From A Producer To A Global Superstar

Chapter 68: The Group Stage Begins


After a long night's rest, the morning sun broke through the curtains of the Seoul hotel. Like clockwork, Dayo woke up early. His body was used to routine, and despite the exhaustion of travel, he slipped into his workout clothes. Push-ups, stretches, shadow boxing—it grounded him, cleared his head, and prepared him for the day.

When he finished, sweat glistening, he decided to take a short walk around the area. The cool breeze of Seoul's morning greeted him. The city was alive but calm—cafés opening, bicycles weaving past, the hum of buses and chatter of locals. He could understand the language, so the rhythm of life fascinated him.

Later, Min-Jae joined him. With a smile, he insisted on taking Dayo around to see some spots before the busy day ahead. They explored parts of the city near Myeongdong—bright shopping streets where K-pop songs blasted from speakers, food stalls lined with tteokbokki and hotteok. Then they passed by Cheonggyecheon Stream, where couples strolled along the clear water. Min-Jae pointed out places with casual pride, though he never mentioned visiting his family.

Dayo noticed. He wanted to ask, but the silence around that topic was heavy. He could sense that if Min-Jae had wanted to share, he would've suggested visiting them. So Dayo respected the boundary. Instead, he simply enjoyed the day with him, laughing as they tried street snacks and snapped photos with fans who recognized Min-Jae.

***

By evening, the contestants were gathered again. A sleek black bus pulled up, and one by one they filed inside. None of them knew the venue yet, but excitement buzzed through the air.

The bus finally stopped in front of the Jamsil Arena, one of Seoul's iconic concert venues. The arena lights blazed, and the sound of fans outside was deafening. Security guided the contestants through a side entrance. When they entered the main hall, the roar of the audience struck them—thousands of fans, waving banners, chanting names. This wasn't a pre-recording. The director had made it clear: tonight's announcement would be broadcast live to the world.

The host walked onstage, sharp in a suit, his voice echoing through the arena.

"Ladies and gentlemen, viewers around the world… it's time to unveil the top six performers chosen by the fans!"

The stage screens lit up, and the six names rolled out to thunderous cheers:

1. Dayo Jason — United States

2. Lucas Rivera — Brazil

3. Min-Jae Park — South Korea

4. Sophia Zhang — China

5. Amara Diop — Senegal

6. Matteo Rossi — Italy

The crowd erupted. The six called out were invited to the stage, standing under blinding spotlights. Dayo glanced to his right and caught Min-Jae's grin. They hugged quickly despite being rivals now. Even on different teams, they were proud of each other.

They stood six paces apart, cameras circling, while the remaining contestants waited on the opposite side of the stage. This was no longer a private taping—every second was being streamed live, comments flooding in from around the world.

The director stepped forward, calm and precise. "Each leader will now choose two teammates of their choice. After that, a third teammate will be chosen in the next round. Finally, a random card will assign one last member to each team. That makes six groups of five contestants. Each group must prepare one performance, in any language of their choice—but not only their native language. At least one live instrument must also be part of the stage. Remember, this round is about collaboration and cohesion."

Excitement and tension mixed in the air. Hashtags exploded across Twitter and TikTok feeds: #GlobalCompetitionLive, #Top6Leaders, #TeamDayo.

The director gestured toward Dayo. "You're up first."

Dayo already knew who he wanted. He stepped forward, his voice clear.

"My first pick is Emily Wilson."

Emily walked across the stage, her calm smile shining under the lights. She nodded at Dayo, a silent understanding passing between them. She had power in her voice and heart in her performance—qualities Dayo knew would be invaluable.

"My second pick is Maya."

Maya crossed the stage, giving Dayo a warm nod. Sharp, quick-witted, and a brilliant songwriter—she could craft lyrics around any theme. Dayo knew she'd be a backbone for the group.

The other leaders began making their picks. Lucas chose a vibrant guitarist, Min-Jae chose a polished vocalist, Sophia went for a skilled instrumentalist, Amara — Senegal

picked a powerhouse singer, and Matteo chose a pianist from Europe. Each choice narrowed the pool, tension mounting with every step.

When it came time for the third round, one of the names Dayo had initially hoped for was gone. He scanned the faces of those left and made his decision.

"My third pick is Tyrell."

The audience clapped as Tyrell joined. Dayo's reasoning was simple—group songs needed rhythm, and Tyrell's skill on drums made him the best candidate in the competition for that role.

With three secured, Dayo stepped back. Now came the part no one could control.

The director announced the random card draw. A box was brought out, sealed envelopes inside. The remaining contestants looked visibly nervous—nobody liked being left unchosen, but fate was about to decide.

Dayo reached in, unfolded his card slowly under the spotlight. His face twitched, just for a second. He masked it quickly, but the cameras caught the faint change.

The name was revealed: "Frank."

The arena reacted instantly. A mix of cheers, hisses, and uneasy murmurs rippled through the crowd. Frank's reputation was already brewing—clips of his arrogance backstage had gone viral. To some, he was a villain; to others, he was simply confident.

Frank walked forward, his jaw tight, his eyes avoiding Dayo. He didn't like this arrangement, and the tension was obvious. The crowd picked up on it. Online, the comments exploded:

"Dayo and Frank on the same team? This is going to blow up."

"Bro, Frank looks like he's ready to kill someone."

"Who thought putting them together was a good idea?"

"Ah my poor Dayo why did he have to pick this arrogant F*Ck"

Onstage, Maya's eyes flickered toward Dayo. She knew. She had been there during the plane ride when Dayo and Frank clashed. Her look was sharp but silent: This won't be easy.

Dayo gave her a small nod. We'll deal with it later.

The director raised his hand for silence. "Your instructions are clear. Choose your language, choose your concept, and remember: unity is as important as talent. This stage will test whether you can truly perform as one."

The six leaders nodded. The crowd roared as cameras cut to live feeds of fans voting, arguing, and predicting outcomes.

As Dayo and his team left the stage toward their assigned studio, he exhaled deeply. He glanced at Frank, who kept his arms folded, face cold. Emily and Maya whispered quietly, already thinking ahead. Tyrell carried the look of someone eager to prove himself.

Dayo muttered under his breath as they stepped into their practice room:

"No one said this was going to be easy…"

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