"Listen to me!" The Balladeer grasps at the man's hand, trying to break his grip. There's not much in the way of music to draw on; this isn't a real person. The best way through these dreams is to play along. "She's my friend, just - "

And then he's gone entirely, and the Balladeer is alone in the hall once more.

He glances down at his new costume. It looks like he's been promoted - his scrubs are replaced by normal clothes, below a white coat. There's even a stethoscope around his neck and a clipboard in his hand. The sound of his name interrupts his investigations, and he hurries towards it, shutting the door behind him as he enters Greta's room.

Thank god, they're alone for once. These dream characters are testing his patience. "I'm still here. Are you okay?" She looks better, at least.