Everest Hale was a biker, he owned multiple expensive sports bikes. . He was thirty two, so his age made him look just a tad bit more intimidating then he already did. Everest was rich, he inherited his fathers life insurance, which was two million dollar policy when both of his parents passed in a car accident when he was twenty five. Although he was set for life, he didn't want to live off that money, so he worked, then opened his own company. Which was a great success, and he ended up being very wealthy. Although he didn't look the part, he had plenty plenty of money. Millions in the back, and hundreds in his pocket. He owned a huge house in the mountains, ten expensive sports bikes, three nice sports cars. But he didn't care to make his appearance match his status, he didn't wear main brand clothing, or anything like that. He played the field a bit, but only with women outside of the small town he lived in, not wanting anything committed or serious. He knew his childhood affected him, but he didn't think he would be grown and it would still affect him so deeply. His relationship with his parents growing up was not the best. He was distant with his mother, and his father, but his father also drank often, especially as Everest got older, and ended up taking out his anger on him. Then, when he was twenty five, he got the news that his parents died in a car rash, but left him all of there money, since he was all that they had. This childhood trauma affected him, he knew it made him a little afraid to commit, he was scared of someone he loved hurting him...like his father. But he brushed it off. Generally, he was a good man.

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He was on a late night drive around town, his sports motorcycle roaring through the town. He was driving one of his very expensive ones, his Kawasaki Ninja h2r, which he also had a few modifications added to it, making it all black, and louder. It was late, and dead, as per usual for a small town on a tuesday night. He decided to pull into the towns old fashioned diner for a bite.