Oscar. It is difficult to find the words to describe our bond. All I know is that it’s unique. As my only sibling, you are limited edition to me. We may not have always been in the same county, or even the same country at times, but I could always count on you. You brought me home when I broke my leg, you helped me change my first tyre in the dark and I could always rely on you to pick me up a vape and keep it a secret from Mum and Dad. I knew that even though you were younger than me, you would always protect me. But I do just wanted to clear up the fact that I am actually 26 years old, as I know you told all your mates I was 9 to save me from their RIZZ. My favourite moments of us are not just the ones of us snorkelling in the Red Sea, or wandering round foreign cities, but also just the simple car journeys to Maccie’s, sharing songs with each other. It is rare to know someone from the beginning to the end but I clearly remember holding you in hospital on your first day and I will never forget that I was with you in the hours of your last. Being in that lotus with you, I was so proud of how happy you were with all you had achieved. I know on your last night, you were doing what you ABSOLUTELY loved. And I would never want to remember you any other way. You had always told me I was the golden child during the sibling rivalry, but that lotus was a bright yellow middle finger to me, so I will let you have that one. We have been taught ‘life’s crap and then you die’, but yours wasn’t. You explored the Earth, built and empire of friends and found a job you adored. You lived more life in your 21 years than most of us ever will. When I heard my little brother was travelling abroad to work on press cars worth thousands of pounds, I could not believe this is the same Oscar I watched mum pick raisins out of his nose in Marks and Spencers. I have never known someone so naturally funny, or someone who has generated as many ICONIC inside jokes as you have. I am awful at telling stories anyway, but I am glad I am speaking to those who know you, as we all know your presence and humour were so individual that trying to convey them through words would never do you justice. You really did ‘just have to be there’, and how lucky of us that we were! You made moments that I would randomly laugh to myself about, decades down the line. I was very serious about my job as a big sister and tormented you relentlessly, but you have always been a good sport, and eventually, you turned out to be even wittier than I am, so I will pass that off as character development. I have come to realise that you were not just my brother, but you were OUR brother. You made friends with everyone, everywhere. I have always known you were popular, but since you have been gone I have been overwhelmed with the amount of connection you had in you life. If love alone could have saved you, you would would never have died. I have always admired your spirit and your charisma. So I know, wherever you are now, you will have no problem making friends there either. I cannot say goodbye because you still live on. You will be in the conversations I have with strangers about my hilarious brother, you will be in the way we know you would react to things even though you’re not here. You will be in the stories I have yet to hear from your friends. If they are anything like the one I heard of you getting chucked out of Flex for dirty dancing, then I look forward to listening. We have sometimes gone a few months without seeing each other. Eventually, we always reunite to have a laugh and share the highlights of our adventures. I know we will have that again one day, but we might just have to wait a little longer this time.