Tall, skinny and pale, Christopher wears an air of pretentiousness that can never truly be matched. His wide, thick-rimmed spectacles frame observant pools of crystal blue, resting on a puffy, long-bridged nose. However, this thick upper frame is not enough to hide his large, wispy eyebrows, as they instead find themselves poking up from underneath the rim. Above those are frizzy, deep black locks, cut short and swept over onto his face, in a somewhat casually formal style, complete with cleanly trimmed sideburns that reach just short of his earlobe. His smooth complexion is dotted with occasional freckles, and despite their small quantity, they are very much noticeable due to their dark colour. A somewhat weak chin rests just above long, pale lips, from which emerge flat yet honeyed tones. All of these features combine together to form a childlike appearance, making it hard to believe the boy is a 19-year-old. Most of Christopher's emotions are expressed through his facial features, as opposed to his plummy voice; he's almost a master at silent expression.
As for his clothing, it's very much what you might expect from someone of his upbringing. He's never seen without wearing a long-sleeved, plain color Oxford button-up, some kind of top-brand logo visible on the chest and the last button left loose. His choice of pants can differ slightly, though it's almost always blueish grey, tight fitting jeans, paired with sturdy, short formal boots; the jeans over the edge of the boot, never tucked in. On lazy days, he can sometimes be caught wearing a zip-up hoodie, but his preferred choice of coat is a half-thin, half-thick parka jacket - the seaweed outer fabric and fluffy cream lining are always a win for him.
Christopher's life has been... privileged, to say the least. He was born Christopher Jameston Pope to an upper-middle class family, in the great old city of Hartford, Connecticut. His mother, Julia, worked at a hugely successful pharmaceutical firm, earning her upwards of $95,000, whereas Malcolm - his quick witted father - was a member of the army. Young Christopher looked up to the both of them; Malcolm for his headstrong attitude that he wore like a medal, and Julia for her successful career and business skills. He had a sheltered childhood, receiving education at home, via a private tutor that his mother's wage easily paid for. The boy was attentive and eager to learn in his lessons, getting above average grades and sometimes even requesting extended lessons. Of course, his parents agreed to it, enjoying the fact that their son was so invested in academics. He was never really raised with any specific ideals, left to develop them on his own, which he eventually did. His interest was always to become a part of a successful business, with a career that could afford him a large, expensive house and lots of recognition to boot. Of course, that time was years away, and so he concentrated on learning everything he could that would help him to seek his goals.
When Christopher turned fourteen, he was taken aback when he received the news he would be attending a school. Having never spent much time outside, except to go on daytrips during the rare moments his father was home, it was no surprise that he was more than anxious about the whole ordeal. However, his mother insisted, stating that he'd never get anywhere if he spent his teenage years cooped up in the house, he'd have less success in life and would be socially inept. Never the one to go against his mother's word, he attended the first day of school, fighting against his restrictive uniform as he walked up to the gates of Watkinson School. Unfortunately, all of his nervousness was well-founded, as after a mere week he'd garnered much more attention than wanted. It seemed that a sheltered awkward pubescent boy had more appeal than the rest of the awkward pubescent boys in his class. There started what he considered the worst year of his life - the "initiation" year.
It seemed uppity upper class snobs were not that different than regular high school cliques. If they could find a way to make Christopher's life a living hell, they'd do it, all for the sake of looking cool. However, what they did was much worse than physical pain; it was psychological torture, if you were to ask Christopher. Every walk to the classroom was a paranoid shuffle through dark, looming corridors, trying to guess which person was insulting him behind his back. Girls would giggle to each other when he walked past, and guys would call out repetitive insults that still managed to cut just as deep as the first time. Despite this, none of them managed to cut as deep as Jessica Roper.
Oh, how he loathed Jessica Roper.
Christopher's first interaction with "the real life Regina George" was on one of the worst days of his life. He was doing his business - specifically, his second business - on the toilet in the gym, silently cursing himself for disobeying rule #1 of school toilets. This specific toilet was a unisex toilet, making the chances of an embarrassing interaction increase astronomically, and the universe sure did deliver. Around halfway through his anxiety-inducing 'business', as he scrolled through the various pictures of obnoxious duckface selfies on Instagram, he heard someone trying to get into the toilet. Immediately, Christopher froze, trying to say something but failing to get any words out. After a couple of seconds, he heard a voice grumble about some guy in 10th grade - a female voice. He almost dropped his phone. What could he even say? If he said he was having a crap, she would probably be completely grossed out, and he would've committed social suicide for the second time that month. If he said anything else, though, she'd probably wonder why he was taking so long, and think he was jacking off or something! However, after a minute of silence, he heard a much worse sound - the sound of the door unlocking. As in, a teacher came along and locked it from the outside, disabling the unlocking mechanism inside.
Thus began Christopher's five minutes of fame. His panic-stricken, socially suicidal five minutes of fame. He quickly finished up, rushing for the door and seeing if it would still unlock. To his dismay, the door remained unopenable, and he slammed his palms on the polished wood as they started to get clammy. His cries of 'hello?' and 'help me!' were met with silence, but he persisted, his cries getting louder and louder until he could hear muffled giggling from outside the door. No matter how much he asked for help or simply swore at whoever was on the other side (what if it was the girl from earlier?), the giggling persisted just as much as he did. After another minute of torture, a teacher finally came along to rescue the panicking, sweaty Christopher with a quizzical look.
However, his embarrassment was far from over. Christopher walked into school the next day to find that someone had recorded a video of him, and proceeded to share it around the students. "Toilet Boy" tried to find out the source of the video, following the trail of students to land at Jessica Roper. She was a petty bitch by every definition of the word, her sentences somehow always containing thinly veiled insults and sarcastic remarks. Jessica shot a few of these remarks Christopher's way, before the latter walked away to accept his fate - months of mockery and shame.
Fast-forward six months later to possibly the most important night of Christopher's life - Garrett Randall's 10th grade house party. Everyone was invited (to quote Garrett, "even the nerds!"), so Christopher decided it might be time to let off some steam at some high school party. Of course, the "everyone welcome" invitation couldn't stop the half-joking remarks made towards the boy, but he grew used to them through the night. That was, until he heard someone almost scream "TOILET BOY!" from across the room. His eyes scanned the room, landing on Caitlin Donovan. Christopher was in a mild state of panic; if Jessica Roper was Regina George, then Caitlin was her Gretchen, and said Gretchen was headed straight for him. She was visibly (and illegally) drunk, swaying from side to side and giggling like a 6-year-old. After falling onto the couch, she'd explained her predicament in slurred, drawn out sentences - she needed to get home but couldn't get a ride. Christopher begrudgingly agreed, since it wasn't fair to just leave her there, and the two wound up riding home on his poor, struggling bicycle.
The next day, Caitlin approached him again during school, nursing a poorly hidden hangover. He was preparing himself for various toilet jokes and some snide remark, but all he got was an offer to hang out with the girl, as thanks for helping her the night before. Of course, he accepted, tagging along sheepishly as he saw life as a drama-starting bitch unfold before his eyes. He was practically on a high as the day went by without a single insult or dirty look being thrown his way; nobody even giggled as he walked past. Christopher slowly realised that maybe being a bitch wasn't so bad at all, and he started to hang out with Caitlin more and more, much to Jessica's dismay. Gradually, the boy started to become more like the petty bitches he used to be afraid of, joining in with their remarks and even making up his own. The rest of his school life became a breeze, as the once crippling insults became something to laugh at (in-between throwing insults back, of course). He even almost missed it during the summer, but he had Netflix and fencing lessons to fill that void.
However, all good things must come to an end, and high school did just that. Now was Christopher's time to start thinking about his future, and said future was a decent college that people all cross the map flocked to - Grand Ridge Academy. Christopher's good grades at high school worked in his favour, getting him a spot in the Academy and praise from his parents. His first day was one filled with confidence, not a nerve-wracking hell like the ones of the past. It was just time to see how the "be the bitch" strategy would play out somewhere different...
