Steven was drowsily stirring his cereal when his father arrived at the front door of the beach house. "Mornin' Stu-ball!" Greg called as he opened the screen door, revealing several buckets of paint and primer hanging from his hands. "Ready to wrap this up?"

"I'm ready to sleep in again!" laughed Steven as he finished his breakfast. He had been waking up at 7 for the past 4 mornings to work with his dad on building a wall around his room. The frame had been built and the drywall hung, so all that was left to do was to paint the new walls and install the hinges for Steven's bedroom door.

"Hey Steven, check this out," said Greg, setting one of the paint cans on the kitchen counter. "I got this really cool bright red paint for your room. It'll make the place a total bachelor pad!" He pried the lid off the can, revealing the glossy, vibrant liquid within. "Hey… it's pink!" cried Greg, squinting at the can of rose-colored paint. "That's not what it looked like on the swatch…" he murmured, tilting the can under the fluorescent light of the kitchen.

"That's alright, dad," said Steven with a smile. "I love it!"

"Well I'm glad, son," Greg replied, turning to pick up the rollers and brushes he had brought for the job. "I know how much you want to finish your room. Wanna get started?"

"Let's go!" grinned Steven.

By noon, father and son had finished painting the final coat and were sitting on Steven's bed waiting for it to dry.

"I forgot to mention how much I dig the 'do, man," said Greg, ruffling Steven's hair affectionately. "How long you been growin' it out for?"

"I dunno, six months or so?" Steven replied as he smoothed his curls. "But I'll never compete with the master!" he giggled.

"That's right!" Greg laughed, stroking his sleek, waist-length tresses. "This sweet mane has been rockin' out with me for thirty years, with no signs of stoppin'!" He curled his fingers into an air guitar and howled a mock solo.

Steven frowned slightly, then turned and looked at his father. "Dad," he asked, "how old were you when you left your home?"

Greg straightened his back and looked down at his son. "I don't know if 'home' would be the right word for it," he said hesitantly, "but I wasn't much older than you when I left my last foster house. I surfed on couches for a little while, working for minimum wage and taking night classes, but I couldn't stick it out for long. I bought a car with a little money I had saved up, and I hit the road." Greg smiled wistfully. "I dreamed of becoming the next big rock star, so I travelled up the coast, sleeping in my car and writing my first album. I met Marty a couple months later, that's when I traded in my old car for the Mr. Universe van." He chuckled, "Man, sleeping in a van is like staying at the Ritz-Carlton when you've been living in a sedan! I remember I was eating cold Beanie-Weenies for months afterward 'cause I blew all my money on the custom paint job, but I was on cloud nine. I finally had something with my name on it, something that was all mine! Anyway, a year or so later I met your mother at one of my concerts, and the rest is history."

He paused and looked down at Steven, who was staring raptly at his father. Greg smiled tenderly at him and put an arm around his shoulder. "Son, I know you must have it pretty hard right now. Your experience is unlike anyone else's in this entire universe. You've got Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl to teach you magic stuff, and your ol' man is here to help you through the human stuff, but a lot of this is gonna be you discovering entirely new stuff. Listen," he continued, turning his body and planting his hands on Steven's shoulders. "I don't think too much about leaving my old home. But not a day goes by that I don't think about finally finding my new home here, with the people I love and trust. So, whatever you decide to do with your life, I… I hope you find that too."

Greg and Steven looked at each other for a long moment, before Greg cleared his throat and rose from the bed. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Wanna grab a pie from Fish Stew Pizza?"

Steven smiled. "That sounds great, Dad."