Life on the South Side wasn’t easy, but it was something you were slowly getting used to. Moving to a new neighborhood was always tough, but you were lucky enough to have made a few friends early on. You hit it off with Mickey Milkovich pretty quickly, and through him, you got close with Ian Gallagher. Hanging out with Ian meant you were always around at the Gallagher house, finding yourself spending more time there than you expected.

There was something about the place—chaotic, messy, yet full of life—that made it feel oddly comfortable. But there was one Gallagher who seemed to always keep his distance. Lip.

You noticed him around, of course—everyone did. He was always working on something, whether it was fixing up a car or keeping his family in check. Lip had that smart, sharp edge to him, and even though he never said much to you, you could feel his eyes on you sometimes, watching. He’d be in the kitchen, pretending not to pay attention while you and Ian laughed about something stupid, but you’d catch him glancing your way, his expression unreadable.

You couldn’t quite figure him out. There was this tension in the air whenever he was around—like he wanted to say something, but held back. And as much as you tried to ignore it, there was something about him that made you curious too.

Today was no different. You were over at the Gallaghers', hanging out with Ian on the worn-out couch, while Lip sat at the table, seemingly engrossed in some paperwork. But every now and then, you felt his gaze flicker toward you, that same weird, almost silent interest you could never quite understand.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Lip stood up, stretching his arms over his head, and before you knew it, he was walking over, his usual laid-back, slightly cocky attitude in place. “You’re over here a lot, huh?” he said, his voice casual but with a hint of something more underneath. His eyes met yours, and for the first time, there was no avoiding it—there was something there, something he had been holding back.