GATES, Walker Austin

[Walker Austin Gates]

WALKER AUSTIN GATES

FULL NAME: Walker Austin Gates
NICKNAMES: Walk
AGE: Twenty-five
GENDER: male
SEXUALITY: Straight.
STATUS: Single
GROUP: Citizen
GRADE: N/A
MAJOR: N/A
JOB OCCUPATION: Musician/songwriter

HAIR: Too long to be conservative, messy and ginger coloured. He plays with some product and goes out the door.
EYES: brown
SCARS/BIRTHMARKS: nothing with a good story.
TATTOOS: Nautical half sleeve on his right arm that reaches a candle, an open songbook and bookmark under his arm.
PIERCINGS: None.
PLAY-BY: Caleb Turman!

LIKES: Old School Rock and Roll, denim jackets, cold beer, writing music, comedy shows, playing music, slow dancing, Central Park, festivals, laying out under the stars, baseball caps, reading, candy skulls, worn in Levis, strawberry banana smoothies, Converse, Star Wars, Elvira -Mistress of the Dark.
DISLIKES: Sweet tea, black licorice, cats, rap music, black coffee, most television, sleepless nights, laundry day, falling asleep on the couch, holey sweatpants, getting a migraine, disappointing his friends (when he has to cancel plans), breaking a guitar string, having to find parking in the city
FEARS: Never making it as a musician or even a songwriter, never finding love, returning to Castleberry a failure
SECRETS: Walker is still on the payroll at the record shop where he'd been working when he'd gotten his break in the music business. He'll go there and put in a few hours when he just needs to get away from the fast lane.
PERSONALITY: Walker is a bit of a wild card. No one ever knows what's going to come out of his mouth next. He's a fun-loving guy with a heart of gold who wants nothing more than to provide a good life for his girlfriend, whenever he finally settles down anyway. He's a compassionate man who is determined to make his dreams come true and his willing to put in the hard work to get there. He can be stubborn and oftentimes very difficult when he's got his eyes set on something but he's also go quite the romantic side and loves treating the women in his life well whenever he can. He doesn't have much yet but he's working damn hard to change that be happy. He's much more fortunate than some out there so he's not about to take any of that for granted. He's got the motivation to chase his dreams but the drive isn't always there. Fortunately, he'll never stop trying to get to the top.

MOTHER: Maureen Gates & forty-seven.
FATHER: Reg Gates & forty-eight.
SIBLINGS: James Gates & twenty-three.
OTHERS: N/A.
PETS: Memphis, Husky of two
HOMETOWN: Castleberry, Alabama.
HISTORY: Walker Austin Gates was born to young, idealistic parents who were more hippie than corporate. Like many in the area, Reg worked the family strawberry fields. Maureen wasn't a Castleberry native though she travelled with her family every year for the Strawberry Festival from Appleton, a barely fifteen-minute drive. They met there, at the festival when Maureen was fourteen and Reg was fifteen. They were sweet on each other and when he passed his driving test, he would drive out to pick her up for date nights. Her parents weren't exactly pleased but they could see their daughter happy. Years went by, they remained a close couple and then Reg turned eighteen and told Maureen he wasn't going away to school. He needed to stick around and work the fields. She stuck with him, understood that it wasn't for everyone anyway but a year later, she gave him the opposite news. She had visions of living in Castleberry with him but she wanted to grow the small family business into something just a little bigger, expand a bit.

They remained close through those four years, each of them making the trip to visit the other when it was possible. After she walked across that stage, accepted her diploma, Maureen returned to Castleberry, married Reg and worked out the best way to get the Gates Farm out there a bit more. Fast forward a year, Walker, their wonderful surprise boy was three months old, and the small bakery and cafe Maureen was dreaming of was set to open within days. Back in Appleton, she'd loved sitting in the small cafe to do her homework and when she was old enough, working there, taking care of the people she'd known since she was an infant. She wanted to open the same thing in Castleberry, hopefully giving some other young girl the same chance she'd been given. Two years later, Walker was given a little brother, James and the family business was booming like Maureen had hoped. Reg still worked the fields with the rest of the family but the cafe was thriving. At the end of the night, Maureen had to shoo people out because she needed to close up. It was wonderful.

Walker liked the shop more than the fields but he was so fair-skinned that he always ended up getting sick from being in the sun too long. He'd gotten his mother's colouring with the bright ginger hair and fair skin tone and affection for entertaining and baking and his father's love for music and sense of humour. As the brothers grew up, Walker stuck closer to his mother while his brother went out into the fields whenever he had the chance, loving that he could create something with a little blood, sweat and some dirt. Walker picked up his father's guitar at a young age and tried to play it though he wasn't very good, obviously. Over the years, it was the one thing father and son could talk about. Walker was good, really good and had a way with the written word that he shared with his father, though that was meant to be a family secret. Around his twentieth birthday, Walker decided he wanted to pursue music, hit the road and see where the melody took him. His parents worried but ultimately they understood his need to get out in the world. Their small town wasn't meant for everyone and it was obvious Walker was meant for something else.

He packed up the beat up truck his father gave him for his sixteen birthday, the same truck his daddy gave him at that age and hit the road. Six months saw him all over the south in dive bars and street corners. Tired of the south and wanting to get where the music was, Walker packed up from New Orleans and headed up. He stopped at home for a couple days and kept on going afterwards. He stopped in Chattanooga to busk a bit more, get himself some money saved up so he could put the petrol in the tank and some food in his stomach before he went on again. It was while he was sitting on a street corner with his guitar in hand, belting out an old Merle Haggard number that he met Hannah. During a break, he went up to her, engaged her in conversation, got a sad little story from her and told her he'd be around for a bit if she ever wanted to find him again.

Walker stuck around longer than he'd planned simply because he liked talking to Hannah and wanted to get to know her more. Though he didn't like it, he did understand where she was coming from when she asked they keep their relationship a secret. She was the same age as he was but her parents being the good, God-fearing Christian folk, Walker understood that he wasn't what any parent like that would want for their little girl. Walker hadn't made many friends, just Frieda and the group at the diner where he ate most nights, so it wasn't like he was going to tell anyone. However, Chattanooga wasn't nearly as big as it seemed and they were soon caught up in the dramas of small-town life. He hadn't meant to stay, but he'd found himself sharing a two bedroom apartment with the Gus, the cook from the diner because "he couldn't continue to live in his truck" and he helped out at the diner a couple times a week, saving money for that next trip up the coast. New York was the dream and he was working towards it. Busking wasn't doing too much and he wanted to be around to see Hannah. He was understandably nervous when she said her parents wanted to meet him. He wasn't what most good, southern parents wanted for their baby girls. He liked alternative music, "had more tattoos than sense" and didn't really have a real job. Still, he ran a comb through his hair, wore a plain white t-shirt under his least holey checked shirt, his good Levis and the work boots he cherished. Despite his attempts, he knew he still looked like he grew up on the wrong side of the tracks and Hannah's parents hated him from the second the door opened, that much was obvious to him.

They were young, idealistic and thought they were in love; at least Walker was. Hannah suggested they hit the road one night and though Walker had his reservations about it, agreed because he was itching to get out there again. He picked her up the next morning and hit the road, heading east, towards the coast. He had a plan in mind, see some places before he hit New York. The city was his destination but he wanted to have an adventure before he got there, give himself something to write about. As it turned out, he got so much more than he bargained for. Two hours outside of Richmond, Virginia, Hannah confessed she wasn't sure what she felt was love and that she really only wanted a ride out of town. She explained that she'd been meaning to stay behind in Charlotte, North Carolina but she'd been having so much fun that she just jumped back up on the seat of his truck again. Heartbroken, Walker turned his back on her, told her to lose his number because he wouldn't answer it anyway and told her she was the worst kind of person. She didn't seem all that bothered by any of it and didn't wave when he drove off. He only made it a couple miles down the road before he pulled over again and checked all his bags for his money and personal belongings. She'd been too heartless and he hadn't been raised to be a fool, just Southern. Relieved to see his money and personal items were still where he'd left them, Walker hit the road once more and didn't look back.

He wrote a ton of music on the way up, stopping here and there to sleep and eat, busk a bit because it amused him to do so. He had saved a ton from his time at the diner. Gus hadn't expected him to pay rent, which was nice and Frieda offered him free meals because he helped out. So all his money went into the bank. He had a good amount in there, leading Walker to believe someone was adding to it, probably his parents so he wouldn't end up on the streets somewhere. It took some time to get to New York but it was the adventure Walker had wanted. He did finally get there though. He hit every open mic night he could find, hit the streets, the park and the subway whenever he could manage it to get his music out there, get the practice in. He also got a job at a record shop, working enough hours to keep the roof of a one-bedroom, fourth floor walk-up over his head and food in his stomach. Walker's idea was that he could catch the eye of a producer in the city and find himself a voice that spoke to the people. His hard work paid off as one night after a properly booked show at Font, he was approached about a deal, something they could talk about. Walker went into the meeting without any thought that it would actually happen but a ton of damn good questions. They were appreciated and at the end of that very week, Walker had signed a temporary contract with the record label. They'd cover the costs because they thought he was worth it and they would take the cost out of his earnings over time. Again, he wasn't stupid, knew enough maths to work it out himself and figured it was a deal that was too good to be true. But it was. He signed on the dotted line, not ever thinking he would get anywhere near the level of fame they projected but established enough to at least pay off the cost of creating an EP would be at least.

Within six months, he was a Top one hundred artist and loving it all. Not one to let it all get to his head, Walker practically begged for the hours at the record label so he could have somewhere he could breathe and not get recognised. Those hours were few and far between since he was opening for world tours and famous names and enjoying the whole adventure of it all. After three years, he was finally so well known that he was headlining big shows and falling into a hotel bed almost every night after a show, revved and pleased that it was his life. It was crazy and probably insane but it was exactly what he'd been fighting for when he'd left Castleberry at twenty.

YOUR ALIAS: Cali
RULE WORDS: I'll take these.
WHERE YOU FOUND US: A page in some book in some shop in some small town in some country far from here.
SAMPLE:

I most certainly will not give you a sample of my skill! Guess!

 

[Cali]