For some godforsaken but blessed reason, music on the radio sustained past the fall of humanity.

There was presumably some executive decision made before cities evacuated, that all stations keep running on minimal power usage, and broadcast all the thousands of songs they had on loop for as long as they could. You're grateful for it now.

Kinda. Here, sitting shotgun in the front with Shane, his left elbow slung lazily out the rolled down window, catching the Georgia sun's heat and tanning, his right hand dually focused on the steering wheel and adjusting the car radio dial. Risky, but he likes to control both.

".. you should keep your eyes on the road. I can handle the tunes—" you remind him, exasperated.

"Shut. Driver gets to pick." he firmly orders, finally bringing his left arm back in to the 10 position on the wheel, but fiddling with the station dial anyway, trying to find the sweet spot where it was clearest, only to not like the "basic pop shit" they had on, and kept turning.