Background

Background: ((Trigger warning: Drug usage)) Mateo was born the middle child in the Gaillardo family. Through increasing activity of rebel groups, kidnappings, robbings and fights between the government and rebels with no care for collateral in the 60s and 70s through the effects of the ever increasing tension of the cold war led the father Hector and his mother Sonia to their decision to immigrate from Mexico into America in 1974 for the safety of their every growing family and themselves. Hector always insisted on teaching his kids spanish. He didn't want a part that was held up by generations of his family suddenly vanish. Mateo would be raised outside of West Point on the family ranch, living a fairly normal life all things considered. Yet, from an early age he can recall being alone. His brother Justin, the prodigy child, always garnishing his parents attention. His loneliness would transition into his school years as he often found it difficult to connect with the other children. Most of the kids lived in West Point, he was one of the few "farm kids" which always made him feel out of line. Justin was no help, and his sister Marisol was only a toddler at the time. Fortunately for Mateo as he went into the sixth grade he would meet the person that truly listened, truly cared. His name was Sam and the two grew to become close friends sharing many of the same passions and interests from exploring the outdoors, to biking down the steep hills north of West Point. He found in Sam a brother that Justin wasn't and for those brief years of middle school everything seemed to fall into place. That was until Sam, being far more social then Mateo, met other friends, friends that had other hobbies...hobbies that kept Mateo at a distance. Drugs were never something his family accepted, even smoking a joint he knew would be frowned upon, and what Sam had gotten himself into was far worse then a joint. Yet, even with his criticisms Sam kept going, kept engaging with his new friends. Not that he treated Mateo any worse, just, he had more on his plate, and slowly the lonliness crept back in. The distance, the omnipresent shadow in the boys mind, the thoughts followed, would it really be that bad. He was in his sophomore year of high school when he would finally succumb to the feelings. Sam had invited him for the countless time to join him and his friends in their morning sesh before school. This time Mateo would partake. He rode his bike up to the group, feelings of anxiety, nervousness, and distance coursing through his veins. One of the kids, Mathew had gotten ahold of some opiates, his mom's morphine perscription. With a seemingly effortless efficiency Sam retrieved a belt while Mathew poured some of the liquid onto a spoon. The cotton went in next and the needle absorbed the sweet sugar into the syringe. "Virgins first" they said, Mateo was pushed forward, without even time to resist before the needle entered his vein. The feeling was incredible, ecstasy and bliss as he slumped against the wall travelling to a palm sandy beach on that cold concrete stump. It only lasted a few moments but Mateo was changed, the trajectory of his life, his goals, he needed more, to feel and to keep feeling this magnificent sensation. His father Hector, was not stupid. He saw the changes in Mateo's behavior. He saw the look in his eyes and having experience in law enforcement himself he knew enough to search his things. Hector would find some pills in Mateo's bag and he would confront him. Mateo said that someone must’ve put it in his backpack but Hector knew that that was a lie. It was the final straw, the old man tolerated his laziness but would not tolerate drugs and when his mom passed away in a car accident a few months later, Hector kicked him out. Mateo finished school sleeping on Sam's couch with the absolute minimum GPA. He wouldn't get a good job and ended up at Spiffos a few months after graduation. This didn’t last long though as his degraded image was bad for the company and they laid him off after a few months for personal hygiene issues. With the 950 dollars he had saved up over his 3 months at Spiffo he would go and buy himself a car, a real shit box. It wasnt the best car, but it would have to do. He couldn't stay in West Point anymore. Mateo would go west. Working as a bartender in Utah, a bouncer in Idaho. Battling his addiction the whole time, getting in an occasional fix but often fending off the cravings with a joint or two. As Mateo heard the events taking place all across America over the radio, he floors the gas pedal of his old shitbox. Trying to get back home as fast as possible. But that "back home" never came. He stands in the doorway to an empty house. Mateo walks away. Holding back tears as he grew hopeless of ever seeing them again. He feared what the future held for him. But Mateo needed to keep moving. Two grueling years pass. He was lucky enough to find a farm where an old couple lived. They helped him get back on his feet and finally free himself from his addiction. He said goodbye long ago. How long? He doesn't know. He never bothered with keeping track of time. He wanders once more. Tagging along caravans one of them being "The Wandering Caravan". He camped with them for about a year in South Dakota before parting ways as they moved up into Montana. Mateo would start to travel east. Passing through Indiana into Ohio where he barely avoided death from an attempted robbery. After the encounter, Mateo knew that travelling alone wasn't such a good idea anymore. It's the only thing he knew but with the lawlessness of the new world it probably meant certain death. And as he met "The Wandering Caravan" up in New York again. He decided it'd be best to join them on their journeys. Fighting alonside them in 2008 and loosing most of their belongings. He now goes into Knox County with his caravan to find a place to settle down for some time and rest.