From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 346: One Week 1

The last show ended like a ceiling collapsing.

Not because anything went wrong, but because everybody finally hit the point where adrenaline could not carry them anymore. The lights went down, the chants kept going even after the last note died, and the backstage hallway felt like a tunnel full of sweating bodies, laughter that sounded half broken, and people holding each other as they had just survived a storm together. The crew moved on instinct. The artists moved on muscle memory. Even Dayo, who usually stayed sharp after performances, felt his bones whispering that they were done.

They got back to the hotel like a convoy that had been running for weeks without stopping.

Nobody talked much. Nobody even argued. People just dropped their bags where they stood, kicked off their shoes, and let the silence swallow them. Phones buzzed. Notifications stacked. Valerie’s device kept lighting up like a warning sign, but she did not even open half of it. Not tonight. Not after this. Jang Wook’s face looked like someone had drained the color out of him. Min Jae sat down, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes like he had been holding his breath for a month.

Then one by one, they crashed.

Hard.

The kind of sleep that is not rest, but shutdown.

When morning came, it did not feel like morning. It felt like waking up in the middle of a mission. Bodies were heavy. Throats were dry. The air in the hotel smelled like perfume, sweat, and victory that had been left out too long. People moved slowly at first, then faster once they realized there was a message waiting for them.

Dayo had requested a small meeting room.

Just a private office-sized room that could hold the core team and whoever was still on the roster for the run. Word traveled fast. Assistants knocked. Crew members exchanged tired looks and followed. Artists showed up in hoodies and caps, still half asleep, still carrying that post stage daze in their eyes.

When everyone settled, Dayo stood at the front.

No stage lights or glamour. Just him, in a plain fit, looking like a man who had been pushing a whole world and finally reached the edge of the table.

For a few seconds, he did not speak. He just looked at them.

He looked at Jang Wook, who had been juggling venues, permits, schedules, and chaos like a man forced to learn how to breathe underwater. He looked at Min Jae, whose calm influence had made doors open in countries where most people would have been ignored. He looked at Valerie, who had carried the pressure of the American machine and still kept her head straight. He looked at Urich and Wayne, who were always near him, always working, always catching the details nobody else heard. He looked at Yuri, who still looked shocked that this was her life now, but who had shown up every night anyway and delivered like she belonged there.

Then he finally spoke.

His voice was softer than people expected.

"Before anything else, thank you."

That alone shifted the room.

Because nobody had heard him say thank you like that in weeks. Not because he was ungrateful, but because there had been no time to slow down enough to feel anything.

He continued, steady, deliberate.

"Four weeks of constant pressure. Constant movement. Different countries, different rules, different crowds, different time zones. Promotions. Rehearsals. Flights. Sound checks. Meetings. Shows. Then another show. Then another country. We did more than people think is possible in this amount of time."

He paused, then gave them the truth without dressing it up.

"We toured four countries within the span of two weeks. We ran show after show after show. We pulled off cities back-to-back. No real rest. No real breathing room. And nobody in this room can pretend it was easy."

A few people laughed softly, the tired kind of laugh that is really agreement.

Dayo nodded like he expected it.

"That success out there was not magic. It was work. It was your effort. Your consistency. Your discipline. Your sacrifice. The fans see the lights. They do not see the hours behind it. But I see it. I saw it every day."

He lifted a hand and pointed gently around the room, just acknowledging their effort and drive.

"Some of you were running on two hours of sleep for days. Some of you were fighting exhaustion like it was an enemy. Some of you had to hold your nerves down and still perform like nothing was wrong. Some of you had to smile through stress, handle the public, handle the internet, handle the pressure of being watched every second."

He exhaled once, like letting something go.

"So I want to do something simple."

People leaned in without realizing it.

He said it like it was a normal business decision, but the warmth in his voice made it land differently.

"Those who want to go home today, you are free. If your body is done, go and be with your family. Go and rest for real."

A few faces instantly softened.

Then he added the part that made heads lift.

"But for those who want to rest up properly, I have a package."

The room stirred.

Dayo’s expression stayed calm, but the moment he said it, you could feel energy wake up again. Not stage energy. Relief energy.

"I am giving everybody a one-week break—one full week. No rehearsals. No meetings. No need for appearances. You can pick your dream place. You can stay around if you want. You can travel. You can go in groups. You can go alone. Whatever makes you breathe again."

He looked directly at Jang Wook for a second, and the corner of his mouth lifted.

"And I mean actually breathe. Not that fake rest where you are still answering calls."

Jang Wook rubbed his face and laughed quietly like he was about to cry.

Dayo continued.

"Make your list. Tell the team what you need. Flights. Hotels. Reservations. Whatever. It is covered. Just enjoy your break."

For a second, nobody spoke.

Then the room broke into reactions.

Not screaming or chaos. Just exhausted joy spilling out in small ways. People smiling like they forgot they still had that ability. People whispering to each other, already thinking of beaches, home kitchens, quiet rooms, somewhere without noise. Yuri’s eyes brightened in a way that looked almost fragile, like she had been holding it together by force and this was the first time someone gave her permission to stop.

Wayne shook his head slowly, amused.

"Bro, you are serious."

Dayo nodded once.

"I’m serious."

Valerie cleared her throat, half professional, half grateful.

"So after the break, we resume light appearances. One or two. Just to keep the movie alive, keep the album visible. Nothing heavy."

Dayo raised a finger gently.

"Yes. Light. Controlled. No more madness."

Then he added, and this part he kept tighter, quieter, like something he did not want to expand on.

"And for the next week, I don’t want to hear any numbers. Not even a summary. Not even a hint. If you are holding reports, keep them. If your phone is full of data, hide it. For one week, I want peace."

Min Jae studied him, like he understood more than he was saying, then nodded.

"Alright."

Jang Wook raised both hands in surrender.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

That made the room laugh again, and this time it was fuller.

After the meeting, the hallway became a soft wave of movement. People are splitting into groups. Few were talking about going home immediately, but the majority were talking about taking the break together. Some of the invited artists on the roster were already calling their managers, already planning their exit with relief.

Rex and a few others took the next flight out. One by one, they left with hugs, tired jokes, and promises to link up again after the break. The hotel lobby kept seeing suitcases roll out like the tour was shedding its skin.

Dayo stayed long enough to make sure everyone was settled.

Long enough to make sure nobody felt forgotten.

Then he finally went home.

Home.

The door barely closed before his sister rushed him like she had been waiting at the edge of the house with her heart in her hands. She jumped on him, laughing and talking at the same time, and Dayo caught her easily even though his body was dead tired.

"I missed you," she said, voice muffled in his shoulder like she did not want to let go.

Dayo smiled, real and quiet.

"I missed you, too."

Abisola was there as well, steady, composed, the kind of presence that always made the room feel safe. She greeted him with that look that said she was proud but not dramatic about it. Dayo hugged her too, and for a moment, the pressure of everything else loosened.

They ate. They talked. They laughed. The kind of small family noise that grounded him more than any stadium ever could.

Later, when the house finally settled, and the excitement cooled, Dayo stood alone for a while, looking out at the quiet street like he was trying to convince his brain that the world could actually be still. His phone buzzed again. A new flood of notifications. New clips. New headlines. New arguments online.

He did not open any of it.

Not today.

Not this week.

He turned the phone face down, exhaled slowly, and let himself feel the simple truth.

They had done it.

And for the first time in a long time, he let his shoulders drop.

One week.

Just one week.

Then they would come back, sit down, and face the numbers that everyone in the world was already screaming about.

But not now.

Now, they would rest.

He had done his best to utilize the Global Spotlight Card, and it all worked out better than expected. All that remained was to rest and see how things work from here out