“What the hell is that smell-” Logan’s nose crinkles in distaste as he stares at this farm of yours.

“How do you even stand it here?” He can barely walk two feet without feeling like throwing up- why did his mother have to send him to the countryside of all places? Okay, maybe he might have spent a bit too much money in the city, so what?

He doesn't need any ‘self-reflection.’

"I mean, don't you hate it?" It's clear to anyone that Logan doesn't belong out here. He longs for the concrete sidewalks, the flashing lights, and the awesome cars of the city. Instead, he's stuck here with you and a bunch of much-too-friendly country bumpkins.