ALIAS: Skyler Mehta
AGE + DOB: Twenty-Seven | 05.29.1992
GENDER + PRONOUNS: Male | He/Him
AFFILIATION: The Vittoris
OCCUPATION: Professional Photographer // Vittoris Informant
Skyler Mehta was born in Jersey City, New Jersey. Originally from London, his parents struggled to make ends meet, though they never really showed that to their young son. They kept it hidden, under the false guise of credit card and check fraud. They constantly moved around the city, moving into New York for certain periods of time, then back to New Jersey before the check would bounce or before they could get caught. Money laundering wasn’t something that Skyler became aware of until he was a teenager, and that’s when the real trouble began for the Mehta family. Skyler’s father, good at what he was doing, got connected to a gang that was running through the Canadian border, near New York. It was an easy enough job, and an easy enough escape route for when they’d eventually need it.
As a teenager, Skyler was reckless and undisciplined. While he was able to provide a decent sense of charm wherever he went, there was always an undertone of cynicism. His entire life had been fueled by lies and illegal activity, and that wasn’t changing any time soon, it seemed. For now, he went back and forth through the states with his parents, and the only thing that ever remained a constant were the drugs that he’d drowned himself in. Heroin and cocaine seemed the easiest, and they were the ones that were the most accessible to someone like him. His addiction waned every now and then, especially when his life came to an impasse when he turned eighteen. His father had given he and his mother passports and tickets to Montreal, ensuring that they would have a fine life in Canada since the NYPD was closing in on them.
Only Skyler got far enough for the airport. His mother insisted she stayed behind, and it was entirely too dramatic for the young man who wasn’t keen on including himself in his parent’s shady business dealings. Skyler felt more apathy towards his parents than he thought he would even be capable of, and it’s why he got on a plane to Canada and never looked back.
Some would call him selfish, or vain to not even think about what he was leaving behind. Disassociating himself with his parents was a choice he’d made almost instantaneously, and he held no love for the man and woman who had created such a mess of their lives and his future. Naturally, Skyler didn’t want to take any kind of responsibility for the drug addicted life he was going to be living in Montreal. He had nothing to look forward to, with the United States freezing all of his parent’s bank accounts upon their arrests, and the police deciding that their son wasn’t worth the extradition from Canada since he wasn’t involved.
So, Montreal, Canada was where Skyler found himself. He had no family, barely any money that he’d cashed out in the airport, and no where important to be. It wasn’t difficult for him to hear about the shady underground dealings of the Vittoris, the name setting off alarm bells in his head. Instead, he stuck to buying drugs off of them instead, and keeping his head down and out of everyone else’s business before he could ever find himself in a position of trouble. What he didn’t know, however, was that his father’s attempt to get he and his mother out of the country came with a price. And when the Vittoris came to collect, it was Skyler who was the only free Mehta to give them what they wanted: information.
For years now he’s been just trying to get by with whatever he could while finding out information that would be helpful. He has been a bartender, a retail worker, a barista, until he finally settled on professional photography to try and get into the deeper pockets of Montreal. It’d always been his hobby, but Montreal was crawling with people who wanted to be models, and those who needed photographers for political events. It also gave Skyler the chance to photograph whatever he wanted while still getting paid to do it. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t do what he’s ordered, however, and has spiraled back into a horrible relapse to deal with the fact that his life hasn’t been his own for years. Taking care of himself has taken a spot in the back of his mind, and he wonders how much longer he’ll be told what to do and how to do it before he can start living for himself.
WRITTEN BY NOVA. SHE/HER. PST.
