CHAPTER 118: REACTION TO ALBUM (1)

While Dayo and his friends and colleagues went to dine after lunch, the reactions from others varied.

Across in another place, Vivian sat across from Phillip, sipping her drink at home, relaxing. He was already halfway through his plate, talking nonstop like always.

"So," Vivian said, resting her chin on her palm, "you’ve heard about Dayo’s new album, right? It drops tonight."

Phillip rolled his eyes and gave a dry laugh. "Heard? Everyone won’t stop talking about it. But honestly? It’s going to flop."

Vivian frowned a little. "Flop? Why are you so sure?"

He leaned back in his chair with a smug look on his face. "Because, come on, Viv. He made that album in what—two weeks? No serious artist does that. I’ve seen rushed projects before, and this one seems destined for disaster. The hype and snippet are just stunning, the actual would be trash."

"It wouldn’t even enter the billboard." He added.

Vivian tilted her head. "You sound pretty confident."

"I am," Phillip said with a grin. "So confident that I even placed a bet online. Ten thousand dollars says that album crashes before the weekend."

Vivian almost choked on her drink. "You bet ten thousand?"

"Yeah," he said proudly. "Easy money to be made, even though it’s not much. Experts have already analyzed the rollout. No major features, it’s bound to fail."

Vivian didn’t argue. She just forced a smile, but inside, something felt off. She’d seen how Dayo had changed—how he went from having a condition of not being able to sing to singing amazingly in the Global Competition. He was no longer the same person she used to know. Every move he made since his comeback had been precise. Still, she didn’t argue. She just sat there, listening.

Phillip glanced at his phone and laughed sarcastically. "Oh, look, it’s live now. Let’s hear this ’masterpiece.’"

He saw the first track that made his eyes almost drop out Say Something (with Luna).

Seeing Luna’s name, he felt shocked cause Dayo didn’t put it out that he was featuring her. He was already having a bad feeling, but he pressed play. The first track. The beat kicked in—clean, full, emotional. And it was amazing.

He made a silent prayer that the rest should be crap.

The second track followed, then the third.

By the time the third song ended, Phillip wasn’t laughing anymore. He just sat there, his jaw tight.

"Not bad, huh?" Vivian said quietly.

He scoffed. "Eh, it’s okay. Still overhyped."

But even he knew he’d lost that bet. The songs were too good—well-written, well-produced.

He muttered something under his breath, "How could he record such master masterpiece in a few weeks? This doesn’t make any sense at all."

He grumbled and walked outside.

When he was gone, Vivian stayed behind, earphones in, listening to the album again from the start. Each track hits differently now. The sound, the emotion, the growth—it was pure Dayo.

She didn’t move. She just sat there, listening as the songs played one after another.

Her chest ached so much she hated the feeling she was having, which was regret that she could have been with Dayo, and when she remembered that she was out of the music industry, all of a sudden she felt angry again. She just dropped the song and walked out.

***

Meanwhile, across town, Lois sat alone in her apartment. She had seen all the buzz online — Dayo’s album was everywhere. Against her own pride, she opened her phone and clicked Play.

The first song she chose was Someone You Loved (with Elara). The moment it started, she froze. The mix, the emotion, the chemistry — it was the kind of song she used to dream about recording with him, after all, she liked him.

Her fingers tightened around her phone."This... this could’ve been me," she muttered under her breath. Every word, every harmony hit harder the longer she listened.

Her chest tightened. She replayed it again, this time listening closely to the lyrics. The lines hit deep.

She let out a bitter laugh. "I feel so foolish now."

Lois stared at the screen for a long moment, then locked her phone and tossed it aside.

Her apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

She thought about how different things could’ve been if she had stayed at JD. Maybe she would have been the one on that track. Perhaps she would have been trending right now.

But that wasn’t her reality anymore.

MM Records had her locked down. No interviews, no live sessions, no direct contact with fans. Every post went through management. They said it was for her "brand protection," but she knew what it really was—control.

Her own label had turned her into a product they could move around whenever they wanted.

And as much as she wanted to fight back, she couldn’t.

She leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind spinning between anger, regret, and guilt.

For the first time, she admitted it to herself—

She missed JD Records.

She missed the freedom.

And most of all, she missed Dayo.

****

Inside the glass-walled office of MM Records, the hum of the city filtered faintly through the tinted windows.

Michael sat behind his wide desk, typing quietly, his focus sharp as always.

The door opened.

Clara, his assistant, stepped in carefully, a tablet in her hand.

"Sir," she said. "Dayo’s album just dropped. It’s live everywhere."

Michael didn’t look up. "Hmm." His voice was calm, uninterested. "And?"

"Well... people are already talking about it online. It’s trending."

He sighed, still staring at his screen. "Of course it is. Everything that boy does trends for a week."

Clara hesitated. "Should I... play it?"

"Go ahead," he said, without looking up.

She tapped her tablet. The room filled with the soft, emotional melody of "Say Something" — Dayo and Luna’s duet.

At first, Michael didn’t react. His hands kept typing, then slowly stopped. His fingers froze on the keyboard.

He leaned back slightly, his brows knitting.

He was already caught off guard hearing Luna in the song, which Dayo didn’t put out, and he knew the reason. He muttered, "Smart."

"Next," he said quietly.

Clara skipped to the next track — "All of Me" featuring Rex. The vocals poured through the speakers, rich and full.

He looked up this time. His expression changed. For a long moment, he said nothing.

"Next," he muttered again.

She played the third one — "Someone You Loved" with Elara.

By the middle of the song, Michael’s jaw had tightened. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the wall, his eyes distant.

When the track ended, the room was silent.