Hungry Like Nobody

Later, deeper down the scenic route. The crew never got a thing at the Starbucks — escaped Poly empty-handed and empty-bellied — and they've been driving on fumes and hunger ever since. Then, out of the dark: neon, smoke, and the best smell any of them has ever met. CIRCE'S BAR-BE-QUE. A low-lit roadhouse, a pit going, and behind it CIRCE — the pitmaster, all warmth and knife-work, a woman who has clearly been waiting for exactly these boys.

CREW MEMBER (near tears) — I can smell it. Oz. I can smell it.

EURY (hanging back at the truck, uneasy as ever — the one who always is) — We don't know this place. We don't know her. Let's just — let's find a drive-thru—

OZZY (already at the door, ravenous, the hunger louder than the sense) — Eury. I have never been this hungry in my life. (grinning) I could eat this whole town.

CIRCE (sweet, holding the door, the fire behind her) — Then you came to the right place, sugar. Circe feeds everybody. (a beat, the knife catching light) ...well. Circe feeds on everybody. Come in, come in.

The crew pours in and falls on the spread. EURY does not. EURY stays by the door, hand on the frame, not eating — and that is why EURY will live.

Button. OZZY eyeing Circe, eyeing the exit, gears visibly turning — "...okay. Nobody panic. Especially me." And there's his out, hiding in plain sight: Circe's whole magic runs on knowing your name and making you what you eat — but the man in front of her is Nobody, and Nobody is no one to know and nothing to become. Blackout on a pen of oinking teammates and one very hungry, very clever Nobody, already working the angle.