As Dayo walked onto the stage, the sound of the crowd hit him like a wave.

"JD! JD! JD!"

His name echoed from every corner of the arena, loud and steady.

He froze for a second. He wasn't expecting that.

People were waving light sticks and holding up small boards with his name written in bold colors — some even had his photo printed. It was overwhelming. For a moment, all the stress, all the sadness he'd been holding in, melted just a little.

He smiled. A small, tired smile, but a real one.

He looked around the massive arena, Capital One Arena. He had a few seconds of peace looking at everyone waving at him.

The host walked forward with a grin.

"JD! The crowd clearly loves you," he said over the mic. "How are you feeling tonight?"

Dayo took the mic slowly. "I'm… I'm grateful," he said. "It's been a long week, but seeing everyone here cheering me means a lot."

The host nodded. "We all heard the news. It must have been tough. Are you sure you're okay to perform?"

Dayo gave a small nod. "I am. Music helps me breathe. So tonight… I'll just do what I do best."

The crowd clapped softly, feeling the weight behind his words.

One of the judges leaned forward. "That's the spirit. So, what are you going to perform for us tonight?"

Dayo smiled faintly. "Something a little different," he said. "Something from the heart."

As he handed back the mic, his eyes wandered across the arena — and that's when he saw him.

Michael.

Sitting in the VIP section, calm as ever, watching him.

Their eyes met briefly. Michael's face didn't change, but Dayo could feel the tension between them — silent, sharp, unspoken.

Dayo looked away and took a deep breath.

The lights dimmed across the arena.

A soft guitar started to play, echoing gently through the massive hall.

Dayo stepped forward, the spotlight finding him at the center of the stage.

He gripped the mic with both hands, took a deep breath, and began.

[Verse 1]

"If you're reading this, my momma's sitting there

Looks like I only got a one-way ticket over here…"

His voice was low, heavy. Every word came out slowly, like it carried weight.

People could hear the emotion in his tone — the quiet pain of someone who'd lost someone important.

Even the stage lights stayed dim, matching the mood.

"Sure wish I could give you one more kiss

And war was just a game we played when we were kids…"

His voice cracked a little on that line.

He blinked hard, trying not to lose focus, but his chest felt tight.

The camera zoomed in — the audience could see the tears welling in his eyes, but he didn't stop.

[Pre-Chorus]

"I'm laying down my gun

I'm hanging up my boots…"

He looked up slightly, as if speaking to someone far away.

The lights shifted — a soft white glow from above, like daylight breaking through clouds.

"I'm up here with God and we're both watching over you…"

That line hit everyone in the hall.

Some people lowered their heads. A woman in the front row wiped her eyes quietly.

[Chorus]

"So lay me down

In that open field out on the edge of town

And know my soul…"

Dayo's voice grew stronger here — deeper, warmer.

He wasn't just singing anymore. It felt like he was talking to every family that had ever lost someone.

"…Is where my momma always prayed that it would go

And if you're reading this, I'm already home…"

When he sang "I'm already home," his voice dropped to a whisper.

The music slowed down slightly, and the crowd went still.

You could hear someone quietly sniffle somewhere in the audience.

[Verse 2]

"If you're reading this, halfway around the world

I won't be there to see the birth of our little girl…"

The background screen started to show gentle images — soldiers holding babies, waving goodbye, saluting.

Dayo's eyes stayed down, but his voice carried clearly.

"I hope she looks like you

I hope she fights like me…"

He smiled faintly through the pain — that small, broken kind of smile.

"Stand up for the innocent and the weak…"

He raised his head slightly and looked into the lights.

The tone in his voice changed — proud, strong. It felt like a message from every fallen soldier.

[Pre-Chorus]

"I'm laying down my gun

I'm hanging up my boots…"

This time, his voice shook a little.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply between lines.

"Tell dad I don't regret that I followed in his shoes…"

That one hit him hardest.

Everyone knew it — that was the line that reminded him of his uncle.

He swallowed hard and kept going.

[Chorus]

"So lay me down

In that open field out on the edge of town…"

He stretched the note longer this time. His voice filled the arena.

People were holding up their phones now, lights shining like stars across the crowd.

"And know my soul

Is where my momma always prayed that it would go

And if you're reading this, I'm already home…"

The last word came out softly, like a goodbye.

[Verse 3]

"If you're reading this, there's going to come a day

When you'll move on and find someone else, and that's okay…"

His tone became gentler here — calm, accepting.

It wasn't pain anymore. It was peace.

"Just remember this, I'm in a better place

Where soldiers live in peace and angels sing amazing grace…"

As he sang, the big screen behind him showed faces of real soldiers — their names, their ranks, their flags.

The audience gasped quietly when they saw Marcus Carter's name among them.

[Final Chorus]

"So lay me down

In that open field out on the edge of town…"

His voice soared now. It was pure, emotional, and strong — filled with everything he had left.

"And know my soul

Is where my momma always prayed that it would go

And if you're reading this…"

He slowed down.

Every note seemed to hang in the air.

"…I'm already home."

(A/N: inspiration from "If You're Reading This by Tim McGraw)

The music faded out.

The lights dimmed again until only one spotlight remained on him.

He stood there for a few seconds — eyes closed, mic still in hand.

Then silence.

No one spoke, no one moved.

Even the judges were frozen, moved beyond words.

Dayo finally opened his eyes, took a breath, and gave a small nod.

He didn't smile. He didn't bow. He just whispered,

"Thank you,"

and walked off the stage.

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