John? Suddenly, the little bits of this guy that seem familiar are all rushing out at him. He looks back over his shoulder, brows furrowing.

He's smart enough to know he shouldn't ask if his last name happens to be Constantine when the guy's cagey enough, but... he can't help but wonder it.

"... Uh, no. And I wasn't really gonna ask you if you were old enough anyway." He probably isn't where Billy's from... even Billy's still a year and some months away, but here? It doesn't seem to matter much.

"So, John, before you got pulled in here... what were you doing? Looks like you might've been on the move a bit. You also look like you listen to the Sex Pistols incessantly... thinking of running away and starting a band off your own?"