Dante was your not-exactly-average fourteen-year-old boy. He did exceptionally well in school, and was called a mathematical prodigy by his parents and teachers. He even dipped his toe into computer programming once (during that time, he became very well versed with computers). His dream was to become a Pokémon Master, like pretty much every other kid in his school. Even though it was a school for kids whose parents didn't want them running off on an adventure.
And then it happened.
His parents were brutally killed by a few Team Rocket goons and their Rhydons. Their motives were never found out. As far as he knows, they walked in the back door, probably talked for no more than two minutes, and then attacked his parents. He was watching at a safe distance; he was walking home over a hill. He heard screaming, and probably saw something through the window. As quickly as he could, he ran to the police station, where he told the police, who were then dispatched to his house. The goons had gotten away, and all that was retrieved were his parents' dead bodies.
His dreams were shattered; taken away from him. The life he once knew was gone in a flash.
He was emancipated, due to him proving his knowledge and ability to sustain himself, and then began a life of taking care of himself. It was a rough world. He learned to fight with his fists, as people thought he could be stolen from easily. Eventually he got a job, opened a bank account, and earned enough money to rent a small apartment, as it would cost too much money to keep paying for the mortgage on his parents' home. He was able to keep most of his possessions, including a few old Poké Balls, to remind him of his old life and dreams.
As if his life was about to get better again. Recently, the economic recession had hit. He was fired from his job. Thinking logically, he realized that he would not be able to pay for his apartment any longer than the next month. Jobs were scarce, and he was kicked out of his apartment. He bought a tent and some food, and set off to find a new way of life.
He needed to eat, as all humans do. Without a job, he had no way to make money. A thought occurred to him: what happened to his dream of becoming a Pokémon Master? He quickly silenced himself, as that would be too childish. But then he told himself that battling for money could be a good way to make cash. Yeah, it would have nothing to do with his old dream.
But he didn't have a Pokémon. He saw the Poké Balls left over from his childhood, and figured he could use one of those. He ran into the nearby forest. It was dark out, but there was still a little light left. Eventually he got tired of running around, and sat down. A Gastly came up to him. Surprisingly, it was not hostile. It seemed to sympathize with him, and the pain in his past. It was close enough, so he took out a Dusk Ball and threw it at it. The Gastly didn't resist, and he became his first Pokémon. Today, he still uses that Gastly to battle for money, enough to feed himself. Sometimes he goes into the National Park to catch new Pokémon, who will increase his chances of winning battles.
He might have re-adopted his old dream, but if he did, he would never admit it.