Who the hell cares?!

Chapter One.

JIMMY CASSIDY

"Jimmy? Jimmy! Wake up!”

I groaned and turned away from my younger brother – as a close knit family, me and my brother’s all lived together. Well, that, and the fact that we don’t have enough money to live in separate houses. Frankie started shaking me violently. “Fuck off, Frankie!”

“It’s half seven. Danny told me to wake your lazy ass up and if you don’t, he says he’ll come up himself. And you know what happened last time Danny came up to wake you,” Frankie reminded me. How could I fucking forget? Danny came up and dumped a whole bottle of water all over my head. And I don’t mean one of those small bottles. Danny was a year older than me – Frankie, who was a happy little mistake, was only sixteen.

I was twenty six. Talk about oldilocks.

But that makes Danny twenty seven, which is older still.

“What has my sleeping habits ever done to offend Danny?” I grumbled. Frankie tilted his head.

“Danny says you need to get up, drop me off t’ school and look for a job,” he said. “A proper job, he says.” Frankie was basically used as a little messenger from Danny most times, because Danny is too lazy to climb up a fleet of stairs.

Frankie was dead smart. He ‘s still in school, and he get’s dead good grades. He studies a lot, and he says he wants to become a surgeon or one of them fancy doctors that look into people’s heads. He will be – but he doesn’t want to go to medical school. “Don’t wanna take money of ye,” he says. But me and Danny are gonna pay him in anyway.

“Alright, alright, I’m up,” I yawned, sitting up, stretching. Frankie sat at the foot of my bed – we shared a room. Danny paid us each a tenner if we gave him the single room. Prick – turned out the money was fucking fake.

“Where you gonna go to work?” Frankie asked me, as I stood up, grabbing my torn jeans from the ground. I shrugged, yawning again behind the back of my hand. “What do you wanna do?” I shrugged again. “Why do you-?”

“Frankie, honestly, shut up,” I snarled. It was freezing in the house this morning. I should’ve guessed – me and Danny were running low on supplies this week. We didn’t sell as much, and we didn’t get enough money to pay off the heating. But we managed to get some water and electricity at least. Hopefully, when I get a job, we’ll be able to afford everything from now on. And then Frankie will get a dead good job and we’ll be eating like kings.

Or lords.

Or maybe just normal people.

We were living off microwave food at the moment, because it was all we could afford.

“I was just gonna ask if you were goin’ out tonight,” Frankie said. I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe. You ain’t comin’ though,” I told him, sternly. Frankie tutted loudly and sulked.

“Why not? I’m old enough! You and Danny treat me like I’m seven, but I ain’t!” Frankie snapped back at me. I ignored him, looking out the window to observe the slums of Liverpool. It wasn’t much of a pretty sight – and especially now since McKennedy’s windows have been smashed in from the raid last night in his house. I saw it all. Frankie woke up with all the noise, but it didn’t take him long going back to sleep. I watched it all from my window though.

“You ain’t old enough. You’re only sixteen,” I repeated for what felt like the one hundredth time, whilst trying to get into my black jeans. They didn’t fit as well as they used to, considering I’ve had them for a long long time. But they were my favourite. “Ye know the bigger lads will beat ye.”