The calls started before the room had fully settled into silence again. Sharon didn’t wait for the mont to stretch too long because she understood what ca next was not sothing you delayed. Once Dayo made a decision, hesitation was the only real risk left, and she wasn’t going to be the reason anything slowed down.
She stood by the table with her tablet in hand, scrolling through contacts she had already filtered earlier, nas she knew carried weight but were not locked into the sa tight structures as the artists they had just dealt with. These were people who understood sound deeply, people who had shaped records from behind the scenes, people who moved in the industry without always being visible at the center of it.
She glanced once at Dayo.
He hadn’t moved much. Still seated, still calm, watching without interfering. That alone told her everything was in control. He wasn’t micromanaging this. He trusted the execution.
This now made her realize that when it ca to business she had never seen Dayo make any huge mistake which suprise her till date at one point she even though he was a kind of robot.
But when it ca to his private life he could be a ss she didn’t even want to think about it she cleared her thoughts towards were it was steering to.
"should i call the first one?" she asked.
He gave a small nod.
Sharon tapped the screen and lifted the phone.
The line rang twice before it connected.
"Hello?" the voice ca through, steady but guarded.
"Good afternoon," Sharon said, her tone professional, controlled. "This is Sharon. I’m calling on behalf of Dayo."
There was a slight pause on the other end, not long, but noticeable.
"Dayo?" the producer repeated, like he was making sure he heard correctly.
"Yes Dayo JD."
Another pause, this one longer, carrying a different kind of weight.
Sharoon was already use to this reaction when dealing with situations like this.
"Alright," he said finally but his breath was still rising which was a bit audible through the phone. "I’m listening."
Sharon didn’t rush into details. She let the na settle first, let the recognition do its work.
"He’s working on a private project," she continued. "Selective team. Limited access and sothing private. We’re reaching out to a few producers he wants involved directly."
The tone on the other end shifted slightly. Less guarded now, more attentive.
"Private how?" he asked.
"Closed environnt," she said. "No external interference. Full creative control no leak of any kind till absolutely necessary this is a no mistake project.
There was a small sound, like he leaned back or adjusted his position.
"And he reached out to ?" he asked, a bit more direct now.
"Yes," Sharon replied. "Specifically."
That landed and his already calm heart raced up again.
She didn’t oversell it. She didn’t need to.
"What kind of project are we talking about?" he asked.
Before she could respond, Dayo gestured slightly.
She handed him the phone without hesitation.
Dayo brought it to his ear, his posture unchanged.
"Good afternoon," he said.
There was no extra energy in his voice, no attempt to impress. Just clarity.
"Yeah," the producer replied quickly now seems he was laying down he sat up imdiately. "Good afternoon. I wasn’t expecting this."
"I know," Dayo said.
There was a brief silence, not awkward, just recalibration.
"I’ll get straight to it," Dayo continued. "I’m putting sothing together. Not public yet. I need a controlled space to build it."
"Here or abroad?" the producer asked.
"Abroad."
That answer ca without hesitation.
Another pause.
"You want to travel?" he asked.
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"That depends on how the work moves," Dayo said. "But initial phase, a few weeks deeping it might take a month."
The producer didn’t respond imdiately. You could almost hear the thinking on the other end.
"What about logistics?" he asked.
"everything is handled," Dayo replied. "Flights, accommodation, studio, everything."
"And compensation?" the producer asked, more careful now.
Dayo didn’t change his tone.
"One hundred thousand," he said. "Flat."
Silence.
Not the kind that cos from confusion, but the kind that cos from recalculating reality.
"You said... one hundred?" the producer asked slowly.
"Yes."
"Dollars ?."
"Yes."
Another silence, longer this ti.
"You’re serious," he said.
"I don’t make those offers casually," Dayo replied.
There was a faint exhale from the other end.
"I’ve been hearing things," the producer said after a mont. "About what’s been going on."
Dayo didn’t respond imdiately.
"Industry feels... different right now," the producer continued. "People are moving carefully. Artists especially."
"I know," Dayo said.
"And this," the producer added, "this doesn’t have anything to do with that?"
"This has everything to do with what is moving around it," Dayo replied.
That answer was enough.
Another short pause, then a shift.
"I’m in," the producer said.
No long negotiation.
No hesitation anymore.
"Send the details," he added. "I’ll clear my schedule."
"You’ll have everything today," Dayo said.
They ended the call cleanly.
Sharon took the phone back, already noting things down, but she glanced at Dayo briefly.
"That was fast," she said.
"It was expected," he replied.
She nodded once and moved on.
The second call went out within minutes.
This ti, the response ca quicker.
"Hello?" the voice was sharper, more energetic.
"Good afternoon," Sharon began. "This is Sharon, calling on behalf of Dayo."
There was no pause this ti.
"Dayo?" the producer said imdiately. "As in—"
"Yes Dayo JD." she smiled
A short laugh ca through the line like he couldn’t belive what he was hearing.
"Okay, I’m listening," he said, tone already warr.
"We’re putting together a private project," Sharon said. "Selective team. Limited involvent. He specifically requested you."
"Ah," the producer said, a mix of surprise and interest. "That’s... unexpected."
Sharon let that sit for a mont.
"It will require travel to the United States," she added. "Full relocation for the duration."
"That’s not a problem," he said quickly. "Depends on the work."
"It’s intensive," she said. "Hands-on. Not a passive role."
"I prefer it that way," he replied.
She glanced at Dayo again, then passed the phone over.
Dayo took it.
"Good afternoon," he said.
"Good afternoon," the producer replied, almost imdiately. "I’ve been following your work."
"I appreciate that," Dayo said.
"I didn’t think you’d reach out like this," the producer continued. "Especially now."
"Oh why do you say so now?" Dayo asked.
The producer hesitated slightly.
"You know how things are," he said carefully. "People are... adjusting. Calls are being watched differently. Artists are moving cautiously."
"I’m not calling as an artist right now," Dayo said. "I’m calling as soone building sothing."
That shifted the tone.
"I hear you," the producer said.
"I need people who understand the sound," Dayo continued. "Not just technically. Culturally."
"That’s my space," the producer replied, more confident now.
"I know thats why we are having this conversation," Dayo said.
There was a small pause, then the producer asked, "What’s the structure?"
"Controlled environnt," Dayo said. "U.S.-based. Limited team. No external pressure."
"And paynt?" he asked, straightforward.
"One hundred thousand," Dayo said.
The reaction was imdiate.
"Wait," the producer said, almost laughing. "You’re serious?"
"Yes."
Another short silence, then a different kind of tone ca in.
"That’s not small," he said.
"It’s not ant to be," Dayo replied.
The producer exhaled slowly.
"I’ve been hearing a lot," he said again. "People talking, moving carefully. But this... this is different."
"It is," Dayo said.
"And you’re not worried?" the producer asked.
"About what?"
"About the noise around you," he said. "The pressure."
Dayo didn’t pause this ti.
"No."
That answer landed clean.
Another second passed.
"I’m in," the producer said.
No negotiation.
No delay.
"Send what I need to know," he added. "I’ll be ready."
"You’ll get everything today," Dayo said.
The call ended.p
Sharon placed the phone down slowly, then looked at him.
"That was even faster," she said.
Dayo didn’t respond to that.
Instead, he stood up, walking toward the window again, his hands in his pockets now.
Behind him, Sharon continued working, already moving into the next phase.
Flights.
Schedules.
Studio bookings.
Coordination between two different ti zones.
Everything began aligning quickly.
But even as things moved, there was sothing else sitting under the surface, sothing that didn’t need to be said directly.
The producers knew.
They didn’t say it outright, but it was there in the pauses, in the careful wording, in the way they brought it up without fully naming it.
The industry was shifting.
Calls were being weighed differently.
Artists were stepping carefully, asuring risk against opportunity.
But producers were different.
They weren’t the face.
They weren’t the ones under imdiate spotlight pressure.
They moved in the background, and because of that, they had more freedom.
And when an opportunity like this ca, sothing that combined access, control, and a level of compensation that spoke for itself, the decision beca simple.
They didn’t need to be convinced.
They just needed to understand enough.
Sharon finished typing and looked up again.
"They’re both locked in," she said.
Dayo nodded once.
"Good," he replied.
She hesitated for a mont, then asked, "You think this stays quiet?"
"For now," he said.
"And later?"
"We’ll see," he replied.
That was all.
Outside, the city continued moving like nothing had changed.
Inside, everything already had.
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