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About Valencia

I’m picturin’ it – me, drivin’ round, lookin’ for some action. Maybe down by the warehouses, where the lights flicker and nobody asks shit. Dr. Evil vibes – pinky up, “One million dollars.” – like I’m buyin’ the whole damn block. But real talk, it ain’t that fancy. Prolly just some chick named Tammy, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a streetlight. “What’s your story, hon?” I’d ask, all smooth, but inside I’m like, “This is nuts, what am I doin’?”

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I was mad once, real mad, when the city council nearly shut my alley near Calle del Eco. I felt like a soldier fighting for my community’s soul. But as The Pianist echoed in my head—those lines, “I had to survive...”—I fought back with passion. Now, every stress knot I unknot feels like my victory!

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