Remington Dissick

## Backstory

The first time he saw a motorbike was when he was roughly six years old. His father was in the small box room located next to the garage while his mother was working on a van that had been dropped off for repairs. It was the first time he and his brother had ever been to his parents’ work and he was excited. His parents both worked at an ‘automotive repair shop’ as they liked to call it. As he grew older he learned to realise it was basically a cover up for a Motorcycle gang to bring in illegal things. But he didn't know that when he was six, obviously. At that age he would believe anything his parents told him. As he was sitting on a bench outside the garage, the gates of the compound opened, making a loud creaking sound that was followed by an even louder revving. When he looked up he was in a state of awe. Six of the nicest Harley Davidson drove in, all being ridden by scary looking men. A few got off and split up. One going to talk to his mother while another two went to talk to his father. The other three stayed on their bikes, looking around the place and making other workers feel uncomfortable. They even glanced at him. They didn't scare him though. They actually smiled at him. From that point on he wanted to be a mechanic like his mother. He wanted to know what made those bikes tick. They fascinated him. He simply had to know everything about them. So for the next 13 years he went to that ‘automotive repair,’ learning new things every day. Towards the end, he started regretting it. Sure, he could probably take your car apart and put it together again just as good, but how would that help him? He had gotten mixed up with that biker gang and look what it got him. An ugly scar on his face and a limp in his right foot. What good was that? Maybe he should have been a doctor or something. Then he might actually be more useful. But hey, he couldn't change now. He was too invested. They would rather slit his throat than let him do something with his life. He knew too much and plus; he ran this place now. Since his brother was off in another city doing god knows what, his parents left the place to him in their will. He still remembers the day they died. Well… he says died lightly. They just disappeared one day. After a while people just stopped looking. He always had a suspicion that the bikers had killed them somehow. Maybe they disagreed with them. Maybe they were sick of being in their pocket. Or maybe those bikers just decided that his parents were too old. Whatever the reason, Remi was sure that those guys had killed them. But it’s not like he could say anything about it. They gave him half a Chelsea smile because they thought he had been bragging about his protection against the police because of them (he hadn't). So he ignored them and continued his work. When he reached twenty-one he got a phone call from the Texas Police Department. His brother was dead. There was a drunk driver on the road. It was dark and his brother was driving home with his wife and two daughters. Only the kids made it out. Turns out he had become a wealthy lawyer. Left most of his money to his kids. He did leave some to Remi, though. Enough to get him the hell outta dodge. When he attended the funeral, and saw those two little girls. His nieces. He knew he just had to go. He stole a glance at the two bikers who had accompanied him and he just knew that Wes wouldn't want him to stay. Wes knew he wasn’t meant for that life. That’s why he left. That’s why he told Remi to leave. He left that funeral before those two girls saw what a failure their uncle was and when he got home that night, he packed up all of the most important things he would need and hid the duffel bag in his basement. Once that cheque came in he was gone. He had enough money that he didn’t even need to take the cash from the repair shop. Those bikers could keep it. They would need it to pay the next lousy guy to work for them. He drove his pick-up all the way to Kansas -The place he was born- without stopping, fearing that the bikers might find him. His family had moved away from there when he was 1 to start their shop. With the money from Wes, he was able to buy the apartment they used to live in and then he started furnishing. He wasn’t going to live in something that looked like a crack den, after all. After about a month he had his house the way he wanted, and from there he started getting to work on his life. At first he wanted to change his name. After all it might make it less easy for those bikers to hunt him down if they ever tried, but he just couldn't find it in him. His name was the only thing he had left from his family. His dad was a gun nut so it was only right that he would name his sons Remington and Wesson. Remi found it funny at times, to be honest. Mostly because who would name their kids after weapons? Most of his life he hated it, though. But now he practically cherished it. Remi spent most of his time building up his reputation. His hard one finally paid off when he became the go-to-guy for auto repairs. The town he was in was also quite small so he ended up knowing pretty much everyone. It was nice walking down the street and being able to wave and smile at people and have them wave back. Much different from when people would look away from him in case he called on one of the big bag bikers to beat down on them. Not that he ever would. He didn't rely on those guys to fight his battles. Not that that stopped them. They loved a good fight. He had many friends in this town and things were definitely looking up. Every Saturday and he would go to Roberts house to play video games with him and his son, then on Fridays he would be at Sarah’s, helping her fix up a car she had bought at a salvage yard. It was going to be so amazing when it was done. Then on Wednesdays he was babysitting for Dylan and Jake, his best friends. All his other days were spent doing whatever he wanted. Unless of course he had to take a car to his garage to fix. But he only did that if it was really bad. If it wasn’t he would just spend a few hours at the owner’s house and repair it there. Life was great for him… then it wasn’t. He woke up to the sound of gun fire and screaming. When he looked out his window he saw absolute chaos. Things only went downhill from there for Remi. He doesn't like to talk about that though. He doesn't really like sharing at all. The past needs to stay in the past.