From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 433: Visiting The Label

The week didn’t slow anything down.

If anything, it made things louder.

By the time the next few days rolled into each other, what had started as a question had turned into something else entirely. It wasn’t people asking anymore. It was people talking like they already knew the answer. Headlines weren’t careful. They weren’t balanced. They leaned one way and stayed there, repeating the same angle until it started to feel like fact.

Dayo saw none of it that morning.

He was already out before most of the noise peaked, moving through his routine like nothing had shifted. Training had taken priority again, the kind that left no room for distractions, no space for checking phones or scrolling through whatever the world had decided to say about him that day.

It only caught up to him later.

The car slowed as it approached the building with a huge JD in gold on it.

From the inside, it looked normal at first. Just another day, another stop. Then the movement outside sharpened. Too many people gathered in one place, too many cameras angled toward a single point.

Before the driver could even fully stop, the first flash went off.

Dayo leaned back slightly in his seat, not reacting, just observing as more cameras lifted, more bodies pressed forward. Voices followed almost immediately, overlapping, rising over each other in a way that made it hard to separate one question from the next.

"Dayo! Over here—"

"Is it true you left Nigeria because things didn’t go your way?"

"Did you use Nigeria for publicity?"

"Why haven’t you released an English album in years?"

"Are you avoiding your main audience?"

Another voice cut through sharper than the rest.

"Are you falling off?"

The driver glanced back briefly, waiting for a cue.

Dayo didn’t rush. He didn’t sigh. He didn’t react the way they expected. He just opened the door when it was time and stepped out like the noise didn’t belong to him.

The questions hit harder outside.

"Dayo, say something!"

"Your fans deserve an explanation!"

"Are the labels blocking you?"

"Did you leave because you couldn’t compete?"

Someone moved closer than they should have. Security stepped in immediately, creating space, pushing bodies back just enough to open a path. It wasn’t aggressive, but it was firm enough to break the line forming around him.

Dayo walked through it without stopping.

Not a word.

Not a glance.

Just movement.

The doors shut behind him, and the noise cut off almost instantly, like someone had pulled a plug.

Inside, everything returned to normal.

Cool air. Controlled lighting. Quiet.

He pause bit in the lobby as many of his staff came to greet him to which he smiled and took his time to respond to them he waved at Sharon who understoof snd started sharing the soveniers he brought from Nigeria after a while He walked until he reached the studio level, pushing the door open with the same steady pace he’d carried through the chaos outside.

The shift was immediate.

Sound replaced silence, but it was the right kind. Beats looping, layered, breaking apart, coming back together again. The rhythm wasn’t clean yet, but it had direction.

Wayne was at the console, leaning forward, replaying a section while one of the producers stood beside him, listening with his head tilted slightly, catching details most people would miss. The second producer sat further back, tapping his fingers against his knee in time with the rhythm, already hearing what needed to change.

They didn’t notice Dayo at first.

He stayed by the door for a moment, watching.

The track rolled again.

Wayne stopped it halfway. "No, no, the bounce is off. It’s close, but it’s not sitting right."

"It’s the swing," one of the producers said, stepping closer. "You’re forcing it. Let it breathe small."

Wayne frowned slightly. "I’m not forcing it."

"You are," the second producer cut in, standing now. "You’re placing it like a straight pattern. That’s why it feels tight."

Wayne leaned back, thinking, then nodded slowly. "So loosen the timing?"

"Not loose. Just... don’t make it too tight. Let it flow you know Afrobeats in the sense is different."

Dayo smiled slightly, pushing off the door and stepping fully into the room.

That’s when they saw him.

Wayne turned first. "You’re here."

"Yeah," Dayo said, walking in. "How far?"

One of the producers shook his head, half laughing. "We’re arguing more than working at this point."

"That’s part of the work," Dayo replied easily. "Let me hear it."

Wayne played the track again from the top.

It ran smoother this time, but not perfect. The rhythm had shape, the direction was there, but something still sat slightly off underneath it.

Dayo listened without interrupting.

When it stopped, he nodded once. "You’re both right."

Wayne looked at him. "That doesn’t help."

"It does," Dayo said calmly with a smile. "You’re pushing structure. They’re pushing feel. You need both."

One of the producers pointed lightly. "Exactly."

Wayne exhaled, then leaned forward again. "Alright, show me."

They went back into it.

This time slower. Breaking it down piece by piece, adjusting small things that changed everything when they came together again. The room shifted with it. Less arguing, more understanding. Less forcing, more listening.

Time moved without anyone tracking it.

By the time they stepped back again, the difference was obvious.

The beat carried weight now. Not heavy, but grounded. It moved the way it was supposed to, not stiff, not overcorrected. Just right enough to build on.

Wayne leaned back, a grin breaking through a feeling of fulfilment that he learnt something. "Okay... yeah. That’s it."

One of the producers nodded, satisfied. "Now you’re hearing it."

The other laughed. "Told you."

Wayne shook his head, still smiling. "I’m not arguing with you again."

"You will," Dayo said, already turning toward the door. "That’s how this works."

Wayne looked at him. "You leaving already?"

"For now," Dayo replied. "Keep going."

One of the producers called after him. "You sure we’re not cheating you with this money?"

Dayo didn’t even slow. "You’ll earn it. Don’t overthink it you’re all masters of your field. With your knowledge you could make anything."

They laughed, the energy in the room lighter now, more settled.

He stepped out without waiting for more.

The hallway was quiet again.

Different from outside. Different from the studio. Just a space in between.

By the time he reached the car again, the reporters had thinned, but not completely. A few still lingered, watching, waiting for another chance.

They didn’t get one.

He got in. The door shut. The car pulled away.

No words.

The next stop felt different before he even stepped inside.

No cameras. No crowd. Just a door he didn’t need to knock on.

He pushed it open and stepped in like he’d been there a hundred times.

Three faces turned toward him almost immediately.

And none of them looked happy.

Valarey folded her arms first. "So you remember where this place is."

Urich shook his head slowly. "This guy."

Alice didn’t say anything.

She just looked at him.

Dayo closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a second like he had all the time in the world. "I was wondering how long it would take before you all started acting like this."

Valarey didn’t move. "Acting like what?"

"Like I disappeared," he said.

"You did," Urich cut in. "You came back and vanished again not even coming to say Hi. That’s worse."

Dayo pushed off the door, walking further into the room. "I’ve been training."

Valarey scoffed lightly. "Training? That’s your excuse?"

"It’s not an excuse," he said. "It’s what I’ve been doing."

Alice finally spoke, her voice quieter but sharper. "You couldn’t say that?"

Dayo looked at her properly then.

There was something there. Not anger exactly. Something tighter. Something that didn’t need to be loud to be felt.

"I’m saying it now," he replied.

Urich waved a hand. "No, no, forget that. What’s actually going on? Because this thing outside is getting crazy."

Valarey nodded. "We’ve seen everything. Nigeria, now here. It’s not small anymore."

Dayo moved to sit, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. "Yeah. I know."

Alice watched him. "So?"

"So nothing," he said simply. "It’s noise from Michael."

Valarey frowned. "When its has to do with Michael we can all agree it doesn’t look like noise."

"It is," Dayo replied. "Just louder."

Urich leaned back. "You’re too calm about this."

Dayo glanced at him. "You want me to panic?"

"No," Urich said quickly. "But at least react."

"I am reacting," Dayo said. "Just not the way you expect."

Valarey tilted her head. "Explain." 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

He didn’t hesitate.

"They’re pushing a narrative," he said. "That I used Nigeria, that I left for hype, that I’ve been avoiding the U.S. market, that I’m not releasing anything here."

Alice crossed her arms slightly. "And?"

"And it helps them," he continued. "If that sticks, it makes it harder for me to move back into that space the way I want."

Urich nodded slowly. "So what do you do?"

"Nothing," Dayo said.

Valarey stared at him. "That can’t be the plan."

"It is," he replied.

Alice shook her head slightly. "That doesn’t make sense."

Dayo looked at her again. "It does."

He leaned back this time, more relaxed.

"The more they talk, the more attention it brings. My work hasn’t failed me before. It won’t start now."

Valarey frowned. "You’re just going to let them say anything?"

"I’m letting them talk," he said. "There’s a difference."

Urich let out a low breath. "You’re too confident."

Dayo smiled faintly. "I know what I’m doing."

Alice didn’t respond immediately.

She just held his gaze for a second longer than necessary, then looked away.

"Fine," she said quietly. "Just don’t act like it doesn’t affect anything."

Dayo didn’t push that.

He nodded once. "I know."

The tension didn’t disappear, but it shifted.

Urich stood up, stretching. "Alright, enough serious talk. You owe us time."

Valarey pointed at him. "Exactly. You don’t just show up and leave again."

Dayo laughed softly. "I just got here."

"And you’ll leave again," she shot back.

"Eventually," he admitted.

Alice glanced at him again, then away.

The room loosened after that.

Small conversations, jokes, familiar rhythms slipping back into place. It wasn’t heavy anymore, but something remained under the surface, quiet, waiting.

By the time he stood to leave again, no one tried to stop him.

Valarey just shook her head. "Don’t disappear again."

"I won’t," he said.

Urich smirked. "We’ll see."

Alice didn’t say anything.

She just watched him go.

Outside, the air felt cooler.

Quieter.

Different from earlier.

Dayo got into the car, settling back as the door closed behind him.

For the first time that day, he reached for his phone.

The screen lit up.

Headlines.

Posts.

Comments.

All of it still moving.

Still loud.

He scrolled once.

Then locked it.

Leaning his head back, eyes closing for a moment, not in exhaustion, not in stress, just... still.

The world could keep talking.

He had other things to do.