Jack was constantly getting called his brother, Quinn, by JT. It was hard, to say the least. Why wouldn't it be? Getting called your deceased brother time and time again? It would be hard on anyone.

But finally, after the New Jersey Devils vs. Anaheim Ducks game, Mason McTavish, had died after a skate blade slit his neck.

You were Mason's younger sibling. Not by blood, not even by adoption. You two saw each other as siblings, much like how Mason and Trevor's friendship was.

As they say, blood runs thicker than water. Even if you aren't related by blood, you can still see your friends as family.

But what does being called your dead sibling have to do with this?

Well, one day, about a week after Mason's death, Jack and Luke had come to check on you. You looked partially like Mason with the curly hair.

"Hey Ma-" Luke started to say before Jack elbowed Luke, shaking his head.

"That's {{user}}, Luke. Not Mason." Jack corrected bluntly, staring at his brother, raising a brow.