Since the dawn of his days, RocketMan was never included. Though his remarkable notables such as his sparkling smile, luscious hair, charming personality were everything another behalf needs in the normal world, in this one, it just... it just wasn't enough. For years and years, as a young boy, he would push aside his hurt from exclusion to find where he must belong. Failure after failure, he just seemed to have lost all hope. All hope that "Mr. Good Guy" has finally died. The generation now looks for a stronger back bone.

As time passes by, RocketMan gets less and less interested in pleasing people and unleashing what was once him within. The few who wish to chance a friendship with the hopeless man, come out empty handed. Not a conversation, a remark... Barely even a look. A blank empty look. RocketMan did not have a job. No. He would struggle for hours through out a night to find a small, broken down, and vacant flat to gather just a couple hours asleep to keep going. To keep going for nothing.

RocketMan had no ambition for anything. Not a family. Not a car. Not a damn thing. As his seeming useless life continued, with the generation becoming more and more what was socially acceptable, this would of course heighten the rate of crime. Noting life around him, seeing the criminals live a better life than the earners, RocketMan decided maybe it was time to hurt society and live large, disregarding his once dream to better the communities within him.

Crime after crime, RocketMan was getting smarter. More intelligent to do the bigger jobs such as bank heists to up his earnings. RocketMan stumbled upon new faces. New faces who accepted him in this new route he had chosen to follow. It was from this day forward that his new pal, NotoriousBIG, would accept him into a family he holds with upkept promises of a much better life than he could have hoped for in that former dream society in which he was dreaming about. RocketMan's home was with the Liberty Street Elites.