From A Producer To A Global Superstar

The drive to Washington felt longer than it should — probably because of the traffic and the thousands of people heading out for the event.

Outside the car window, the city glowed with banners, flags, and massive digital billboards all showing the same thing — GLOBAL COMPETITION FINALS – LIVE TODAY.

It had been four weeks since the semifinals ended, and the world had been waiting for this day.

Dayo sat in the back seat beside Alice, scrolling through his phone as news updates filled the feed.

Everyone was talking about the event again — hashtags, promo clips, contestant highlights — the buildup was insane.

Even though his name wasn't part of the competition anymore, people still connected him to it.

After all, it was under his mentorship that most of the finalists first gained attention.

Dayo would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little jealous or pained that he wasn't among them.

He'd worked hard, but in a strange way, it had all worked in his favor, and he had made peace with that.

"You can still feel it, huh?" Alice said, glancing at him with a faint smile. "You might not be performing, but your shadow's all over this show."

Dayo looked up. "Yeah… maybe. But this is their moment now."

Alice smirked. "Sure. Says the guy the media calls the reason viewership doubled this year."

He chuckled softly and looked back out the window. "I just hope they kill it today — especially Min-Jae."

Alice nodded. "He will. I've seen their rehearsals online. They've grown a lot since the last stage."

The car pulled up in front of the Capitol Music Arena, a massive dome that shimmered under the afternoon light.

Hundreds of fans crowded outside, waving flags and holding signs for their favorite contestants.

The sound of chants and camera flashes mixed in the air like thunder and rain.

Security cleared a side entrance for VIPs.

Alice showed their passes — premium access — and the guard ushered them through.

The corridor leading into the hall was wide and polished, filled with staff rushing with clipboards, camera crews, and assistants carrying cables and gear.

As they walked, Dayo could hear the faint hum of instruments being tuned from the main stage — drums, bass, strings — all blending into one massive, living sound.

It felt like stepping into another world.

"Reminds you of anything?" Alice asked quietly.

"Yeah," he said. "Too much."

They turned a corner — and stopped.

Standing by the corridor wall, adjusting his cufflinks, was Michael.

For a split second, no one said anything.

Then Michael turned slowly, his eyes locking onto Dayo. His smile was faint — the kind that never reached his eyes.

"Well, if it isn't the golden boy," he said, voice calm but sharp enough to cut through the noise.

Alice stiffened beside Dayo.

Dayo kept his tone steady. "Michael."

Michael stepped forward, smooth and unhurried. "Didn't think I'd see you here. Thought you'd be too busy bathing in the internet's praise."

"I'm just here to support a friend," Dayo replied.

Michael's lips curved upward. "Support? That's sweet. But tell me, Dayo — do you really think all this noise you've built is going to last?"

Dayo didn't answer.

Michael leaned closer, voice dropping low enough for only the two of them to hear.

"You think you're smart, huh? Breaking records, playing the hero, pretending you're untouchable. But tonight, you'll see what real control looks like.

By the end of this show, you'll understand where the power truly sits."

Dayo met his stare without flinching. "If that's a threat, you'll have to do better."

Michael smirked, amused. "Oh, it's not a threat. It's a promise."

He brushed past them, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air, and disappeared down another corridor toward the VIP section.

Alice exhaled. "And there goes partiality. It's already rigged before starting."

She shook her head. She'd worked for the Global Competition long enough to know Michael practically owned the show.

His influence was everywhere, and people bent to it — or they were washed out, like she had been once. Everyone just swallowed it quietly.

Dayo sighed. "I don't know. But whatever he's planning… he's confident."

"Don't think too much about it," Alice said. "Let's just go and watch the show."

He nodded.

They continued walking, entering the vast hall through the inner gate.

The moment they stepped inside, the noise hit — roaring applause, flashing lights, cameras sweeping across the crowd.

The place was packed to the brim: thousands of people from different countries, sponsors, industry figures, and reporters.

The stage stretched in a circular design, surrounded by massive LED screens projecting the event logo and live visuals from backstage.

It felt like a global festival.

Bright colors washed over the room — dancers in warm-ups stretching at the side, technicians checking light angles, judges seated at the front rows — all waiting for the clock to strike showtime.

Alice pointed toward the far left. "That's our spot. VIP Booth 7."

They made their way there and sat down. The booth had a panoramic view of the stage and a glass table stocked with drinks.

Dayo adjusted his wristband and glanced around. People were still taking photos, waving miniature flags, watching countdown screens.

The atmosphere was electric.

On the main display, clips of the finalists played one after another: Min-Jae, Emily, Misha, Frank, and several others from different regions.

Each clip ended with the same tagline — "One Stage, One World, One Champion."

"That's Frank," Alice said, pointing at the tall, confident contestant from New York.

Rumor had it Michael's company had invested millions in him before the finals.

Dayo nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know. After all, he almost ruined my team's performance."

Alice laughed softly. "True. I still remember that."

Then she added, her smile fading, "If Michael meant what he said earlier, he's already set something up."

Dayo's jaw tightened. "I know."

The lights dimmed slightly as the announcer's voice boomed through the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Global Competition Finals 2025! Broadcasting live from Washington D.C. to over one hundred and thirty countries worldwide!"

The crowd erupted. Cameras panned across the finalists, the judges, the roaring audience.

Dayo clapped along with everyone else, masking the unease building inside him.

He couldn't shake Michael's words from his mind.

> "By the end of this show, you'll understand where the power truly sits."

He didn't know what that meant exactly, but he knew Michael wasn't bluffing.

Still, he forced himself to focus. This wasn't his stage tonight — it was Min-Jae's, Emily's, and Misha's. They deserved this moment.

A popular artist opened the event — heavy drumline, electric guitar, synths.

The screens flared bright red, dancers flooded the stage, and the crowd moved like a wave.

Alice smiled. "They really went all out this year."

Dayo nodded, but his eyes weren't on the stage.

They drifted to the opposite VIP section, where Michael sat comfortably with his assistant beside him, phone in hand, typing calmly.

Their eyes met across the hall.

Michael smiled again — slow, deliberate, knowing.

Dayo looked away.

Something was coming.

He didn't know what yet, but he could feel it in his gut — that same tension that comes right before a storm.

He leaned back in his seat, exhaled, and whispered under his breath,

"Whatever it is… just don't affect my friends."

The lights on stage flared brighter as the next act was announced.

The finals had officially begun.