From A Producer To A Global Superstar

The house was quiet now.

Most of the guests had gone, the music had slowed down, and the warmth of the birthday surprise still lingered in the air. Dayo was standing near the dining table, picking up empty cups, still smiling to himself. It had been a long night, a happy one, a rare moment where he wasn't thinking about work, training, evidence, or the next move. Just people who cared about him. People celebrating him.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt something like that.

He heard footsteps coming from the hallway and turned.

Luna.

She was standing there again, hands folded in front of her, looking a little unsure, like she didn't want to interrupt him. The soft light behind her made the moment feel unreal. She looked older in the way life matures someone, not in the way it takes something away. Her hair was tied back loosely, and she wore a simple sweater, nothing special, but Dayo felt the familiar hit in his chest.

The same one he always felt when he looked at her.

He inhaled slowly.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she replied, stepping forward. "Everyone's gone?"

"Yeah. Just you left… and me."

She smiled a little, not the full smile he remembered, but something small. Honest.

Dayo gestured at the couch. "You can sit."

She nodded and walked over, sitting gently. Dayo joined her, leaving a little space between them, not because he wanted to, but because he didn't trust himself if he sat too close.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Luna finally broke the silence. "I'm sorry for coming without telling you. I didn't even know they were hosting a surprise party. I just… came."

"You surprised me," Dayo said. "A lot."

"I know." She laughed softly. "Your sister screamed so loud when she opened the door."

"That's Jennifer for you," Dayo said. "I actually thought she was overreacting as usual. Then I saw you."

Her eyes softened. "You didn't look happy when you first saw me."

"No," Dayo shook his head. "I was. I just didn't expect it. I haven't seen you in four years."

"Four years," she repeated quietly. "And somehow, it feels like yesterday."

Silence settled again.

Dayo leaned back slightly, rubbing his palms together. "How have you been?"

"I've been… good," Luna said, though her voice carried a small shake. "Life is steady. Calm. Predictable." She paused. "Sometimes too predictable."

He nodded slowly.

She took a small breath. "I saw you everywhere. Online. TV. Streaming. Competitions. Music. Everything. You're everywhere, Dayo. Sometimes I wonder if you know how big you've become."

Dayo gave a light shrug. "I just do my thing."

"That's the problem," Luna said softly. "You always just do your thing. You never think about how many people you affect."

Dayo didn't know what to say to that. He looked away.

Luna continued, "I saw the gifts you sent. Every year."

Dayo froze.

She added, "You always used a different delivery name. But I knew."

He blinked. "I wasn't trying to—"

"I know," she said. "You weren't trying to force anything. You were just… being you."

Dayo let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"I felt guilty," he said. "That's all."

"Guilt?" she whispered. "Is that really all it was?"

He didn't answer.

Not immediately.

Because he knew the truth. He had known it for years. But saying it out loud felt like crossing a line he wasn't sure he deserved to cross.

Finally, he said it anyway.

"No. It wasn't just guilt."

Luna's eyes glimmered a little.

He continued, "You were… important to me."

"Were?" she repeated.

Dayo swallowed. "You are. You still are. But I didn't want to hold you back. You're too good for all the madness that comes with me."

Luna looked down at her hands.

"That's not your decision to make."

"I know," Dayo said. "But it was the right one."

"Was it?" she whispered.

He didn't reply.

Luna leaned back and exhaled softly. "Dayo… even after four years, why do I still feel like this? Why do I still feel something when I look at you?"

He didn't look away this time. He held her gaze.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "But I feel it too."

Her breath shook slightly.

And Dayo knew right there that pretending he didn't still love her would be pointless.

He shifted closer, slowly, giving her space to lean back if she wanted. She didn't. She simply watched him, eyes soft, a little tired, a little emotional.

Their hands touched—barely—just the tips of their fingers.

And suddenly everything they had tried to bury over four long years rose up between them.

Luna whispered, "I shouldn't…"

"I know."

"But I want to."

"I know," Dayo said again, his voice low, steady, honest.

She leaned forward first.

He met her halfway.

The kiss was slow, familiar, painful in the way memories are painful. Nothing rushed, nothing wild. Just two people who had loved each other once, and maybe still did, even if they shouldn't.

She rested her forehead against his.

"I hate that I still feel like this," she whispered.

"I hate that I still care this much," he replied.

Neither of them said anything after that.

The night carried them naturally, quietly, with no forced intention. They held each other because it felt right, because it felt familiar, because it felt like something they had both been running from.

And when they eventually slipped into that quiet closeness — it wasn't reckless. It wasn't planned. It wasn't even romantic.

It was two people who missed each other more than they were willing to admit.

The details didn't matter.

What mattered was the quiet, the honesty, the soft breathing between them.

The night faded gently.

---

The Next Morning

Light slipped through the curtains.

Dayo woke first, staring at the ceiling, not moving, not touching her, not wanting to disturb the moment. Luna turned slightly, her eyes half-open. She looked at him for a long second.

"I don't know why I still can't get over you," she whispered.

He closed his eyes briefly.

"Because we were real," Dayo said. "We were the realest thing I ever had."

Luna bit her bottom lip, her eyes watering slightly.

"But we can't do this," she said. "We both know it."

"I know."

"You'll hurt me."

"I know," he said again, voice soft. "Not on purpose. But I will. And you don't deserve that."

"And you'll hate yourself if you do."

He didn't argue.

She sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around her before standing. Dayo watched silently as she gathered her bag.

There was no anger.

No shouting.

Just quiet acceptance.

When she reached the door, she turned.

"Will I see you again after this?" Dayo asked.

Luna hesitated.

"…I don't know."

That hurt more than anything else.

But he nodded. "Okay."

She stepped forward and hugged him tightly — the kind of hug that held years inside it.

He held her too, a little too long, maybe, but he didn't care.

When she pulled back, she looked at him one last time and whispered,

"Take care of yourself."

"You too."

She opened the door.

Cold morning air rushed in.

Luna stepped outside.

Dayo stood there, watching her walk away, and didn't close the door until she disappeared around the corner.

The chapter ends here.