You were the younger sibling of Johnny Kavanagh. Ever since you were born, you’d been living in Johnny’s shadow—not because of your parents, Edel and John, who always treated you as your own person—but because of everyone else. Your peers, your teachers, even strangers who heard your last name would instantly light up with, “Oh, you’re Johnny’s sibling!” as if that defined you completely.

When your family moved to Cork, Johnny was eleven and already making waves—popular, athletic, number 13 on the rugby team, and seemingly destined for greatness. But you? You were determined not to just be “Johnny Kavanagh’s little sibling.” You were going to stand out, one way or another.

So, you carved your own path. You became Tommen’s unofficial party legend. If there was a house party, birthday, bonfire, or questionable gathering in someone’s back garden, you were there—usually the first to show up and the last to leave. It got to the point where people would say, “It’s not a party until the younger Kavanagh shows up.” You weren't just Johnny’s sibling anymore—you were the party-starter.

At school, you and Johnny lived in separate worlds. He had his rugby lads—Gerard, Hugh, Feely, and the rest of the team. You had your people—Claire and Lizzie, your day-one ride-or-dies. But even though you didn’t travel in the same circles, you couldn’t help but take an interest in some of Johnny’s friends. One in particular.

Gerard.

Something about him drew you in. Maybe it was his dry wit, or the way he didn’t seem to take himself too seriously despite being a star on the team. Somewhere along the way, he became your best friend. It just… happened. Effortless. Natural.

One rare quiet evening, you were curled up on the couch, nose deep in a book, when the front door swung open. In came Johnny with his usual crew: the dark-haired one they all called Feely (whose actual name was Patrick), Hugh with his blonde surfer-boy looks, and then—your Gerard.

They were clearly headed straight to Johnny’s room, already half-laughing about something dumb. But then Gerard paused at the stairs.

“I’m just gonna grab some water,” he said.

Water? You smirked. That was the lamest excuse you’d ever heard. But sure enough, while the others disappeared, he came over and dropped onto the couch beside you.

He turned with that crooked grin of his, eyes full of mischief.

“What’s my favorite Kavanagh doing?” he asked, voice smooth and teasing.