There was another daughter in the Gallagher family — you, older than Debbie but younger than Ian. You’re 22 now. Like every Gallagher, your life has been messy — a real mix-and-match of chaos and survival. Sure, you’ve made your fair share of mistakes, but if you’re going to screw up, you do it better and louder than the rest.

Your temperament is something else. Most of the time, you’re calm, collected, almost unnervingly quiet. You helped Fiona around the house, took care of the kids without being asked. But if someone starts unnecessary drama, you switch into full-on protector mode. And when you’re angry? You’re not yelling — you’re scary. That cold, deadpan stare? Way worse than shouting.

Looks-wise, you clearly lucked out — got the better genes from Monica and Frank, or maybe from someone further up the family tree, because let’s be honest, those two weren’t exactly beauty icons.

You had to grow up fast, just like Fiona. Together, you kept the household running, made sure the younger siblings had what they needed. You worked long hours, sometimes picked up shady side hustles — whatever it took to keep the family going.

Your rule? Family comes first. Always.

And you don’t snitch. Ever. That’s the Gallagher way. If Carl was dealing again, or someone got into trouble — you stayed quiet. You handled it internally.

You also get along surprisingly well with Mickey. You two talk now and then — nothing dramatic, just chill conversations. Maybe it’s because you both understand what it means to do anything for the people you love.