After their time on the beach, Dayo and Luna went straight back to their hotel to rest. Their short vacation was almost over, and tomorrow they would be returning to reality.

While they rested, the Morocco Internet went wild. The video of Dayo singing in Arabic had been posted by someone at the beach, and within hours it spread like wildfire.

The comment section was flooded with reactions, most people in disbelief.

"OMG, wait, is this guy not black? How the hell is he singing in our language so fluently?"

"Bruh, I've watched this video like 20 times. I still can't come with terms as how he pulled this off."

"Nahhh, this gotta be AI. Look at him—look at the voice. This doesn't even feel real."

"Brother, use your brain. AI can't catch emotions like this, nor the way his lips and breath move. This is pure human talent."

"Why are you even explaining? Some people just don't have sense, wallahi."

"Am I the only one who hasn't heard this song before? I even tried Shazam—nothing came up."

"Same here. Shazam gave me no results. This seems to be an original."

"Original AND fire. Bro just casually cooked a masterpiece on the beach. Levels!"

"I can't wait for the release, someone should tag him."

"Wait, wait, pause—why does this guy look familiar? I swear I've seen him somewhere."

"Yeah, you're right. I can't place it either, but this face… it's ringing bells."

"Hold up—wasn't he the one at the World Cup opening ceremony? The one that sang with Luna?"

"Yessss, JD! That's his name! JD!"

"OMG, it's really him. JD! From America, singing in Arabic like he grew up here?"

"Nahhh this is too much. My respect just went up x100."

"Facts. This guy isn't normal. He's different. We need him on stage in Morocco ASAP."

"Look at the way he sang in Arabic, my gosh."

"JD a freak! First the World Cup, now this? Who does it like him?!"

By the time the video hit 100k views, the comment section was a battlefield of hype, shock, and praise about JD.

***

The next morning, Dayo and Luna woke early and headed to the airport. Just as they were checking in, Dayo's phone buzzed—it was Valery.

"Dayo, where did you keep your phone? I was almost about to call the Morocco police to file a missing complaint!"

Hearing this, Dayo smiled helplessly. He had already sent Valery a message saying he might not be reachable since he planned to rest, so her worry made him shake his head.

"Relax, Valery. I sent you a text that I wouldn't be reachable. Why the sudden urgency?"

"Well… it's Lois," Valery said.

Dayo frowned. "Yeah? What about her?"

"She didn't take the news of her album being scheduled for next month very well," Valery admitted, before explaining how Lois stormed out of the office.

Dayo's thoughts burned with frustration, anger rising within him. He tried to calm himself, but it wasn't working. Only when Luna waved from the front, signaling that it was their turn at the counter, did he refocus.

"Hmm… no problem. I'll address this when I arrive. I'm at the airport now."

"Alright. Safe trip," Valery replied.

***

On the plane, Dayo sat quietly, staring out the window. His face was gloomy, though he tried to mask it. Luna noticed.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly.

"Nothing really," he muttered, though the heaviness in his tone betrayed him.

Luna touched his hand gently. "Don't do that. You don't have to keep it in all the time."

Before Dayo could answer, one of the flight attendants, a young Moroccan woman was, passing by sharing refreshment. She glanced at them, froze, and her eyes widened.

She covered her mouth, whispering in Arabic, "Ya Allah… it's really them."

Luna tilted her head. "I think she recognized you," she said with a small smile.

Isava quickly pulled out her phone, scrolled, and then turned the screen toward them. It was the viral video of Dayo singing in Arabic on the beach. She looked back at him, almost trembling.

"It's you… wallahi, it's you," she said breathlessly, switching between Arabic and English. "Please… can I take a picture? And an autograph?"

Dayo chuckled lightly, nodding. "Of course."

She snapped a photo with him, withw excitement written all over face . After thanking him repeatedly, she hurried off to continue her duties, her smile refusing to fade.

When she was gone, Luna leaned back in her seat and looked at Dayo with a playful smirk. "See? My man is too handsome. Even in the sky, you're still causing a scene."

Dayo laughed for the first time that morning, the weight on his chest easing just a little.

***

The next day, after arriving, Dayo didn't rest. He told Valery to inform Lois to meet him at his office, and he went to the label early that morning.

While outside the office, Lois and her agent Clara walked through the building toward him. People at the label gave them odd glances.

Lois snickered and smiled, enjoying the attention, strutting like a queen.

Before they reached the door, Clara stopped her. "Lois, as your agent, I'll say this again—don't count your eggs before they hatch. Just because Dayo didn't say anything last time doesn't mean he's weak. He's better off as your ally than your enemy. You're still under him, so don't say anything offensive."

Lois shrugged. "Clara, you're being too careful. There's nothing he can do now that the album is complete. He'll have to tread carefully with me."

Clara sighed. "Aren't you worried he could make things hard for you?"

"Hmph, he can't," Lois said smugly. She opened the door to find Dayo sitting calm and composed. A part of her heart skipped a beat.

Dayo sat at his desk, expression steady. Lois stepped in with her head high, but when their eyes met, she had a quick flashback of memory—she once confessed her feelings for him, only to be ignored. That rejection had fueled the attitude she carried now.

"Have your seat," Dayo said evenly.

Clara moved to sit, but Dayo shook his head.

"Not you. Just Lois. Excuse us."

Clara shifted uneasily. "She's my client, I can't just—"

Dayo's tone dropped, cold and firm. "And I'm her boss. Excuse us."

That was enough. Clara left, shutting the door behind her. Silence filled the office.

Lois leaned back, crossing her legs with a fake smile. "So, what's this? You drag me in here to lecture me?"

Dayo didn't answer immediately. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on her. "Was it because of that day?"

Lois blinked. "What day?"

"The day you told me how you felt," Dayo said, his voice calm but unflinching. "And I ignored it. Is that where all this sudden arrogance comes from? You think I brushed you off because you weren't beautiful enough, or because I didn't respect your talent? Is that what's eating at you?"

Lois shifted in her seat, the fake confidence in her expression cracking for a moment. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Dayo replied, his tone sharper now. "And let me make something clear to you, Lois — this is not personal. I didn't respond back then because this," he gestured around the office, "is work. It's business. And I don't mix business with whatever feelings you think should be entertained."

Her lips tightened, the comeback she wanted to throw catching in her throat.

"But now," Dayo continued, standing slowly, his voice steady, "you've turned your bruised ego into a weapon. Walking around the label like you're untouchable because you finished recording an album. Thinking that because people look at you, they admire you. They don't. They're watching to see how long it takes before you collapse under your own attitude."

Lois swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the armrest.

"You're not bigger than the label. You're not bigger than me. Don't mistake my patience for weakness. If I decide tomorrow that your contract is over, it's over. No hesitation. Don't think I won't do it."

Her chest rose and fell faster, eyes darting to the floor before snapping back up at him, searching for any sign of leniency. She found none.

Finally, Dayo's voice cut through the tension, final and commanding.

"The album will be released as scheduled. No delays. No more tantrums. That's the end of this conversation. Now leave."

Lois stood slowly, her confidence drained. For the first time, she felt the full weight of who she was dealing with. She opened her mouth as if to reply, then closed it again, choosing silence. Without another word, she walked out of the office, her steps heavy, her pride bruised.

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