A father-son banter rang from the driveway as the boy welcomed the smiles of his grandfather and father. Although they might come off as unreliable most of the time, they still have their moments.
The Creed trio converged at their front porch and hugged away, much to the grimace of their onlooking neighbors.
It was somewhat of a delight to see three generations of the patriarchal Creed family act this way. They were quite handsome as well, so it was a bonus to the eyes.
Sullivan Creed, the 60-year-old grandfather made money through the toy industry. Although his business was diminishing and was at a retiring age, the old man made his mark by being stubborn and holding the fort of his merchandise.
Mark Creed, the 42-year-old father that branched out from old Sullivan's legacy and took to the filming industry. He was a quirky producer and director among the many hopefuls in Hollywood.
The youngest, Alexander Creed, is an unusual child with not much association with the outside but the neighbors knew that he had a fascination with the arts.
A family with a less than fortunate fate with their womenfolk, however, they still remained harmonious despite the divergent trajectories that their corresponding interests are in.
A businessman, a filmmaker, and an artist. Quite the assortment that their little family has.
The trio proceeded inside their home after their greetings and coaxing the feigningly furious young Alexander with their gifts.
A simple yet bountiful meal is to be held but who's to say that this simple birthday party would remain simple?
After all, the young artist recently received mind-boggling visions!
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
UniVerseLessOne
UniVerseLessOne This is just going to be plain horrendous and disgusting than my main work.
You've been warned!
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