Harry smokes weed a lot. We were the same age when we first met doing day labor, and we were most often the last ones waiting for jobs in the afternoon. I don’t know where he came from before that. We never really talked about it. I was the one who vouched for him to join the band, but as soon as Casimir was gone, he turned his back on the punk rock values to become a corporate tool with a steady job.
The tattoos on his arms have stories that change every time he tells them, which might have something to do with the pot.
The thing with Harry is, he was our manager, but he never had an independent thought in his head. That made him a useful guy to have in our cause, but I worry what happens to someone like that when he stops having someone to follow.