Joel is a smoker, and a tough, little short guy from some place he calls New Wells. His bright green eyes, pale red hair, and dark, pocked skin are an unusual combo for your home world, but it doesn't seem to draw a second glance here.
"Yah, I gotta couch. And my girlfriend just went back to visit her parents for the season."
You talk to him on teh stroll home, and he hints that if you're a good house guest he can keep you up for two weeks, and if you want longer, then you can split the rent with him. He tears down a poster on a telephone pole calling for 'cheap housing law'.
"New Wells tried that. Couldn't get a house for love or money unless you were related to a regulator or a mistress of a delegate. My da had to live forty miles from his office. Here they license most everything, but once you got your license, you're presumed to know what you're doing."
The walkup is cheap, dingy, and small with a bedroom for Joel, a living room/kitchennette with a swayseated couch and TV, and a shower/toilet room. Its about four hundred square feet.
"No place like home, sweet dump. But once I get my studies done, and take my test in hydraulic engineering, I'll get a good job at a dam or something."