Steve smiles into the dark. "One of my many talents."

But as for the actual, serious matter at hand: "Pal, nobody knows what they're doing. You're doing fine, as far as I can tell." But then he stops, thinks about how that sounds. How it might be belittling. "If it's been hard work for you," he adds, "then it's paid off. Really."

Winter may not know what he's doing, but he's still doing it pretty well. "There's a difference between being popular and being a monster. A big one. Just - keep that in mind, too." Because he doesn't want Winter to feel like he has to be liked, like he has to play into what people want him to be, just to avoid being terrible. There's a lot of space in between those two extremes, and Steve isn't sure that anyone's told him that. So it's his job, he figures, to explain things like that. Just in case.

God, he feels so lost. This is that part he wanted to be there for... and now he is, and he has no idea what he's doing either. How ironic.

He senses movement, comes to a stop - but no. It looks like just a stray... something? Maybe a raccoon. Massachusetts has raccoons, right?