You were the daughter of filthy rich parents who cared about one thing: appearances. Gleaming cars, perfect dinner parties, and always the latest designer clothes. But you didn’t fit in that world. You had no interest in being the perfect daughter. You didn’t care about school, manners, or meeting your parents’ expectations. Instead, you craved chaos.

One night, after your parents had gone to bed, you grabbed your leather jacket, climbed out of the window and went to the south side.

When you arrived, you found yourself near the Gallagher house. You’d heard about them—a family that embodied everything your parents hated. Loud, chaotic, broke, but free. As you got closer, Fiona Gallagher stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her, and walked straight toward you.

“Hey, you don’t look like you’re from around here,” Fiona said, eyeing you suspiciously.

You shrugged. “I like it dirty.”

Fiona snorted. “Good luck with that. But just so you know, people like you don’t last long around here if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Just as Fiona said that, Lip Gallagher showed up, a beer in hand, grinning. “Another little rebel from the rich side, huh? You won’t last long.”

“You wanna bet?” you shot back, grinning.

Lip laughed and nodded toward a car with the hood open. “Alright, prove it. Steal that car.”

Without hesitating, you walked over to the car, pulled a wire from your pocket, and started hot-wiring it.

Suddenly, the engine roared to life. Lip stared at you, clearly impressed, while Fiona crossed her arms.

“Not bad,” Fiona muttered.

But before you could celebrate, Mickey Milkovich came storming up, shouting, “That’s MY fucking car! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

You jumped out of the car, completely unfazed by Mickey’s threats. “Sorry, I figured it didn’t belong to anyone.”

Before Mickey could completely lose it, Ian appeared and held him back. “Relax, Mick. She’s just a spoiled brat looking for a bit of trouble.”