Chapter 449 449: Hold On-
The beat was already running when Dayo stepped in.
Low. Controlled. Clean drums sitting under a melody that felt almost finished, like it was waiting for him to step into it and complete the thought. Wayne had it looping, head slightly tilted, fingers tapping against the console in quiet rhythm.
Jinad and Tunde were at the side table, going through notes, murmuring to each other in low Yoruba, pausing every now and then to listen closer to a section of the track.
Sharon stood near the glass, phone in hand, already halfway into something else, but her attention shifted the moment Dayo walked in.
"Alright," Wayne said without looking up. "We're ready."
Dayo nodded once. Dropped his bag. Walked in slow.
The sound filled the room.
He stood there for a few seconds. Just listening.
Or at least—it looked like listening.
His head moved slightly with the rhythm. His face gave nothing away. But the longer he stood there, the more it became clear—he wasn't inside the music.
Not fully.
Something lagged behind.
Wayne glanced up now. "You good?"
Dayo didn't answer immediately. He took a step closer to the console. Let the track run another loop.
Another.
Then he lifted a hand slightly.
"Hold on."
The beat cut clean.
The silence that followed wasn't awkward. Just… unexpected.
Jinad looked up. Tunde leaned back slightly in his chair. Sharon lowered her phone.
Wayne turned fully this time. "What's up?"
Dayo exhaled once. Slow.
"We're not recording yet."
A small pause.
Wayne's brows pulled together slightly. Not disagreement. Just recalculating.
"We're set, though," he said. "Structure's clean. We can lay something down and build from there."
"I know," Dayo said.
His voice stayed even. Controlled.
"I just don't want to start something halfway."
Tunde nodded slightly at that, like he understood the logic. Jinad didn't say anything, but his eyes stayed on Dayo, watching closer now.
Dayo rested his hand on the edge of the table, fingers pressing lightly against the wood.
"Let's pause this," he added. "Properly."
Wayne leaned back, studying him for a second longer than usual.
"Alright," he said finally. "So what's the move?"
Dayo didn't hesitate.
"Boardroom."
Sharon's head tilted slightly. "Now?"
"Yeah."
He looked at her.
"Call Valerie. Ulrich. Alice. Everyone."
A beat.
Sharon held his gaze for half a second. Something passed between them—quick, unspoken.
Then she nodded understanding that Dayo knew he wasn't in the right state of mind to actually record which was why he wanted to do this now.
"I'll get them."
She was already moving before anyone else reacted.
The room shifted.
Not chaotic. Not confused. Just… redirected.
Wayne turned in his chair, resting his elbow against the console. "This about the songs?"
"Yeah," Dayo said.
It wasn't a lie.
Just not the whole truth.
—
Ten minutes later, the boardroom filled in layers.
Chairs pulled back. Quiet greetings. Papers sliding across the table. Phones set face-down.
Valerie came in first, sharp as always, already scanning faces, reading energy. Ulrich followed, slower, observant, taking his seat without a word. Alice came in last, adjusting her sleeve, eyes flicking briefly to Dayo before she sat.
Wayne took a seat near the middle. Jinad and Tunde sat side by side, a little more reserved here than in the studio.
Sharon stood near the wall at first, then moved to sit just slightly off from Dayo's right.
Everyone settled.
No one rushed him.
Dayo didn't speak immediately.
He let the room quiet fully.
Then he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table.
"I'll keep this simple."
No buildup.
No performance.
"Most of you already know what's happening in Nigeria."
A few nods.
No interruptions.
"Michael's been pushing things. Blocking access. Making it harder for people to work with me over there."
He said it like a report.
Not like a complaint.
Valerie crossed one leg over the other, eyes steady. "We've seen the patterns."
Ulrich added quietly, "It's subtle. But consistent."
Dayo nodded once.
"We've managed it so far. Outside Nigeria, it doesn't really hold."
A pause.
"But inside, it's enough."
Silence again.
Not heavy. Just focused.
Dayo shifted slightly in his seat.
"So instead of working around it…" he said, voice steady, "we stop working around it."
That got attention.
Wayne's posture straightened a little. Alice leaned in just slightly. Even Tunde glanced up quicker this time.
Dayo's gaze moved across the table.
"We build our own."
The words landed clean.
No drama. No emphasis.
Just direction.
Valerie's fingers tapped once against the table. "Define that."
Dayo didn't hesitate.
"A label."
Small shift in the room.
"Based in Nigeria," he continued. "Independent structure. Controlled internally."
Ulrich nodded slowly. "You're talking full operation or development branch?"
"Both," Dayo said. "Start with development. Build into full."
Wayne let out a quiet breath through his nose. Not skepticism. Just processing.
"And the artists?" he asked. "Because that's where the block hits."
Dayo's jaw tightened slightly.
"We don't chase artists."
A pause.
"We create them."
That one settled deeper.
Jinad glanced at Tunde briefly. Tunde's lips pressed together, then eased.
Alice leaned back now, studying him. "You're building from scratch."
"Yes."
No hesitation.
Valerie nodded slowly. "Then you control the pipeline."
"Exactly."
Silence again.
Then Jinad spoke up, voice measured.
"If we're building from scratch… we need raw talent. Not just names."
Dayo looked at him. "That's the plan."
Tunde leaned forward slightly now. "Then we can't make it public."
All eyes shifted.
He continued, a little more confident now.
"If it's public, industry will interfere. People will start influencing who gets in, who doesn't."
Wayne nodded. "He's right."
Dayo's gaze stayed on Tunde. "So what do you suggest?"
Tunde glanced at Jinad briefly, then back.
"Keep it local. Private."
Jinad picked up from there.
"Small competition," he said. "But controlled. Not broadcast. Not online."
"Invite submissions," Tunde added. "Or hold sessions in selected spaces. Filter before anyone even gets seen."
Valerie nodded slowly. "So we control entry and exposure."
"Yes," Dayo said.
The structure was already forming.
Wayne tapped his fingers against the table. "You'll still need someone on ground you trust."
Dayo's mind flickered for a second.
Then—
"Sheun."
The name came out without effort.
Jinad nodded immediately as he knew who sheun is after all it would be impossible to say h3 doesnt. "That works."
Tunde added, "He knows the environment. And you trust him."
Sharon finally spoke, voice calm.
"He can handle recordings. Initial screening. Logistics."
Dayo nodded.
"Keep it tight," he said. "No leaks. No noise."
Ulrich leaned back slightly. "And once you find the right ones?"
"They come here," Dayo said. "Or we set up a secondary studio there."
Valerie's eyes sharpened slightly. "You're moving fast."
"I don't have time to move slow," Dayo replied.
No edge.
Just fact.
A quiet understanding moved through the room.
Wayne leaned forward now, elbows on the table.
"The songs," he said. "You're doing this because of them too."
Dayo met his gaze.
"They're not solo records."
No one argued that.
Jinad nodded. "We all heard it."
Tunde added, "They'll hit. But they'll hit harder with the right voices."
Dayo exhaled slowly.
"Exactly."
A small pause.
Then he shifted slightly, looking between Jinad and Tunde.
"You two."
They straightened without meaning to.
"You'll run it."
Silence.
Real silence this time.
Jinad blinked once. Tunde sat back slightly, like he wasn't sure he heard right.
"Run… what exactly?" Tunde asked carefully.
"The Nigeria arm," Dayo said. "Production. Talent development. Selection process."
Jinad let out a breath, quiet but heavy.
"Are you serious?"
Dayo held his gaze. "I don't say things I don't mean."
Another pause.
Tunde's hands came together loosely, fingers interlocking, then releasing.
"That's… a lot," he said.
"It is."
No reassurance.
No softening.
Just truth.
Jinad nodded slowly. "We can do it."
Not loud. Not emotional.
Just steady.
Tunde followed with a small nod. "We won't mess it up."
Wayne let out a quiet chuckle. "You won't. Not if you keep your heads right."
Jinad glanced at him. "We learned from you."
Wayne waved it off lightly. "Yeah, yeah. Don't start."
A small shift in the room. Lighter, just for a second.
Then Dayo leaned back slightly.
"Sharon handles coordination," he said. "Sheun handles ground execution. You two handle production and selection."
Valerie added, "I'll oversee legal structure for the label."
Ulrich nodded. "I'll handle financial setup."
Alice finally spoke again. "And branding?"
Dayo glanced at her. "Keep it quiet for now."
She nodded. "Understood."
Everything was moving.
Clean. Structured. Controlled.
Dayo felt it settling into place.
Something solid.
Something he could hold.
He paused for just a second.
Barely noticeable.
Sharon saw it.
No one else did.
Then he continued.
"I'll also be scouting myself," he said. "Online. Direct submissions. If I find someone, I send details."
Jinad nodded. "We'll be ready."
Tunde added, "We'll set criteria first. So we don't waste time."
Wayne leaned back. "Good. Because once this starts, it moves fast."
Dayo nodded.
"That's the point."
The room settled again.
Not tense.
Just… aligned.
He looked around once more.
"Any issues?"
No one spoke.
Not because there weren't questions.
But because the direction was clear.
Valerie gave a small nod. "It works."
Ulrich added, "It's aggressive. But it works."
Wayne shrugged lightly. "I'm in."
Jinad and Tunde both nodded again. No hesitation this time.
Sharon didn't say anything.
She didn't need to.
Dayo leaned back slightly.
"Alright."
The meeting broke naturally after that.
Chairs moved. Conversations started in low tones. Phones came back up.
Plans were already forming in pieces.
People moved with purpose.
Dayo stayed seated for a second longer than everyone else.
Just a second.
Then he stood.
The room emptied gradually.
Voices fading.
Doors opening. Closing.
And then—
Quiet again.
He remained standing there, one hand resting on the back of his chair.
Everything had moved.
Everything had progressed.
A label.
A system.
A solution.
He had taken a problem and built something out of it.
Control.
Clean. Precise.
Exactly how he operated.
His fingers tapped once against the chair.
Then stilled.
Because underneath all of it—
Nothing had changed.
Not where it mattered.
The question was still there.
Waiting.
Unanswered.
He let out a breath through his nose.
Short.
Controlled.
Then he straightened, turned, and walked out of the room.
Back into motion.
Like that would be enough.