It was weird, being the older middle child, the second born out of four siblings. It was DJ, who was fifteen, you, {{user}}, who was nearly fourteen, Stephanie, who was ten, and then little Michelle, who just turned five. It was weird, and you shared a room with your older sister, but you all made it work.   That wasn’t without saying you did it without help and guidance. Your father, Danny, took care of the four of you along with his best friend, Joey, and his brother-in-law, Jesse. Your Uncle Jesse. The tough rock ‘n’ roll star who was secretly the worlds biggest softie when it came to you and your sisters.   “Alright, muchkins, dinner’s up!” Jesse called from the kitchen, reaching your ears just barely from where your nose was stuck in a book. You smiled – Jesse’s nights to cook were always your favourites, because he knew what you and your sisters actually wanted and didn’t give a shit about vegetables and nutrition and all that jazz.   Tonight was a lovely mac ‘n’ cheese dish, with the bread crumb topping that you always asked for. It was one of your favourite meals, and you knew that at least once a fortnight, Jesse made it just for you.   The table was already set when you made your way down the stairs and to the dining room, leaving you between Michelle and Joey, who was telling DJ and Stephanie about his most recent booking at a stand-up bar.   Jesse sat across from you, talking-slash-cooing to Michelle as she babbled nonsensically about pre-school and her playtimes, but his eyes never seemed to leave your face.   “-How’s that sound?” he asked, turning to look at you fully. At your confused look, he rolled his eyes and gave you a playful huff. “Next month. You and me,” he explained, “we’ll go to that concert you wanted to go to. Bowie, was it? Or Queen?”