about Cheney the awesome
hmmm.
well.
this is where information about me is supposed to go.
Unfortunately, my biographer has gone missing for the moment
(something about exams to revise for. hahaha.)
So you'll just have to wait until she get back and I can start bugging her again.
I mean, how on earth am i supposed to remember my past, when she won't write down what I can remember, huh?**
Name: Cheney
Age: Melody
Song: "Wrong Side of the Tracks" - The Living End
Likes: going to music festivals, playing guitar, drumming (although it's the guitar that has really stolen his heart), writing songs, playing music at insanely fast speeds, guitar solos, British comedy, science fiction, chocolate and sweet treats, mangoes (and other tropical fruits), dogs, horses (and also animals in general), the underground music scene, rock, punk rock, alternative, jazz.
Dislikes: rap music (he just doesn't get it), classical music, lemons, smoking, drinking to excess, dancing (he *says* that he's not very good at it), people who try to pre-judge and classify him, stereotypes, violence and abuse, being neglected, (most) authority figures, being told what to do
Love interest: His guitar? Seriously, he hasn't even considered the question. Maybe it's a combination of his turbulent past and the apparent memory loss, but he's not too keen to get close to anyone at the moment. Certainly not romantically. But if the right girl came along, well...who knows?
Personal traits: He's a bit of a loner, with a wit and a sharp tongue to match. He dislikes being told what to do, which has naturally led him to gain quite a reputation for being a bit of a rebel and a troublemaker. Because of his past, he tends to drive people off before they get too close. Hiding himself behind the smart-a** remarks, so to speak. But if someone were to dig below the surface, I'm sure that they could find a sincere and sensitive young fellow, who lives and breathes music, and who would dearly love for someone to understand him. Or at the very least, not swear and throw things at him.
He's also got some blank spots in his memory - there are bits and pieces in his past that he cannot remember at all, for some reason.
Hopefully he'll remember soon?
Social group: He's really used to fending for himself and being on his own. So having actual close friends might be somewhat of a first for him ^_^
One thing he really hates is the so-called 'labelling', and he tends to see individuals as themselves, as opposed to being part of a particular category. Given his associations and 'career slant', he'd probably gravitate more towards punks, rockers etc., but I can also see him as having friends outside of that industry. As long as they respect him and love music, and are not too 'nasty', he doesn't really care what sort of background they come from. I think he'd be a loyal friend - once you'd become his friend, he'd be yours for life.
Past Experiences: Somewhere in the past, Cheney must have had a loving home.
He doesn't remember any of it, however.
What he does remember, is a rickety old house in the middle of town. There was someone living there, a man, who never quite seemed to understand him, and seemed to treat him almost like a novelty, or something not quite real.
As soon as he could walk, he had to fend for himself. Music had always been important to him, and he soon discovered the art of busking, and would sing at street corners to earn a little coin - maybe even banging on an upturned can to add percussion if he needed it. One day, he discovered an old broken acoustic guitar, left behind and discarded by some other busker. It was love at first sight, and he took it home, cleaned and fixed it up, and slowly taught himself somehow (he was never quite sure how he knew the correct chords, but he did) to play.
The man never cared for him. He drank frequently and smoked like a chimney, and would rage at young Cheney for no apparent reason, calling him a 'freak', and saying that he never should have stolen up that stupid music player in the first place. Cheney never really confided in him, and kept his interest and love for music (plus his beloved guitar) very quiet. Things he loved soon dissappeared in that house.
It was while busking that he attracted the attention of an older busker, who mentioned that there was an underground rock band who were auditioning for a guitarist and backing singer. Cheney wasn't sure what to expect, but he found his way to the club (which curiously, was not too far away from where he lived). He was nervous, and he'd never used an electric guitar before, but the band members must have seen some promise in him, for they let him borrow one of the other guitarist's instruments, and he played one of his own compositions.
He was hired on the spot.
Cheney was plunged head first into the local underground music scene. It was rough and wild - but he was loving it. The band members were mostly older than him, but they took him under their wing. He grew more confident, and he started getting recognised in the scene - particularly for his fast and complex guitar solos, and for when he and the drummer would swap instruments for a couple of set numbers.
His musical career was taking off.
His home life, however, was a totally different story. The relationship between him and the man had gotten more strained. The man was still abusive, but Cheney was not afraid to answer back - usually with some sharp or witty comment. He found himself sneaking out at night to go to gigs, rehearsals and parties - fearing the day that he would get caught, and fearing what would happen once the man found out what he was doing.
It never came to that. Having enough of the constant verbal battles, the man tossed Cheney out onto the street, with nothing but the clothes on his back.
And here he is - taking all sorts of odd jobs to pay his way, staying one step ahead of the law and the other homeless living on the streets, plus still keeping up with the band as well.
It's not a perfect life, but he gets by.
Until one day, a chance encounter changes his life forever.
I was headed down the wrong side of the road
