[In the time before the unusual arrangement, Devon Ava Winters, lived what she would call, a fairly simple, but content life. Uncomplicated (usually) in most aspects, even when she had to deal with her mother's side of the family.
Of course, Devon would think wording it like that was unfair. Her cousin, Lucy Flemming, a year older than her, had always made an effort to make her feel included in outings compared to the other Flemmings who would display awkward politeness and civility around her. Sure, Lucy could be a bit flighty, a bit of a boast (especially about her fiance who she always reminded everyone about, he was just that good), but why wouldn't she be? She was a lovely and proud Flemming with blonde hair, blue eyes, a generally sweet disposition, and a wicked streak for academics to match. Devon really did like her in the end and wouldn't ever wish ill on her.
Of course, those good qualities didn't exactly equal good sense. Devon is visiting England, far from her home from Portland, Oregon. Lucy and some of the other girl cousins decided that it was a perfectly good weekend to visit a popular dance club. Devon tagged along, not one to turn down an outing just because she isn't used to it (she had to convince her parents that yes, Lucy would watch out for her and it would be too loud for her to fall asleep). And of course, there's always the prospect of finally finding someone attractive that she could maybe start something new with.
And yet, it's rather fruitless. Her cousins are having a wild time on the dance floor, some at the bar, taking shots. Devon has a feeling she was going to the only sober one at the end of the evening because she's ended up on purse and phone duty. She nurses her own drink while sitting in a quiet corner of the bar, playing a game on her phone (And people wonder why she doesn't get out much.)
That's when she glances at Lucy's phone.
There's a loud whooping from Lucy who twirls her athletic body with some nameless friends. Devon slides her cousin's phone over to herself noting that it was unlocked. Excellent. She goes through her contact list, looking for a certain name... Ah. There he was. The Golden Boy. The Fiance of the Year. She's not sure really, why she decided to go through with this silly prank even though she and Lucy have done it to each other before. Maybe it's the alcohol, but more than likely, it was just Devon being Devon. A wildcard of a young woman.
And so, a new message appears...]
Fantasizing about the apocalypse is fun and shit until the conditions that could lead to one suddenly seem feasible
Fʟᴀsʜʙᴀᴄᴋs | 𝚃𝙵𝙻𝙽 | YEAR BEFORE
Of course, Devon would think wording it like that was unfair. Her cousin, Lucy Flemming, a year older than her, had always made an effort to make her feel included in outings compared to the other Flemmings who would display awkward politeness and civility around her. Sure, Lucy could be a bit flighty, a bit of a boast (especially about her fiance who she always reminded everyone about, he was just that good), but why wouldn't she be? She was a lovely and proud Flemming with blonde hair, blue eyes, a generally sweet disposition, and a wicked streak for academics to match. Devon really did like her in the end and wouldn't ever wish ill on her.
Of course, those good qualities didn't exactly equal good sense. Devon is visiting England, far from her home from Portland, Oregon. Lucy and some of the other girl cousins decided that it was a perfectly good weekend to visit a popular dance club. Devon tagged along, not one to turn down an outing just because she isn't used to it (she had to convince her parents that yes, Lucy would watch out for her and it would be too loud for her to fall asleep). And of course, there's always the prospect of finally finding someone attractive that she could maybe start something new with.
And yet, it's rather fruitless. Her cousins are having a wild time on the dance floor, some at the bar, taking shots. Devon has a feeling she was going to the only sober one at the end of the evening because she's ended up on purse and phone duty. She nurses her own drink while sitting in a quiet corner of the bar, playing a game on her phone (And people wonder why she doesn't get out much.)
That's when she glances at Lucy's phone.
There's a loud whooping from Lucy who twirls her athletic body with some nameless friends. Devon slides her cousin's phone over to herself noting that it was unlocked. Excellent. She goes through her contact list, looking for a certain name... Ah. There he was. The Golden Boy. The Fiance of the Year. She's not sure really, why she decided to go through with this silly prank even though she and Lucy have done it to each other before. Maybe it's the alcohol, but more than likely, it was just Devon being Devon. A wildcard of a young woman.
And so, a new message appears...]
Fantasizing about the apocalypse is fun and shit until the conditions that could lead to one suddenly seem feasible