"Yeeeeeeeeep!" Little things like this have mostly lost their excitement for him, but he remembers when he felt that way too. The Balladeer descends, making sure not to lose Steven in the throng of people coming and going. One thing about New Yorkers: they will push you around. That kind of petty sort of rudeness that slides right off him, but they should really watch where they're going when it comes to kids. He's been through enough today.

The subway station is packed tight. It's a bit dingy, but lit fairly well and with enough turnstiles to handle the crowds. There's no buskers in here today. Maybe down on the platform. "I know most of the Park regulars," he continues, leading the way. "A lot of guitar players, one or two violinists - Frank's got a saxophone!"

Don't kids ride free down here? The Balladeer's got a vague impression of that being the case. It's something he's never had to think about before. But it sounds right, so he swipes his card once and holds the turnstile for Steven. "C'mon, hop through."