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Part Two

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Picturing a life with a replaceable father came with unearthed emotions. Although, Johnnyʼs birth father absconded, his own witness of events; a verbal rembrandt spiel inside his mind, the concept of a new father figure in his life felt unnatural. The bitterness and trepidation was unyielding.

Tying the knot solidified Sid’s presence. His heels firmly dug into the abode, just like the claws that clung to Johnnyʼs mother. It is a statement that leaves room for realistic interpretation.

He couldn't help but feel the surge of emotions bubbling to the surface.

Laura, his mother, simply moved on and just allowed another gentleman to pick up the loose threads his birth father left unfastened. She let him into their lives, his prestigious hold in society and between them behind closed doors a strong yet unwelcoming factor. Sid would toss money at them from all angles, assuming that it would fix the issue; fix Johnny.

The donations perceived by Johnny as charity flooded and shaped their lives. He came from a newfound place of wealth, dealt with a better upbringing in terms of financial status. To outsiders that life appeared flawless. Beneath the exterior often painted by societal belief that being cushty came with little to no struggle. That fell short.

Sid threw money at every obstacle insisting it would solve all of life's problems. Granted, money troubles became less apparent than a mere fleeting concern. But what did burn a hole in their pocket wasn't the fulfilment Johnny ever desired.

He longed for acceptance, unconditional love and importantly nurturing.

Acceptance came in fits and starts, the majority of it only apparent when Laura twisted Sid’s arm to play less harshly. Johnny, as much as he was young by age, picked up on the deceit and facade. His stepfather barely harbored enough love for him. In his eyes, Johnny was a troubled kid, jumping from one interest to the next, burning holes in his pocket and racking up a mountain of supposed debt.

In truth, each and every activity Johnny felt drawn to came from a place of wanting to feel something. He wanted to feel something other than disregard and numbness. Johnny wanted a chance for someone to believe in him, see his successes as an attribute that continued to peak. And in reflection, Johnny would do exactly that, fleeting from one thing to another. His mindset would shift and when given a chance to pursue a hobby or interest, it felt like a dead cert; until it shifted again.

There appeared to be an undertone of indecisiveness, Johnny unable to commit to something and see it through. His interest dwindled and although to outsiders it appeared fleeting and as though he was merely a kid that couldn't make up his mind, Johnny truthfully could not fathom who he happened to be. Flitting from one thing to the next became a continuous cycle of finding a fix of positive reinforcement. Johnny needed to feel a wave of identity, lost within the undisclosed trauma and acknowledgment of emotions.

It was a tangled mess of interests, the most prominent one an impact that Johnny hadn't felt before:

“Old School Karate.”

Discipline became second nature just like the rest of the spiel that became drummed into him. Then the literality of it tainted the world around him, filling Johnny's glass only halfway. His teacher, better referred to in those circumstances as a ‘Sensei’ oozed authority in every sense of the word. The harshness and boldness of the words he spoke, became tinged with importance. It laced around the syllables and heightened the need for obligation from those before him that stood in line.

Acceptance. Johnny found this within the four walls that became induced with teenagers that pushed their anger into fighting beyond boundaries they ever thought necessary or capable of. Though its embodiment, the driving force between the needs Johnny desired and longed for in the depths and weaving of charisma, confidence and charm was his Sensei; Kreese.

The hold knew little to no boundaries. Johnny was utterly captivated. John Kreese expressed belief on more than one occasion. It was fuelled with acceptance, care and understanding. The territory was foreign and yet, welcoming. Johnny felt heard and seen. His ability to thrive and bathe in the acceptance only drove him to become blindsided by the reality of the situation.

It was no fault of their own. Kreese battled his own emotional turmoil and redirected it in the only way he truly knew how. All while, Johnny happened to be craving the things John was offering to him on a plate; the buffet was endless.

Unconditional love became woven into Johnny's actions. His mistakes on the mat came with consequences as a given, but Kreese soon put those worries to bed with an overturn of verbal beliefs. It rectified the unbalance in Johnny's mind and in turn obliterated any lingering doubts. Kreese turned the occasion on its head, providing Johnny with all that he needed. Their dynamic, one that satisfied each other's unmet needs.

Nurturing came in the pushing of striving to succeed. Putting Johnny to the test derived from a place of love, belief and ultimately comfort. Kreese was plaguing him with all Johnny desired and longed for. It wasn't necessarily conscious for neither parties, yet it only cemented their importance to each other.

Johnny became a son in the eyes of John Kreese. And that is all he ever wanted, a father figure to aid in navigating his life, offering support without question and in turn fatherly love that seemed to know no boundaries.

It was ultimately unconditional.

Part One

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Blindly reciting the on-screen script that's flicking across the box television is something Johnny can do in his sleep. He's a creature of habit, choosing the same movies, liquor and attire right down to the apartment he remains put in. Despite his step-father, Sid Weinberg's handouts for the rent of the low-end budget abode, Johnny refuses to pack up his belongings and find a new setup. It would break away all the coping mechanisms he surrounds himself with, unknowingly consumed by a sense of being stuck within not only the same four walls, memoirs and familiarity, but stuck in a mindset Johnny unwillingly fell into; a void of stunted growth, a numbing of pain poorly dressed by a bandaid of alcohol and unresolved bitterness. 

Remaining in the apartment is something Johnny can control, just the same way he can expect the scenes that repeatedly play out on the television. 

The eighties brought Johnny some undeniable pain alongside some positive memoirs. Subconsciously suppressing the emotional state he endured, only fuelled the decision to wear the same attire time and time again. It somehow provides Johnny with familiarity and stability. People offer ridicule and speculation that he's simply a gentleman stuck in his ways, left behind by the growth of technology, societal expectations, norms and while that may present true, Johnny also potentially finds a safety net within those aspects; these life choices are something he can willingly control.

Truthfully, he's a person, lost beneath the surface. Feeling broken beyond repair is Johnny's unvocalised motto; at least primarily. It stems from loss, something he's grown accustomed to from an impressionable, developing stage of life. 

Falling back into the void, as an on-looker isn't something Johnny had planned to partake in. Unable to shake the memoirs that flood in while his thumb caresses the label on the outer of the bottle provides little aid in obliterating them. The voices louder than the film, Iron Eagle, playing in the background only transports his younger self back to the day his biological father and mother exchanged distasteful words; ones neither could seemingly take back. Though it never appeared aparrent, until his mother, Laura remarried.

"...And I have nothing left to say," his father confessed blunty, the words echoing up the staircase. 

Johnny sat on the top step, head resting against the wooden rail. Rolling the wheels of a toy car over his thigh, he continued to listen to the words exchanged.

"What about our son?" She probed, voice laced with hurt and desperation. "You can't just leave - leave us -" Her voice pitched in volume.

His father's tone matched in pitch; a sense they were closing the distance between themselves and the staircase. Johnny scrambled to his feet, listening closely. "Laura, I am done-" 

"At least consider him in this. He's just a kid. What about building a relationship with him?'" She paused. "Even if we're done, none of this is his fault. You're unfairly punishing him." 

"I have nothing left to say." 

Following the six bluntly shared words, the door closes with a finalised bang. It echoed through the walls Johnny called home, a place of sanctuary even at his young age. Shortly after, partially suppressed sobs from his mother filled the unwelcomed silence and Johnny only had his own four walls of comfort and his cassette player, a purchase for his birthday; a fortnight ago. Wanting to drown out the words shared, he pulled it out from under the divan, quickly hitting the play button with force. With the familiar soundtrack filling his ears instead, Johnny rolled the car along the carpeted flooring. He needed a distraction, and this was more than welcomed with open arms. 

Self-blame soon became a fixture embedded in the cocktail of hurt, loss, grief and importantly anfillable void in regards to a figure of authority.