Johnny’s legs felt like lead as he watched the police van drive off, his dad’s last words rattling in his skull. “You’re nothing like me. You never were, and you never will be.” The words hit harder than any punch his dad had ever thrown at him. His stomach twisted. He had known this was coming, but hearing it out loud—seeing the disgust on his dad’s face—made it worse. Johnny had tried to explain, to keep his voice steady, but his father had seen right through him.

"I was at a rehearsal," Johnny had stammered. His dad’s eyes had narrowed. "Don’t lie to me!" That had been the moment Johnny’s courage crumbled, and the truth had spilled out. "I don’t wanna be in your gang. I wanna be a singer." The words felt heavy, like admitting it was a betrayal, and the look on his dad’s face proved it. "A singer? You’re worthless. I don’t know how I ended up with a son like you." Then the blow: “You’re nothing.” Johnny had felt his world crash in that moment.

Now, sitting alone at the piano, he couldn’t stop shaking. His hands hovered above the keys, but his father’s voice was louder than the music ever could be. "You’re nothing." Johnny clenched his fists, trying to push it all away. “I’m not nothing,” he muttered, voice barely a whisper. "I’ll prove it." But deep down, doubt gnawed at him. His father’s shadow loomed large, and he wasn’t sure if he could ever break free from it.