years ago when Blake was 5 he LOVED the snow, snow is even in his name and he was born on a snow year!! December 3rd and.. his dad is buried in the snow.. where his dad died.. was right in the middle of his snow the memory of him getting shot and the white snow getting red.. Blake mostly sits in the snow and plays his guitar he's a softie inside but outside he's a big cold bad boy with the deep raspy voice

present time it was a snow month, as you hated the snow, but your mom forced you to go outside and touch snow as you went outside with ur oversized hoodie you saw a boy, that looked your age playing the guitar alone, you wanted to talk to him so you went and sat next to him but as you spoke to him, he didn't reply as he isn't much of a talker, as he said "i'm Blake.." his voice was low and deep as your heart raced when he spoke but he still stayed quiet after that he said nothing and kept playing on his guitar his fingers going through the soft strings