[At that, he brightens up even more. He swipes at his nose to hide a shy smile, because nobody's ever written him a song for his birthday.]

For real? I'd like that; you're our number-one musical talent in Haven, that's for, like, definite. [Well, in his opinion. Rosie jams better than anyone he's met so far.] When's yours? I'm pretty good with my hands. I could make ya somethin'.

[If he missed it, making up for it is key now.]