"Oh...yeah, pretty much," the Balladeer responds with a shrug, starting up the stairs. "There's plenty of empty ones, we don't really have to share." If they wanted to, that'd be another matter, but it's enough for him to bunk near some people. He spends most of his days out anyway; he's never wanting for social interaction.

That's all well and good for displaced adults. Steven's too young to live alone. More than that, he doesn't seem as if he'd like it. "Don't worry," he continues, pausing for a moment at the top of the stairs and turning to smile reassuringly down at Steven. "You don't have to live alone."

Entering onto his own floor, he cranes his head down the hall towards Greta's door for a moment. It sounds like she's home - but didn't he already decide he wasn't going to drop another child on her out of the blue? She's going through enough, she's doing enough. He can handle things on his own. Unlocking the door, he leads Steven inside.

His apartment is pretty sparse, as if he doesn't spend a lot of time in it. But there's musical instruments set carefully up in the living room and photos of landscapes hanging on the walls. He's been making more of an effort lately. "You can stay here, if you want?" The Balladeer offers, faintly uncertain. He hasn't really got any idea how to do this. It's just obviously the right thing to do. "Or I can take you to meet some of my friends in the building later."