"A few weeks, verging on a month now. And, yeah. Well, sort of." Justin's eyes moved back towards the CD's, pretending to look over the album titles when really he was simply avoiding her intense eyes. He was never really good at lying, but he had to learn a little, right? "Not my first choice in schools. That was actually Penn State-- they have a killer baseball program and are generous with sports scholarships." But not everything always panned out. Not when news breaks about a mental breakdown and its possible the attack he suffered injured his throwing arm; let alone, news travelled fast when they thought you were crazy and suffering from post-traumatic stress. No one wanted to waste money on a headcase. He had even had a spot for try outs in the Cape down at Chatum; notorious for scouting for the minor and major leagues... Justin was quickly learning that life never worked out how you thought it would. It wasn't that he thought he was amazing at the game, but a scholarship to a decent school that also had a great arts program.... too good to be true, huh?
"But," There was no use wondering what could have been when it would never happen. Sure, he could dream for normalcy, but he was stuck with this. A monster living under his skin, part of him yet more misunderstood and complicated than he had ever dreamed any part of him could be. "New York was a better fit." Justin's gaze darted back up towards her face for a moment, as if he were worried she was still even listening or not. He wasn't comfortable talking about himself all that much, especially where there were some holes in his story. "Has more of the indie vibe I aspire to."
After a short moment of silence he turned to Kira, gesturing with his hand towards herself, "And, and you? I mean, aspiring Broadway star-- clearly the place to be. But how long in the city? Certainly longer than I have as you seem to have the New Yorker thing down. I've seen the crowd weaving abilities, and, I have to say, I'm thoroughly impressed."