The morning sun came fast, and Dayo was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for the family after going on his early morning jog. He woke up early, even after the five-hour trip. Normally, he should have felt tired, but instead, he felt energetic. He suspected it had something to do with the system—his physical fitness was improving at an incredible rate, beyond normal.
"Dayo, you're awake… and you're making breakfast?" Abishola asked, surprised to see her son busy in the kitchen—a rare sight.
"Haha, what, Mom?" Dayo said, glancing at her amused expression, his hands still moving as he chopped onions with professional precision.
Abishola kept watching him. He was never the type to like kitchen work, yet now he moved like someone with decades of cooking experience. "I don't know what London did to you, but I like it."
"Haha, nice one, Mum. But this is just for the week—next week, you can take over again. Please, come help me out," Dayo said.
They prepared a healthy meal together, catching up as they worked. In between, Dayo told his mother about his disease being cured. She cried almost the whole time and insisted she'd follow him to the hospital to confirm. Dayo sighed and agreed, knowing there was no winning that argument with a Yoruba mother once she set her mind to it.
The family came down for breakfast. As everyone ate, praise for Dayo's cooking filled the room. they even said it tasted better than Abishola's. She folded her arms and declared they would all be cooking for themselves from now on, forcing the family to plead and "appease the goddess" before she finally relented.
After the meal, everyone went about their business. Dayo offered to join them after dropping off his siblings at school.
On the way, he glanced at Janet. "So, Janet, about yesterday… could you do me a favor?"
"Hmm, what's it, big bro? I'll think about it," she replied with a smug look.
"Alright. I just need you to put my new name out there for everyone interested," Dayo said, reaching back to ruffle her head. He had little time to start from scratch, so he needed a boost to reach more people before the wildcard selection.
Janet tapped her chin like she was deep in thought. "Alright, I'll help you… on one condition. You'll join me on live when I ask."
"Haha, alright, sis—you have a deal," he said, shaking her little hand.
"Bro, what are you using all this popularity for?" Jeffery asked. He knew his brother was talented, but with his spasmodic dysphonia, it had been difficult for him to sing—sometimes even to talk.
"Eh, I forgot to tell you guys… my spasmodic dysphonia is cured."
"WHAT?!" both Janet and Jeffery shouted.
Dayo sighed and explained everything briefly as they reached the school. "Relax, guys. When I pick you up, I'll tell you all the details. For now, get to class."
After dropping them off, he leaned back in his seat for a moment.If he was going to stand a chance at the wildcard selection, he couldn't just rely on talent—he needed the right tools. And that meant getting instruments worthy of his skill.
He drove to a musical store to upgrade his gear.
He walked in, scanning the rows of instruments for ones that suited him best, when he heard a feminine voice.
"Good morning, sir."
Turning, Dayo saw a slender blonde woman with fair skin, probably in her late twenties.
"Good morning, señorita—and I'm no 'sir'," Dayo replied with a bright smile.
She giggled. "Alright, then what should I call you?"
"Call me Dayo… or JD, whichever suits you, Eva," he said, glancing at her nametag.
Eva found herself trying not to blush, which was unusual for her. Customers often flirted, and she usually just smiled politely, but there was something different about him.
"Alright, Dayo. What are you looking for?"
"You… I guess," Dayo said with a straight face.
Eva froze for a second, then laughed, and Dayo joined in.
"Nice one, Dayo. Are you always this flirty?"
"Nope. Only when I see an angel in disguise," he replied, stepping an inch closer to adjust a strand of hair covering her face.
Eva's cheeks turned red, but before she could respond, a sharp voice called from across the store.
"Eva! What are you doing?"
Eva quickly stepped back and turned to see her boss—a younger woman in her early twenties, with a cold, unreadable expression.
"Nothing, ma'am. Just asking the customer what he needed," Eva said quickly.
"I see. Leave the customer to me and return to the desk."
The boss walked up. She had striking blue crystal-like eyes, a figure that could turn heads twice, and a presence that radiated quiet authority.
"Please, sir, try not to flirt with my employee," she said politely, though her eyes carried a warning.
Dayo smirked slightly. "My apologies. I had no intent to flirt—just casual talk." His voice was calm, neither humble nor arrogant.
She seemed slightly surprised he wasn't intimidated. She took a slow breath, her eyes narrowing just a touch—as if she were trying to read him. From her expression, Dayo could tell she was weighing whether he was here to buy instruments… or just to charm her staff.
"Alright, then," she finally said, "what can I get for you?"
"I need an acoustic guitar—Breedlove Pursuit or Gibson J-200 if you have them. For piano, either Yamaha U1 or Bösendorfer Imperial. And I'd like to see your production equipment collection as well."
Her eyebrow twitched, as though impressed. "Follow me."