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Henry has a habit of taking everything literally, as literal as the human mind can imagine. Everything matters to him, everything is serious, and if he gets to prove how serious he can take something, an imaginary gold star is stuck to the sticky end of his brain. It’s not intentional, his surface-level understanding of give and take; he’s barely twenty, only knows the ins and outs of an ice cream shop as a glimpse into the real world. He’s not like that on purpose, no, but it makes it easy to fuck with him. Really easy.
So Greg takes him shopping, except when they get off their bus, they stay put. Henry thinks nothing of this, only steps back and stands there when Greg tells him to.
“You’re thinning out, man,” he crosses his arms, and Henry blinks, looking down at his biceps.
“Uh, yeah, I didn’t eat today?” Henry scoffs, because he’s as snarky as he is obedient, “Or yesterday, or the day before that, or the week before that-”
“So eat.” Greg looks at the entrance to the grocery store, doesn’t move when Henry follows his eyes, looking back and forth between him and the glass doors.
“I don't have any…” he pauses, his eyebrows raising as he starts to get it, starts to blink slower when he realizes he’s between Greg and a wall, then he sighs, “...money.”
“Neither do I, but I don’t make it someone else’s problem,” Greg still doesn’t look at him, only points to a family walking out, bags in hand, smiles on faces, “You eat what they have. Find out what it is, find out how to get it, and you eat it.” he sticks his hands in his pockets, “They’ll eat you at our shows if you don’t put on weight. Like flies to a dead cockroach.”
“Jesus, man, you know I suck at that,” Henry tucks his hands under his arms, rocking on his heels ever so slightly, “Why can’t we go somewhere? They let us eat for free at Rico’s. Even if the food’s kinda, y’know, from other people’s plates. I can go for a half-eaten burger right now, I think we can-”
“Get me some coconut water when you’re done,” Greg slaps him on the shoulder, guiding him inside.
Henry's already walking, not saying a word, fists clenching and releasing, back muscles tensing up under his tank top.
When Henry comes back, an empty bag of snack-styled popcorn folded up under his arm as proof of his deed, Greg is gone. The parking lot is mostly cars, families popping in and out, dogs being walked, but no sign of Greg Ginn. Out of his sight, Henry will hear a bus moving, quieter and quieter as it leaves its stop, which was supposed to be their stop. Henry knows he’ll have to find his way back to SST, alone, with a bottle of coconut water getting warm in his hand.