"I don't think there's a way of ranking the screwiness of anyone's childhood, let's be real here," Natalie interjects quietly as he speaks, chuckling.

"Seattle has a big metal tower too. We just call it a needle." She's surprised at how easily he jumps from topic to topic and actually likes it, following him from subject to subject. "I haven't touched a piano since I was last in Seattle, though, so, uh. I don't know. There's probably one in the Apollo cabin." Piano playing reminds her of the night she and her parents fled her recital when the Furies tried to attack them. It wasn't the best moment, no.

"What's this about Paris therapy? I don't think New Yorkers need that. They live there for a week and suddenly they're jaded and stuff. I think that's your initiation into that city."