"Grhhh…" The sound of Dayo's stomach growling echoed through the room, reminding him that he hadn't eaten.
He stood up and headed to the fridge. Pulling out some steak and other ingredients, he prepared a healthy meal. A smile crossed his face. Cooking had always been one of his hobbies, and he was good at it. Back at home, his mom would often leave the cooking to him. In fact, he even owned a few restaurants around the world in his past life.
After eating, he lay back on his bed and started doing some research on the entertainment industry in this new world. What shocked him was how different everything was—none of the movies, songs, books, or artworks from his old world existed here.
A slow smile formed on his lips. That meant opportunity. Limitless opportunity. If he introduced the works from his world here, it would shake the entire industry. His thoughts were racing when his phone suddenly rang.
"Mum"
'Mum?' he repeated in his head.
He quickly went through his new memories and realized he had a family here—both parents alive, a younger sister, and a younger brother. However, things weren't smooth. He had fought with his parents after they warned him about his ex-girlfriend. The argument became big, and about a year ago, he had told them he wouldn't be coming back. That was when he moved to the UK.
The real reason he left? His parents had told him to stop chasing music because of his illness. They didn't believe he could sing again. The only one who had 'supported' him was his ex-girlfriend—though it turned out she had been using him to attract attention from a record label.
'What a dumbass… fighting with your parents over a girl who wasn't even worth it. Even though that's not the only reason,' he thought.
His family wasn't rich, but they were doing okay. His dad was a retired military man, and his mom ran a decent restaurant that brought in a steady income. He hadn't lacked anything growing up.
Back to the present, he wondered why she was calling. The only reason that came to mind was that she had seen the news about his ex and wanted to check on him.
He sighed. 'Well… I'm living his life now. Might as well do right by them.'
He picked the call.
"Hello, Dayo," his mother's voice came through. Her accent was unmistakable—pure Yoruba.
"Hello, mum."
"Oh! So now you remember you have a mother, abi? You this child," she said. Though her tone was harsh, Dayo could hear the warmth underneath.
"I'm sorry, mum. I shouldn't have walked out on the family like that. Ẹ má bínú ma," he said, ending with an apology in Yoruba—something she always insisted he learn in the past.
Abishola paused in shock. Her son almost never apologized, even when he was clearly wrong. And the Yoruba? So fluent, like a true Yoruba man.
"Hmm. It's alright, my son. Ah! I saw the news o. About what happened. Did you really hit her, like they said?"
"Ahn ahn, mummy! You know me, kind of son you taught me to be, nah. I didn't. What really happened was—"And he explained everything in detail, not leaving out any part of the story.
Abishola's face twitched, but she kept calm. Listening closely, she realized her son had changed. He sounded more mature now.
"Well… there's nothing left for you in the UK. You should come home, abi?"
"Yes ma, I was already planning to come soon. How's dad? And my siblings?"
"Hmph. After a whole year of disappearing, you'll find out yourself when you get here!" she said, still sounding mildly upset.
"Alright ma. Ọdàrọ ma," Dayo said, greeting her goodnight in Yoruba.
"Your Yoruba has improved. Good night, my son," she said softly.
Dayo chuckled. 'Thank God that went well. Now I just need to make sure things are fully settled before I return.'
A week passed.
Dayo used that time to get back in shape. He jogged every morning, and his transformation started drawing attention. His toned body and handsome face attracted a few ladies, some of whom ended up spending the night.
But beyond the fun, he made sure to ask casual questions and learn more about this world. Every conversation brought useful insight, and slowly, he was gathering everything he needed.
After the refreshing week, he was ready to return to the U.S., start his music career properly, and face his family.
"Flight 345, this is your captain. We're getting ready to land. Please remain in your seat. Godspeed."
After landing, Dayo took a taxi straight to his family house. Normally, he would have headed to his mom's restaurant since that's where his dad and siblings usually gathered after work. But today, he wanted to surprise them.
He stopped by the market first, bought all the ingredients he needed, and returned home to cook everyone's favorite meal as a peace offering.
He made jollof rice for his dad and younger brother. For his mom, he prepared a native Yoruba dish: Egusi soup and semo. For his little sister, he made roasted plantain and well-peppered grilled fish.
After setting everything on the table, he stood back and smiled. It looked perfect.
'Just one more thing…'
***
"Mum, when is bro Dayo coming back?" Janet asked from the back seat of the car. She was live on TikTok, as usual, with her camera pointed at the front.
She had over 20,000 followers, with more than 5,000 watching her live. She'd talked about her brother often, and he had even appeared in two of her previous streams. Dayo had taught her everything she knew about music, and since he left, she had missed his mentorship.
"Honey, I already told you—he said 'soon,' but no date," Abishola replied with a smile.
"Don't waste your time," Jeffery, Dayo's younger brother, muttered. "I'm sure he's not coming."
"Hey! Don't say that about your brother," Abishola scolded him.
Jason—Dayo's father—sat in the driver's seat, quiet. His eyes were fixed ahead. He didn't say much, but it was clear his mind was racing.
"We're home… Eh? Jeffery, didn't you turn off the lights before leaving?"
"Uhh… I did, sir," Jeffery answered, confused as he noticed the porch lights were on.
Then a thought hit him. He gasped and blurted, "Maybe… he's home!"