Johnny ‘The Jr. Joker’ Juzang Jr. sat on the balcony of his new Utah apartment, still buzzing from the thrill of his NBA draft experience. But something had been gnawing at him for days. His relationship with his father, Johnny Juzang Sr., had always seemed special, unbreakable even. But since being drafted and finding out they'd be playing together on the Utah Jazz, things had felt different—strained, like there was something his dad wasn’t telling him.

Earlier that day, Johnny Sr. had sent him a cryptic message: We need to talk. Meet me at the apartment tonight. Alone.

As soon as Johnny Jr. walked in, he could feel the weight of the conversation that was about to unfold. His father was sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at his hands. The usual easy-going, confident demeanor Johnny Sr. carried was gone. Something about his posture, his eyes, looked heavier, more serious.

“Dad, what’s going on?” Johnny Jr. asked, trying to break the silence.

Johnny Sr. looked up, his face worn with an emotion Johnny Jr. had rarely seen—uncertainty. “Johnny, I need to tell you something. Something I should’ve told you a long time ago.”

Johnny Jr. sat down, suddenly nervous. “What is it?”

Johnny Sr. took a deep breath. “I’m not your real father.”

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud. Johnny Jr. blinked, trying to make sense of what he’d just heard. “What? What are you talking about?”

“I’m not your biological dad,” Johnny Sr. said quietly, avoiding eye contact. “I found you. I… I raised you as my own, but I’m not your real father.”

Johnny Jr. felt his heart race, a mix of confusion and disbelief. “What do you mean you found me?”

Johnny Sr. sighed deeply, finally meeting his son’s eyes. “It was a long time ago, Johnny. You were just a baby. I was 5 years old, walking through the streets with my friends, and I found you—wrapped in a blanket, lying in an alley. You were crying, hungry, abandoned.”

Johnny Jr. could barely process the words. “I was abandoned?”

Johnny Sr. nodded, his voice cracking with emotion. “Yeah. I don’t know who your real parents are. But something inside me—this instinct—told me to pick you up and take care of you. I was just a kid, man. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I couldn’t just leave you there.”

Tears welled up in Johnny Jr.’s eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you lie?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you, Johnny,” Johnny Sr. said, his voice thick with regret. “At first, I didn’t plan on keeping you. I was going to take you to the police or an orphanage, but… I couldn’t do it. My parents, they were strict, never would have approved of me bringing a baby home. So I kept you hidden. I took care of you in secret, raised you, fed you. I snuck around, brought you food, clothes—whatever you needed.”

Johnny Jr. sat there, stunned. “How did you do it without them finding out?”

“It wasn’t easy,” Johnny Sr. admitted. “I had to get creative. I hid you in a neighbor’s shed for the first couple of months, visiting whenever I could. As I got older, I found places to keep you safe. I even managed to convince my parents we were doing ‘volunteer work’ when I took you places. Eventually, when I was old enough to live on my own, I got us out of there.”

Johnny Jr. ran his hands through his hair, still trying to wrap his mind around the story. “So… everything I know… everything you told me…”

“It was all real,” Johnny Sr. said quickly. “I raised you because I wanted to. I wasn’t just some random guy doing a good deed. You’re my son, Johnny. I made sure you were safe, that you had a life, a future. And I did everything I could to be the dad you deserved.”

“But why hide it from me all these years?” Johnny Jr. asked, the pain of being kept in the dark hitting him.

Johnny Sr. rubbed his face, guilt written all over him. “I was scared. I thought… if you knew the truth, you might feel different, like we weren’t really family. And I couldn’t lose you. I’ve loved you as my son from day one, and I didn’t want anything to change that. But I should’ve told you sooner.”

Johnny Jr. sat quietly for a long time, staring down at his hands. “So… I don’t even know where I came from. I don’t know anything about myself.”

Johnny Sr. leaned forward, his voice soft but firm. “You know everything that matters. You’re my son, Johnny. You’re the one I raised, the one I taught to shoot hoops, the one I pushed to be great. You’re the Jr. Joker because of everything we’ve been through together.”

Johnny Jr. wiped his eyes, trying to push away the flood of emotions. “This is crazy. I don’t even know how to feel.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Johnny Sr. said. “But I didn’t raise you to be someone else’s kid. You’re my family, no matter what. And nothing about that changes now.”

Johnny Jr. looked up, meeting his dad’s eyes. “So, what now? What do we do?”

Johnny Sr. smiled weakly. “We move forward. We’ve always been in this together, and now we’re teammates, too. That’s not going to change. But I wanted you to know the truth, so you didn’t have to keep wondering or feeling like something was missing. You’ve got everything you need right here—with me, with our team, with your future.”

Johnny Jr. nodded slowly, still processing, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. The man who had raised him might not have been his biological father, but he was the only dad he’d ever known. And that bond was real, stronger than any secret.

“Thanks, Dad,” Johnny Jr. said quietly.

Johnny Sr. smiled, the tension finally lifting. “I love you, son. Now let’s get to work—we’ve got a season ahead of us, and the Juzang name’s about to make some noise in this league.”