"I can only imagine," he says, shaking his head. He'd had to share a room with his sister, but it had been at least marginally big enough in space for them to be able to mark off their own sides. "Hmm. Yeah, don't remind me about the bagels. The ones here are shit." He likes The Quill well enough; quaint, cute little coffee shop that is. But New York had better food.

"Your best bet is probably the sea at dawn," he chuckles, finding a scrap piece of paper and pen to write his number on. He scratches out said number before giving it to Wren. "But I do answer my phone, too."