From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 408: Parents?

The hospital corridor did not stay quiet for long.

At first, it was only the sound of footsteps moving past, nurses speaking in quick low voices, trolleys rolling over the tiled floor, and the sharp smell of antiseptic that never really left a place like that. Dayo stayed where he was, one hand in his pocket, the other resting loosely by his side, his eyes fixed on the doors the boy had been taken through. Sharon stood a few feet away, but unlike him, she could not stay still. She checked the hallway, checked the nurses’ station, checked her phone, then looked back toward the doors again as if staring harder would make the doctors come out faster.

A nurse in pale blue scrubs came through the corridor carrying a file, and Sharon stepped toward her at once.

"Please, the boy that was brought in from the road accident, has the doctor said anything else?"

The nurse recognized them now. She had seen Dayo bring the student in with his shirt stained from carrying him and Sharon arriving right behind him, giving instructions like someone trying very hard not to lose control. Her expression softened.

"They are still attending to him. He is conscious. That is a good sign."

Sharon nodded, but the tension in her shoulders did not leave.

"Does he need surgery?"

"We are still assessing," the nurse replied. "The doctor will speak to you when they are done."

Sharon stepped back and thanked her, though the answer did very little to settle her mind. She turned and looked at Dayo.

"You should sit down for a moment."

"I’m fine."

She gave him a long look. "You always say that."

Dayo did not reply. His eyes were still on the doors. Sharon knew him well enough to understand what that meant. He was already replaying everything. The sound of the brakes. The boy in the air. The angle of the leg. The blood. The split second where the whole street had frozen before panic took over.

She exhaled slowly and moved to stand closer to him. For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then the noise in the corridor changed.

Fast footsteps.

More than one person.

Someone asking questions before even reaching the desk.

"Where is he? Where is my son? They said my son is here!"

A woman’s voice, shaky and rising, cut through the hospital noise so sharply that even two nurses at the far end turned. A man came in right behind her, breathing hard, one hand trying to steady her and the other gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles had gone pale. He looked like someone who had run the whole way there and would have kept running if the hospital had been farther.

The woman saw the nurses’ station and rushed forward.

"My son, please, where is my son? They said accident. They said road accident. Where is he? Where did you keep him?"

The nurse behind the desk stood up immediately.

"Madam, please calm down."

"Don’t tell me to calm down. Where is my child?"

Her voice cracked on the last word. She was trying to hold herself together and failing in real time.

The man stepped in, his own voice tighter, more controlled, but only barely.

"Please, we’re the parents. We were called from his school. They said somebody brought him here. We just need to know his condition."

The nurse gestured toward the seats, but the mother did not sit. She stood there trembling, eyes wet, one hand pressed to her chest, the other already reaching out as if she could pull the answer from someone by force.

Dayo took a step forward then, not dramatic, not sudden. Just enough for the nurse to notice and nod toward him.

"He is the one that brought your son in."

The parents turned at once.

For a second, they were too overwhelmed to register who exactly they were looking at. They only saw the person closest to the center of the worst moment of their day.

The father moved first.

"You brought him?"

Dayo nodded once. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"Yes. He was hit outside by the road. We brought him here immediately."

The mother took two steps toward him, then stopped, covering her mouth with one hand. Her voice had dropped now, gone hoarse from panic.

"He was awake? Did he talk? Was he bleeding too much? God, was he calling anybody? Did he say anything?"

Dayo answered each question carefully.

"He was conscious. He was in pain, but he stayed responsive. They attended to him quickly once we got here."

The father swallowed hard, nodding as if he needed every word to stay upright.

"And you brought him yourself?"

"Yes."

The mother looked at him again, this time actually seeing him. The face. The height. The composure. Something clicked, but shock and fear still came first. Her knees gave a little, and she sat down abruptly on the nearest plastic chair, pressing both palms to her forehead.

"God abeg," she whispered. Then louder, with tears finally breaking free, "God abeg, let my son be fine. God abeg."

Sharon stepped closer without thinking. She crouched slightly beside the woman and spoke softly.

"They said he is stable. They’re still checking him, but they said he is responding well."

The woman nodded, though it was clear she was not really hearing yet. The father remained standing, but his breathing was uneven now. He looked at Dayo, at Sharon, then back toward the treatment area.

The doctor came out a few minutes later, removing one glove as he walked.

"Family of the boy from the road accident?"

Both parents were on their feet before he finished the sentence.

"Doctor, how is he?"

"He’s stable," the doctor said. "There is no internal bleeding from what we’ve seen so far. He has a fracture in his leg and some bruising, but he is out of immediate danger."

The mother burst into tears properly then. Not quiet crying. Real relief. The kind that leaves a person weak. She leaned into her husband, who closed his eyes and let out a breath that sounded like it had been trapped in his body the whole time.

The doctor continued with instructions about scans, observation, and the next few hours. The father listened carefully, asking clear questions. The mother only kept repeating, "Thank you, doctor. Thank you, doctor."

When the doctor left, the father turned back to Dayo and Sharon.

"I don’t even know what to say."

The mother moved toward Dayo before anyone could stop her. She bent slightly, as if she wanted to kneel.

Dayo reached out immediately.

"Please don’t do that."

She looked up at him through tears.

"You saved my son."

"I just did what was necessary."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not everybody would have done it. People would stand and watch. Some would record. Some would start discussing who was wrong. But you carried him here."

The father nodded slowly, voice quieter now.

"We heard what happened from somebody at the school gate. They said there was confusion everywhere. If you had left him there waiting..."

He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to.

Sharon looked away briefly. She had already imagined that part herself and hated it.

The mother finally noticed Sharon properly.

"And you too. Thank you."

Sharon shook her head. "It’s okay."

But her eyes had gone red. She looked down quickly so no one would see it too clearly.

A nurse came to tell the parents they could see the boy one at a time. The mother rushed in first, still wiping her face with the edge of her wrapper as she went. The father stayed back long enough to face Dayo fully again.

"Please, at least tell me your name."

Dayo hesitated for only a second.

"Dayo."

The father stared, and this time recognition hit him fully.

"Dayo... JD?"

Sharon almost smiled despite everything. There it was. The second part of the shock.

The father let out a short breath and shook his head.

"I knew I had seen your face before. But honestly, in all this, that thing didn’t even enter my mind."

Dayo nodded. "That’s fine."

The father looked at him with something deeper than admiration now. A kind of stunned respect.

"I won’t forget this."

Dayo only gave a small nod, then looked toward the room where the boy had been taken.

Neither would he.

They stayed a while longer after that. Not for cameras. Not because anyone asked. Just because leaving immediately felt wrong.

That was how the media found out.

Not from Dayo.

Not from Sharon.

From people.

A shaky video taken from across the road showed the exact moment after the impact. The boy on the ground. The crowd forming. Dayo pushing through and kneeling without hesitation. Another clip, more blurred, showed him getting into the back seat beside the injured student while Sharon shouted instructions to follow the car and clear the road. Then a third clip surfaced from the hospital entrance, filmed by somebody standing under the shade near the gate. It showed the car stopping, doors opening, hospital workers running out, and Dayo helping move the boy onto the stretcher with blood on his sleeve from lifting him.

A/N: I am back not leaving thansk for your support this few days