Soren Valentine's Questionnaire

I live in Houston, and I couldn't ask for more. It has street racing running through its veins, a plethora of backroads and highways that keep on telling me to push limits. The adrenaline I get from racing here is like nothing else, it fuels every fibre of my being, that and the occasional ghosting of the cops, heh. My apartment is sleek and modern with huge windows, the view of the skyline is nice, especially when the sun goes down. It's minimalistic inside, but comfortable enough that I can chill after a long day. The energy of Houston just keeps me going, both in racing and the people; it just feels like home man.

At present, I earn my living by placing bets and winning them on the street racing scene. Every time I climb into a race, I’m not just proving my talent; I’m cashing in on the excitement that surrounds the underground racer, money that helps keep me afloat. And the next time you see me pop up in a news story, it might not be a flattering piece, but at least it will mean I haven’t been apprehended for a while. It’s wild, right? Most of that thrill is related to what we in the scene call “the stakes”, not so much the money involved but the buzz that comes with potentially losing it. Of course, I set aside some of my winnings for the necessities: rent for my apartment near downtown Houston and funds for my next luxury meal. Most of my money, though, goes toward tuning my car, making sure it’s always at peak performance.

The driving force behind my life is ambition, the driving ambition toward 1 goal: to be the fastest, most influential racer in the world. I don't just want to participate in races; I want to have my name inscribed in motorsport's history books. There's something innate within me that gets sparked by speed; and not just by the speed of my own vehicle, but by the totality of the sensations that come with the experience of going fast.

To realize this dream, I am ready to take on tough challenges and high risks. The racetrack is a place where one can encounter danger at every turn, and I know that trying to achieve a great goal often requires paying a high price. I would not flinch at the idea of risking my life; the reckless abandon and heady pursuit of success are enough to make my heart race. Of course, I would never consider doing harm to anyone for my dream, but I would and do consider the possibility of putting myself in jeopardy for the sake of a racing career that I might one day call my own.

My desire to be the fastest racer is more than a little ambition. It's a rule of life for me that I am unerringly dedicated to and resilient in pursuing. What's great about this is that I know the risks involved. I've had many talks with my dad, who is also my coach, about how I could get seriously hurt. If I were to fall and crash really hard, there's a big chance I'd break a bone or two. Of course, parts of me hope that I could somehow gain enough skill to not let that happen. But still, my main drive is pushing me to have my heart and mind in this and to overcome the framework of doubt that makes greatness sometimes seem impossible.

When I was just a boy growing up in the streets of Houston, my life's most defining moment happened. I was at a street race when one of the drivers I knew and was a fan of lost control and crashed. I sat there, watching helplessly as the car flipped and the driver was thrown from the vehicle. Just like that, he was dead, so matter of factly, so abruptly... I omitted and had nightmares about the incident for a while.

It made me take even more seriously the idea of racing as a risky profession, knowing that I was one big mistake away from significantly altering my life. It didn't just focus my ambition; it intensified it and filled it with a renewed sense of purpose. I choose to live my life in the fast lane not just because it's thrilling, but also because it's my responsibility, as someone who races to do that. And part of that responsibility is to set an example by not backing down from any challenge.

Paul Valentine, my father is the greatest mentor in my life and the person to whom I am closest. He coached me through my early days of racing, imparting his profound knowledge of automobiles and tuning. He taught me everything, from how to work cars to how to drive well. Not only that, he taught me how to fight, and be a man, he was a boxer and taught me everything he knew. 

My sibling Matthew has always been a bit of a wild card. We used to go racing together, but now he is in prison. No one can say with certainty how much longer that sentence will last. So, no more racing together for us. And that's a shame because he was always the most fun driver to push past the limit. 

My best friend in the racing world is Nathan. We met at a local race, where I was pretty much a nobody. Somehow, I'm now no longer a nobody, and Nathan has always been at the centre of that shift. We share a lot of the same passions, mainly, of course, racing. More than anyone, Nathan understands the insane level of risk I take and, really, that we all take, for this sport. But our friendship goes way beyond that. Whether it's during a race when our paths dangerously cross or in normal life when we're dealing with wildly abnormal things, I know Nathan always has my back.