Chapter Text
This story does not start in Lawrence, Kansas, twenty-two years ago. Nor does it end there, for that matter.
Matter of fact, it doesn't even start in America. Not everything happens there, you know; there are a few other continents other than the states. Asia, Africa, Oceania, South America, Antarctica, Europe. USA Americans got their fifteen season, 2005-2020 TV show.
This story is, however, set in Europe. In one of the most famous countries, in fact— that is to say, France.
The first paragraph in Wikipedia regarding France reads as such: "France, officially the French Republic, is a country primarily located in Western Europe. Its overseas regions and territories include French Guiana in South America, Saint Pierre and Miquelon in the North Atlantic, the French West Indies, and many islands in Oceania and the Indian Ocean. Metropolitan France shares borders with Belgium and Luxembourg to the north; Germany to the northeast; Switzerland to the east; Italy and Monaco to the southeast; Andorra and Spain to the south; and a maritime border with the United Kingdom to the northwest. Its metropolitan area extends from the Rhine to the Atlantic Ocean and from the Mediterranean Sea to the English Channel and the North Sea. Its 18 integral regions—five of which are overseas—span a combined area of 632,702 km2 (244,288 sq mi), with a total population estimated at 69.1 million in 2026. Its capital, largest city and main cultural and economic centre is Paris."
Shaped like a pentagon, characterised by a language whose words are spelled worse than English— truly, only anglophones have spelling tests and spelling bees, but such a thing might be useful to francophones as well (example: the word 'oiseaux', pronounced 'wazo', meaning birds)—, France is a country with excellent food and a revolutionary history, quite literally. There's actually a whole Wikipedia page named 'List of civil unrest in France', because the French are the French and no one is surprised a Wikipedia page like this exists.
France has also been characterised by a rich cultural history, with many significant and talented writers like Alexandre Dumas, and our beloved but rather loquacious Victor Hugo. If you are reading this, you most certainly tip your hat at the latter.
So, no.
This is not set in Lawrence, Kansas. There is no 1967 black four-doored Chevrolet Impala, nor two brothers named like fire-arms (which is an utterly American thing to be named like). No trench-coated angel will say, 'I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition', nor will any middle-aged man say 'Idjit'.
That's a wonderful story, no doubt. One whose ending was butchered due to a global pandemic. One who made many of us go through pain and suffering and Tumblr posts and Archive of Our Own late-night scrolls.
While we are still in the same universe for this, let us zoom in in another part of the world. That is to say, Paris, France. (Coincidentally, the story also ends there.)