Gansey was just passing by, but something about the sight of someone drawing makes him pause and circle back. He doesn't recognize the faces, but Steve's skill is quite obvious.

The young man who approaches Steve is tall and broad-shouldered, a swimmer's build under a sky-blue hoodie, dark washed jeans and a pair of battered docksiders. The shoes do not even slightly compliment the look, but they do look comfortably worn in. His presence is quiet, and he's looking at Steve's journal from a respectful distance.

"You're very good," he comments quietly. "Are you teaching art, or something else?"