Steven was never shy around an audience. Even when he had first been learning to play, he had reveled in the attention of others -- especially those who seemed only full of compliments.
"Well," Steven answered once his audience had finished up his speech, "It's never too late to start." His fingers moved down the strings, strumming a few simple chords. The music remained just below his speech, almost harmonized to his response. "Come on in."
Steven's apartment had not improved much in the few days he had been "settled in." Boxes were everywhere, some opened but many more simply piled against the walls. The furniture had been placed neatly where it belonged, including a large piano and a few other guitars. It was obvious Steven was a newcomer to Pax -- and a rather lazy one at that.
"I was just giving her a tune up," he explained, patting the side of the guitar with a gentle, loving hand. "Name's Steven Shiancoe." This was accompanied by a sound on the guitar that could only be described as fanfare.