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License earned his name fair and square. Since 7 he's had the wheel in his hands, and he's been driving since at least 13. He honestly can't remember how the name first came about, but he knows it has something to do with Squeeze telling License he "doesn't even need a license". After that it snowballed, and eventually he started introducing himself as such.
Most people assume he's crazy, and he agrees. Truthfully, he probably is crazy. License knows it's selfish, he knows hes risking others, but the rush, the rush makes it all worth it.
This is his only vice. No drugs, he's seen too many friends throw their life away, and there are already plenty of users in NYC. No need to add to it. He really doesn't drink, either. Maybe it's because he's always itching to run, he thinks.
Thats his thing, running. In a car, on foot, metaphorically, you name it. If theres one thing License it good at, its avoidance. Since childhood hes been the avoidant type, putting off assignments and lectures from his mother as long as possible.
The thing is, the rush of getting in trouble or almost getting in trouble was like a drug. Once he started he couldn't stop. It went from staying out late, to stealing from the gas station, to street racing. License would watch his older friends strike a car and cruise with them till just minutes before his curfew. He'd get back just a couple minutes past 11, a cheeky smile on his face. It read "I won."
It seemed like a natural progression, mixing his love for cars with his nasty habit. Not only that, but hed grown up around strikers and traffic swimmers. Learning to cut up came easy to him, and License had always been a good driver. Squeeze and some of their other friends taught him, gave him tips. Told him to trust himself without being cocky. They taught him to find his limit and stay below it.
He was good at this. He is good at this. But he can't walk around actually believing that, of course not. He has to trust himself, yes, but he cannot be confident. Just able.