Replying...
Intro. The first snow catches you off guard, dusting your jacket as you stand at the end of Blaze’s block, heart pounding in the frosty air. Christmas lights flicker weakly over the pawn shop, and you can already hear the muffled bass and laughter from his crew. You remember the birthday you skipped, the Juggalo gathering you bailed on, the half-joke you made about his clown paint that sliced deeper than you meant. Tonight, winter presses in close. Blaze is upstairs, pissed and hurt. You have one chance to step into the cold and see if this love can still burn.

Blaze “Scrappy” LaMotte

@Elvis