dhibooks Chapter 554: Song Done
Chapter 554: Song Done
Three days later, the song was finished.
That fact alone shouldn’t have surprised anyone. Not at JD Records, and certainly not after everything Dayo had accomplished throughout his career. The stories had existed for years, passed around studios, rehearsal rooms, music schools, and industry gatherings like modern legends.
People talked about the album he recorded in less than a month.
They talked about the sessions that stretched deep into the night because he refused to settle for anything less than exactly what he heard in his head.
They talked about producers who entered confident and left humbled.
The stories were everywhere.
The difference now was that hundreds of people inside JD Records had actually witnessed it.
And somehow, seeing it with their own eyes felt far more unbelievable than hearing about it.
The atmosphere throughout the building reflected that reality.
Every lounge, hallway, break room, and studio seemed to host some variation of the same discussion. Artists, producers, engineers, songwriters, trainees, and executives all appeared to be talking about the same thing.
The song.
The recording session.
And how the entire project had somehow gone from a birthday performance to a finished record in only three days.
Near one of the lounges outside Studio A, several trainees occupied a table covered with notebooks, tablets, coffee cups, and enough scribbled notes to fill an entire workshop.
"I still don’t understand it."
The speaker looked genuinely frustrated.
Across from him, another trainee laughed.
"You watched the entire session."
"Exactly."
"So what’s confusing?"
"Everything."
The table erupted into laughter.
The first trainee pointed toward Studio A.
"No, seriously. The first take sounded incredible. If you played that version for me without context, I would’ve thought it was finished."
Several heads nodded.
Because that was true.
The first take had sounded fantastic.
The second trainee leaned back in his chair.
"That’s because you’re listening like a fan."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you’re listening for whether it sounds good."
"And?"
"Dayo was listening for whether it sounded perfect."
That immediately silenced the table.
One trainee flipped through his notebook before stopping at a particular page.
"You remember the breath?"
A collective groan spread around the group.
Everybody remembered the breath.
One tiny breath.
One microscopic detail hidden between two lines.
Nobody had noticed it.
Not the trainees.
Not most of the artists.
Not even some of the producers.
Dayo had heard it instantly.
The trainee laughed.
"I honestly thought he was joking."
"So did I."
"I thought he was about to laugh and continue."
"He didn’t."
"He made them restart the entire section."
The group shook their heads.
One of the quieter trainees finally spoke.
"You know what’s crazy?"
"What?"
"The scary part isn’t that he heard it."
Everyone looked at her.
"The scary part is that he cared."
The table became noticeably quieter.
Because that was the real lesson.
Excellence wasn’t some magical gift.
It wasn’t luck.
It wasn’t talent alone.
It was caring enough to notice details that other people ignored.
Again.
And again.
And again.
One trainee looked down at his notes before speaking softly.
"I wrote something down during the session."
"What?"
He smiled.
"’Standards are a choice.’"
Nobody laughed.
Because every person sitting there understood exactly what he meant you can either choice to cut corners or do the right things this finally explain why Dayo has such amazing Career.
Elsewhere, a group of artists occupied another lounge area while discussing the same topic from an entirely different perspective.
A younger singer stared at his coffee with a look of existential defeat.
"I spent two weeks recording one chorus."
The others immediately laughed.
"I’m serious."
"We know."
"I spent three days deciding whether I liked my ad-libs."
That only made the laughter worse.
The singer pointed dramatically toward Studio A.
"He finished an entire song in three days."
"Three."
Another artist patted him on the shoulder.
"You’re taking this surprisingly well."
"No I’m not."
The room laughed again.
A female vocalist shook her head.
"What surprised me wasn’t the speed."
"What was it?"
"The consistency."
Several artists nodded.
She continued.
"The first take sounded great."
"The second sounded great."
"The third sounded great."
"The fourth sounded great."
She spread her hands.
"Where do normal people fit into that?"
"Apparently nowhere."
"Good to know."
"JD is really Goated."
More laughter followed.
An older artist who had worked with Dayo before smiled into his drink.
"You know what’s funny?"
"What?"
"Every single person here is shocked."
"We should be."
"But none of us are actually surprised."
The room quieted.
Because he was right.
Everyone knew Dayo’s reputation.
Everyone knew his standards.
Everyone knew his work ethic.
The difference was that now they had evidence.
Real evidence.
And that made the stories feel almost understated.
Meanwhile, a similar conversation was taking place among several producers gathered near one of the engineering suites.
Unlike the trainees and artists, their discussion had become intensely technical.
"The speed isn’t the impressive part."
The producer speaking folded his arms.
Several others looked at him.
"It isn’t?"
"No."
"What is then?"
"The organization."
That immediately earned a few nods.
The producer continued.
"Think about it. Wayne already knew what he wanted. Dayo already knew what he wanted. The engineers knew what they wanted."
Another producer added his own observation.
"There wasn’t any wasted motion."
"Exactly."
"No confusion."
"No uncertainty."
"No waiting around for inspiration."
A younger producer leaned against the wall.
"That’s the part that surprised me."
"What?"
"A lot of artists spend hours trying to find the mood."
The others nodded.
That was common.
Very common.
The producer laughed.
"Dayo arrived in the mood."
Several people laughed.
Because that was probably the most accurate description possible.
Another producer shook his head.
"Most artists wait for inspiration."
"Dayo schedules it."
That earned even more laughter.
A few feet away, Wayne overheard the conversation while carrying a coffee cup.
A small smile appeared on his face.
People always reacted like this.
Every single time.
The first time they witnessed mastery up close.
The first time they realized that extraordinary results often came from painfully ordinary habits repeated consistently over years.
Wayne continued walking until another producer intercepted him.
The moment he saw the expression on the man’s face, Wayne sighed dramatically.
"I already know this question."
The producer laughed.
"Do you?"
"Absolutely."
The surrounding group immediately became interested.
The producer pointed toward Studio A.
"How does he do it?"
Wayne groaned.
The room burst into laughter.
Eventually he took a sip of coffee before shrugging.
"He works."
The producer blinked.
"That’s your answer?"
"That’s the answer."
"No secret?"
"No."
"No hidden formula?"
"No."
Wayne pointed toward the studio.
"You watched him stop great takes because they weren’t great enough."
The producer nodded.
"You watched him redo sections most people would’ve accepted."
Another nod.
"You watched him argue with me over details nobody else could hear."
The producer laughed.
"I definitely saw that."
Wayne smiled.
"That’s the secret."
The group exchanged glances.
The answer sounded simple.
The problem was that very few people actually wanted to live that answer.
Most people wanted the result.
Very few wanted the process.
Dayo wanted both.
Which was why he kept reaching places other artists struggled to approach.
While half the building discussed him, Dayo himself remained completely unaware.
Or perhaps he was aware and simply didn’t care.
Either possibility seemed equally likely.
Inside his office, he sat behind his desk reviewing schedules while Alice stood nearby scrolling through updates on her tablet.
"The final mix is approved."
Dayo nodded.
"Good."
"The visual team has completed everything."
"Good."
"The distribution department is ready."
"Good."
Alice narrowed her eyes.
"You’re agreeing suspiciously fast."
Dayo looked up.
"You asked questions."
"You didn’t even hear half of them."
"I trust you."
Alice stared at him.
"I genuinely don’t know whether that’s sweet or irresponsible."
"Let’s go with sweet."
"I’m going with irresponsible."
Dayo laughed.
Alice rolled her eyes and returned to her tablet.
For a few moments, silence settled over the office.
Then Dayo picked up his phone.
Alice didn’t think much of it.
Until she heard the notification sound.
Then another.
Then another.
Then another.
Her eyes narrowed.
"What did you do?"
Dayo looked innocent.
Which immediately made her suspicious.
"What do you mean?"
Alice stepped closer.
"What did you do?"
Without speaking, Dayo turned the screen around.
Alice looked.
Then blinked.
Then blinked again.
His latest post had already gone live.
Four simple words.
Almost ready. See you soon.
That was it.
No explanation.
No teaser.
No date.
No context.
Four words.
Alice stared at the screen.
Then slowly looked up.
"That’s all?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because it’s almost ready."
Alice closed her eyes.
Sometimes working with Dayo felt like a professional endurance test.
When she opened them again, the engagement numbers were already climbing.
Rapidly.
Dangerously rapidly.
"Oh no."
Dayo looked confused.
"What?"
"The fans found it."
"The post is public."
"That’s not what I mean."
Alice refreshed the page.
The comment count doubled almost instantly.
Then doubled again.
Then again.
The internet had officially noticed.
Within minutes fan pages began sharing screenshots.
Discussion accounts started posting theories.
Reaction channels launched emergency livestreams.
Entire communities descended into complete chaos.
One of the first comments read:
FINALLY.
Another appeared seconds later.
WE WON.
A third quickly followed.
I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS.
Alice laughed despite herself.
The replies beneath it were even worse.
SOMEBODY CHECK ON ME.
I’M CRYING IN PUBLIC.
THEY CALLED US CRAZY.
LOOK WHO’S CRAZY NOW.
Dayo looked pleased.
"I think they’re excited."
"No kidding."
More comments flooded in.
WAIT.
THREE DAYS AGO HE WAS RECORDING.
HOW IS IT FINISHED?
BRO DOESN’T SLEEP.
THIS MAN OPERATES ON A DIFFERENT CALENDAR.
The engagement continued climbing.
Then the skeptics arrived.
As they always did.
One comment read:
Probably marketing.
Another followed.
The song isn’t finished.
They’re building hype.
A third added:
I’ll believe it when I hear it.
Alice watched the replies arrive like artillery fire.
One veteran fan responded almost immediately.
Tell me you’re new here without telling me you’re new here.
Another replied:
First week in the fandom?
Welcome.
A third added:
This man once recorded an entire album in less than a month.
Please do your research.
The skeptic attempted a response.
It didn’t go well.
More fans arrived.
One comment gained thousands of likes within minutes.
The funniest thing about being a Dayo fan is watching new people doubt him.
The replies underneath stretched endlessly.
Every single release.
Every single time.
They never learn.
Bro is basically a productivity myth.
Not a myth.
A workaholic.
Same thing.
Another comment quickly exploded in popularity.
People think Dayo needs marketing.
The marketing needs Dayo.
Alice laughed so hard she nearly dropped her tablet.
The chaos only continued growing.
Across different countries.
Across different languages.
Across different platforms.
Translations appeared almost immediately.
Fan accounts created breakdowns.
Reaction channels started analyzing four words as if they contained secret codes.
One account posted:
ALMOST READY.
SEE YOU SOON.
THAT MEANS THE SONG IS COMING.
The post gained thousands of interactions.
Another account replied:
Thank you detective.
The internet loved it.
Inside JD Records, employees began sharing screenshots with one another.
Then they started laughing.
Then they started arguing about which fan theories were the funniest.
By afternoon, the teaser had become the primary topic of conversation throughout the building.
Valerie eventually entered Alice’s office carrying her phone.
"You’ve seen this?"
Alice sighed.
"Unfortunately."
Valerie showed her the screen.
A fan had somehow constructed an entire release timeline using only four words.
Alice stared at it.
"They built a chart."
"I know."
"They used colors."
"I know."
"There are arrows."
"I know."
Valerie lowered the phone.
"They terrify me."
"They terrify everyone."
A moment later Wayne entered.
One look at their faces told him everything.
"The internet?"
"The internet."
He nodded knowingly.
"How bad?"
Alice turned her screen toward him.
Wayne read the comments.
Then immediately burst out laughing.
"Oh they’re gone."
"Gone?"
"Completely gone."
He pointed toward one comment.
Dayo finished the song before recording it.
Another.
Dayo discovered time travel.
Another.
He recorded the song in the future and brought it back.
Wayne nearly folded in half.
The more he read, the worse it became.
One fan confidently explained that Dayo had probably invented a secret twenty-eight-hour day.
Another insisted that JD Records possessed hidden technology unavailable to normal humans.
A third claimed Dayo had cloned himself years ago and simply rotated between copies.
Logic had officially left the conversation.
Hours later, the excitement still showed no signs of slowing down.
If anything, it had intensified.
Hashtags continued climbing.
Industry pages started discussing the release despite having almost no information.
Analysts began predicting numbers.
Music journalists started writing articles.
Several artists quietly moved their own release dates after hearing rumors that Dayo’s new song was approaching.
Inside his office, Dayo eventually glanced at his phone again.
The notification count had become absurd.
He scrolled through a few comments.
Read several messages.
Smiled.
Then locked the screen.
Alice noticed immediately.
"That’s it?"
"What?"
"You’re done?"
"The comments are nice."
"The entire internet is losing its mind."
Dayo shrugged.
"They’re excited."
Alice stared at him.
"That is your entire response?"
"What else should it be?"
Alice opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
Because honestly, she should have expected that answer.
While everyone else focused on anticipation, Dayo focused on the work.
While everyone else celebrated milestones, he thought about the next challenge.
The song was finished.
The release preparations were underway.
The reactions had begun.
And somewhere inside his head, he was already planning what came next.
Outside, however, the world wasn’t moving nearly as fast.
The discussions continued spreading.
The theories became increasingly ridiculous.
The excitement kept growing.
And across countless timelines, forums, livestreams, and comment sections, millions of people were preparing themselves for a release they hadn’t even heard yet.
The recording session had ended three days ago.
The song was finished.
The teaser was live.
And anticipation was becoming impossible to contain.
For Dayo, it was simply another completed project.
For everyone else, it felt like the beginning of something much bigger.
And judging by the storm already forming online, the chaos had only just begun.