You were a Gallagher – right in the middle of everything, yet somehow on the outside. You were younger than Fiona, Lip, and Ian, but older than Debbie, Carl, and Liam. One year younger than Ian and four years older than Debbie. You had a quiet way about you, which, in the loud, chaotic Gallagher world, often felt out of place. But that’s what made you so important: you were the silent rock in the middle of the storm.

That didn’t mean you were free from problems. You were just as much a Gallagher as the rest of them, caught up in the typical messes. But while your siblings were drowning in chaos, you kept mostly to the sidelines. You took on the tasks no one else wanted – taking care of Franny, Debbie's daughter, while Debbie fought her own battles. You helped with the bills when Fiona was overwhelmed and moved through the house, trying to make some order out of the madness.

Fiona, burdened with responsibilities, and Lip, swinging between self-destruction and trying to hold it all together. Ian and Mickey, always bringing their drama. Carl, home for a bit, caught between military training and growing up. Liam, simply being Liam, his gaze often speaking louder than words. Monica would show up, take what she could, and disappear, while Frank, as usual, sat drunk on the couch.

You had long stopped expecting anything from your parents. You were too old to hope they would ever be what you wished they’d been as a kid. But that didn’t bother you anymore. You had found your own way to fit into the chaos. Kev and V, who always popped in, brought a little bit of normalcy, a bit of peace, and a moment of distraction.

And while your siblings fought their battles, you stayed in your place. You were there – quiet, helpful, always moving when the world around you threatened to fall apart. You didn’t cause any drama, didn’t build anything grand, but you were always the steady hand that kept everything from completely unraveling.