I do not own Sing
One shot for the Sing movie. Needs more fan fiction anyways. I also wrote this awhile ago so I don't know about this. Rated T for mild language and action.
Johnny, before he ever knew he wanted to be an musician, used to want to be in his dad's gang. Since he was little, he remembered adoring his dad and everything he did even if some things were questionable.
Those thoughts turned from admiration to horror when he was around thirteen. Johnny had just started in a new public school and tried to be like his dad so much. Kids avoided him because they all heard the rumors of him stealing stuff, giving teachers a hard time, and starting fights. Most of them weren't just rumors, they were his life he worked so hard to have. At thirteen Johnny still had baby fat that no matter how much he lifted or ran he couldn't get rid of and was smaller than most gorillas his age, so being what physical strength he didn't really have he pretended he was the most biggest kid in school even if that caused some peers like the elephants or wolves to throw a punch at him when his ego got to high.
Because he never used to be such a reserved gorilla, he learned with trial and error to shut his mouth and walk away from theft that his dad did on regular occurrence.
Therefore, before he was that such reserved gorilla, Johnny was in simple terms a dick to be around. He talked with no filter and wasn't afraid to rough people up or slip a little something in his jacket pocket just for the sake of being like his dad. He knew poverty and lived like the thug he was. He smoked with a few buddies in the bathrooms, skipping class, and talked shit about people just to see their public humiliation. Yeah, Johnny was a horrible kid. Kicked out of over four schools, at least the ones he was still attending when his dad wasn't picking him up in their big moving van or what he called the 'we got to leave this town before the cops show up' van. Never bothered him that much though. New school meant new identity and a new face the students could cower at.
So school was school for the most part for Johnny, and during the day when he was busy causing chaos, at night his dad was teaching him to drive a stick shift truck, how to steal without being caught, and common ways to pull off heists. And all of that continued up until he was much older and his dad got landed in prison for a couple years, but before that Johnny had seen something that changed his perspective on his dad. It changed himself too.
He remembered laying in bed one night in a worn out t-shirt and basketball shorts in the middle of the dark, thinking about his day at school and how things were gonna plan out for a certain nuisance in his class tomorrow.
Johnny had his hands in a loose grip and stared up at the ceiling. His small room that was supposed to be a closet for the body shop was pitch black and the cot he was laying on was drooping in the middle, and he wished he had stuffed boxes underneath it in case it gave out. His pillow was lumpy from the money he'd stuff in it for safekeeping, the green blanket wrapped around his legs was stiff and smelled like cigars from his dad and gang, and he wondered slightly when the last time he had new sheets.
The gorilla heard the switch of a light turning on from outside his room and turned his head towards his door. He could see the light illuminating from under his door and shadows moving about. Low voices began to increase, and between the footsteps and multiple conversations, Johnny could barely hear his dad trying to quiet the others down.
Johnny knew his dad sometimes had late night meetings but they were generally upstairs, and if they weren't, that meant he was about to do something big. Johnny perked up and climbed out of bed, opening his dresser drawer. He wasn't gonna be left out of the next big heist.
He pulled out a small mask with two eye holes and bunny ears and crept over to his door, kicking dirty clothes to the side. Johnny knew better than to make a scene opening the door and demanding why his dad left him out of another crime, so he pulled the door open as quietly as he could and peeked outside.
The first figure he saw was his dad's back to him, large and tense, and beside him was his gang. The large gorillas had their gold necklaces around their necks and chests puffed out through their blue jumpsuits in a warning towards some random other men standing in front of the garage door, and Johnny took a step out of his small room and watched the exchange, confused.
His dad never brought in other guys especially these type of guys blocking the entrance to their shop. Six scrawny statue coyotes with pants hanging low and missing patches of fur. Some even had hoop piercings above their eyes and in their ears. They looked like low thugs that crawled out of the ghetto. The kind of criminals his dad never wasted his time to associate with.
Five of the thugs stood behind the slightly taller coyote with darker fur and was yelling and shouting at his dad about doing something he shouldn't of. There was a silver blade in the supposed leader's hand, and he was swinging it from gorilla to gorilla while the others took a step closer to his dad's gang and tried sizing them up.
Johnny could feel the exposure in the air and it was something he hadn't felt in a long time. He wasn't one to cower away but the threat of these guys and the menacing stance of his big dad had him backing up towards the concrete wall to put some distance from the spiraling out of control situation.
An engine crane that was placed a couple meters away from his bedroom door hid his body from view as he squeezed between that and a car body. He kept a firm grip on the mask in his hand and stared up at his dad with wide eyes.
Johnny watched as his dad's voice became throaty and hard, demanding the coyotes to drop their weapons and leave his automobile shop, but they just continued to shout louder and accuse him of stealing their stuff. Then took a step closer, in which his dad did too until he put a foot down and held his place.
The leader of the coyote group dashed forward, blade pointing ahead, and in a second, violence broke out. Knives and different types of weapons were thrashing in different directions. Bodies slamming into each other and tools being thrown across the room, and Johnny brought his knees to his chest, muffling his cries.
Three of the six coyotes distanced themselves from the fight and were scrambling around to drawers and one of the desks that was on the far wall away from Johnny. They didn't get much time to search for whatever they were looking for before the right handed man to Johnny's dad came in, smashing a crow bar down on their heads where they fell to the floor. The wielding gorilla dropped the tool to the ground with a clang and hustled over to help another member of the gorilla gang who was wrestling two of the more scrawny coyotes with both big arms practically smashing their heads.
The last one, who Johnny remembered was great at making pancake breakfasts, had the leader of the opposing group in a tight head lock and staring up at Johnny's dad, asking what he wants him to do.
Then the garage got darker and Johnny felt a hand grip in his chest as his dad stood with a cut on his arm under his rolled up sleeve, and a cold stoned face. Johnny almost shouted at him why he was still just staring at him. Why didn't he let him go? He'd thought the coyotes been through enough with half their group out of commission.
The grip in his chest loosened, and he let out a held in breath as his dad gave a slight nod to let the coyote go and walked away from the thug that was forced to kneel down on the floor.
Johnny stood up slightly and moved away from the engine crane closer to his bedroom door to take in the scene, smirking at the coyotes who were trying to pick each other up. His dad had moved to the desk that was now a mess from the chaos and opened a large drawer at the bottom.
His voice was foreboding as he talked aloud. He stated clearly that they had to leave right that second or he'd shoot them all and as the small gang turned their backs away from the garage to run, a sharp bang boomed through the building.
The sound echoed down the streets and in Johnny's ears, ringing. It vibrated his chest where the cold feeling quickly came back, more solid and never leaving. Johnny fell to the ground, bruising his wrist as he fell back in horror at what had happened.
He couldn't look at his dad but the pistol in his dad's large grip already fired and about to again as the trigger was pulled back a second time. Johnny thinks he screamed but no one ever turned to see him in the corner, huddled close to the wall. Not one man except the leader of the coyote group with dead eyes looked at him.
He didn't stay for the third round or the extra gun shots that followed as he scrambled backwards until he hit his door frame and turned around, slamming his door shut at the rhythm of another shot going off. All he saw when he hid on the other side of his bed was the blurry light from underneath his door and shadows swiftly moving and running around.
That night as the ear piercing sounds and shouts stopped, Johnny was in a ball, tears streaming down his face, and eyes screwed shut. When his dad came in with a duffel bag yelling at him to grab as much as he could, he swore to himself he'd never be what his dad wanted him to be. That he couldn't.
So a couple days later, sitting in a motel on a bed, he decided he still loved his dad even after the mysterious murder of six criminal coyotes presented itself on the news, but he'd never want to be in this gang.
Years later when he finally got that off his chest for once he felt like he was for the first time being completely honest to his dad. He honestly couldn't be in his gang.