"It's a different life," Clark admitted. "Slower. Simpler." He smiled fondly, though the smile faded a bit. "Sometimes a bit suffocating, but I suppose most teenagers feel that way." He chuckled. "Plus, it's a little different when it's also a farm town." Duty. Expectation. Saddled with the feeling of not belonging and sitting on a secret that would, no doubt, destroy his life if he was exposed. On his world, despite how much he did his best to help, there were still those who viewed him as a threat. He understood the need for caution. It didn't exactly make him feel better. But that was life, wasn't it? People feared what they did not understand.
He shook off the haze of memories and gave Steve a considerate nod. "A simple life is a great escape for a vacation, I have to admit," he began, "but there's something to life in a big city. The hustle and bustle, the vibrancy, the loud noise and music." He wore a goofy grin. Sometimes, when he woke up in the morning, he still couldn't believe that he was living the dream. Sure, it might've taken him a while to land on becoming a journalist, but moving to Metropolis and making something of himself? That had always his been his dream. When he was six, it was to be a player for the Metropolis Sharks. (That dream quickly dissipated when they realized he could lift a tractor over his head.) When he as 14, MetU was the plan. But his life had ended up taking a bit of a turn. And it took him a little longer than he would've liked to get to the big city.
Steve, then, mentioned coffee. Clark closed his eyes in morning. "I think that might be what I miss the most." Coffee, you see, was a journalist's lifeblood.