From A Producer To A Global Superstar-Chapter 422: Push Back

Sharon didn’t slow down once she stepped out of the room. Her phone was already in her hand, her mind running through the list Dayo had given her, arranging order, tone, and approach before the first call even connected. She didn’t rush blindly into it. She understood how this industry worked. First impressions mattered, and even more than that, clarity mattered. She wasn’t calling as someone asking for a favor. She was calling as a representative of someone whose name already carried weight.

She stopped near the window at the end of the hallway, took a brief second to steady her voice, and placed the first call.

The line rang twice before it connected.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Sharon. I’m calling on behalf of Dayo."

There was a brief pause on the other end, not confusion, but recognition.

"Dayo? As in...?"

"Yes," she said, calm and clear. "He’s working on a project and he would like to collaborate. I wanted to speak with you briefly about it."

The tone on the other side shifted immediately.

"Wait, seriously?"

She kept her tone steady.

"Yes. We’re reaching out directly."

There was a short laugh, surprised, almost disbelieving.

"Yeah, of course. I mean, that’s... yeah, I’m interested. Definitely interested."

She nodded slightly, even though he couldn’t see it.

"Good. I’ll send over more details and we can set up a proper conversation."

"Please do," he said quickly. "I’m in."

She ended the call, not lingering, not overextending the moment.

One down.

She moved on immediately to the next.

This time, it was BNXN.

The response came even faster.

"Dayo reached out?" he said, his tone carrying clear excitement. "Like JD Dayo?."

" Haha yes the JD you know It’s a structured project," Sharon replied. "He’s building something here and he wants the right voices on it."

"I’m definitely open," he said. "Send me everything. Let’s talk."

She marked it mentally.

Two.

She placed another call.

Victony.

Same pattern.

Initial surprise.

Then interest.

Then acceptance.

By the time she reached Blaqbonez, the reaction had almost become predictable, but it still carried energy.

"Say less," he said. "If it’s Dayo, I’m listening."

She allowed herself a small exhale after ending that call.

Everything was moving exactly the way it should.

No resistance.

No hesitation.

Just alignment.

She stepped away from the window, walking slowly now, already drafting follow-up messages in her head. This was working. Not just working, it was moving smoothly. Dayo had been right. The positioning was already there. All that remained was execution.

She sent out confirmation emails, structured, professional, leaving no gaps for doubt or misinterpretation. Everything was clear. Everything was verifiable. This wasn’t some vague industry talk. This was real.

For a moment, she allowed herself to relax slightly.

Then her phone buzzed.

She glanced at it, expecting another confirmation.

It wasn’t.

It was an email.

She opened it without thinking too much.

Her eyes scanned the message quickly.

Then slowed.

Then went back to the beginning.

She read it again.

"Due to unforeseen circumstances, I won’t be able to participate at this time..."

She frowned slightly.

That didn’t make sense.

She had just spoken to him.

He had sounded eager.

Excited even.

She lowered the phone slightly, thinking.

Maybe something had come up.

She didn’t jump to conclusions.

She opened another message.

Another email.

Different name.

Same tone.

"Scheduling conflict..."

Her brows drew together.

That was two.

Back to back.

She checked the timestamps.

Recent.

Very recent.

She scrolled further.

Another message came in.

This time from one of the earlier calls.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the phone as she opened it.

"Apologies, I won’t be able to move forward with this..."

She stopped walking.

Now it wasn’t coincidence.

It was pattern.

She went back through her call history, replaying the conversations in her head.

They had agreed.

All of them.

There was no hesitation in their voices.

No uncertainty.

So what changed?

She inhaled slowly, trying to steady the sudden shift in her thoughts.

Maybe something had gone out.

Maybe someone said something.

She didn’t assume yet.

She moved again, this time faster, dialing another number from the list.

It rang longer this time.

When it finally connected, the tone on the other end was different.

"Hey," the artist said, but the energy wasn’t the same as before.

"Hi, it’s Sharon again," she said. "I just wanted to confirm—"

"Yeah, about that," he cut in, his tone careful now. "I’m not sure I can do it anymore."

Her expression hardened slightly, but her voice stayed calm.

"Did something change?" she asked.

There was a pause.

"Not really," he said. "Just... timing."

That wasn’t true.

She could hear it.

"Alright," she said, not pushing. "I understand."

She ended the call.

Then immediately placed another.

No answer.

Another.

Straight to voicemail.

Another.

Picked up, but brief.

Excuse.

Avoidance.

Deflection.

It was the same thing repeating in different forms.

By the time she lowered her phone again, there was no doubt left.

This wasn’t natural.

This was controlled.

She turned without hesitation and walked back toward Dayo’s office.

Her pace was quicker now, her thoughts sharper, more focused.

She didn’t knock when she entered.

Dayo looked up immediately, reading her expression before she even spoke.

"Something’s wrong," she said.

He didn’t interrupt.

He just watched her.

She stepped closer, placing her phone on the table.

"They all agreed at first," she said. "Every single one. They were interested. Some of them were excited."

He nodded slightly, following.

"And now?" he asked.

"They’ve all pulled back," she said. "Emails, calls, excuses. Same pattern. Same timing."

Dayo leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze steady.

"That’s not coincidence," he said.

"No," Sharon replied. "It’s not."

There was a brief silence.

Not confusion.

Processing.

"They didn’t change their minds," he said.

"Yes it is like they were told to," she replied.

That sat between them.

Clear.

Unavoidable.

Dayo’s expression didn’t shift into frustration.

It sharpened.

"Who?" Sharon asked.

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he reached for his phone.

"We confirm first," he said.

She watched him scroll, then pause.

"Davido," he said.

That made sense.

If anyone would know what was happening behind the surface, it would be him.

Dayo placed the call.

It didn’t ring long.

"Yeah?" Davido’s voice came through.

"It’s me," Dayo said.

There was a brief pause, then recognition.

"Yeah, I know," Davido replied. "Where are you?"

"Can you talk?" Dayo asked.

Another pause.

Then a shift in tone.

"Not on the phone," Davido said. "Come through."

Dayo didn’t ask further.

"Send location," he said.

"It’s already there," Davido replied, then ended the call.

—

The drive was quiet.

Sharon didn’t speak much, not because she didn’t have questions, but because she already knew they would get answers soon.

Dayo sat beside her, his gaze forward, his mind already ahead of the situation.

By the time they arrived, the environment was different from the earlier tension.

Davido’s place carried its usual energy, but there was something restrained about it tonight.

They were let in without delay.

Davido was already waiting.

He didn’t waste time with greetings.

"Sit," he said.

Dayo did.

Sharon remained slightly to the side, observing.

Davido ran a hand over his face briefly, then looked directly at Dayo.

"I’m guessing you’ve started reaching out," he said.

"Yes," Dayo replied.

Davido nodded.

"And they’ve started pulling back," he added.

"Yes."

Davido exhaled quietly.

"Yeah," he said. "I figured."

Dayo didn’t interrupt.

He let him continue.

Davido leaned back slightly, his expression tightening just a bit.

"I got a call," he said. "From my label."

Dayo’s gaze didn’t shift.

"What did they say?" he asked.

Davido let out a small, humorless laugh.

"They didn’t explain much," he said. "Just told me clearly. No collaboration with you."

Sharon’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"Just like that?" she asked.

Davido glanced at her.

"Just like that," he said.

Dayo remained calm.

"No reason?" he asked.

"I asked," Davido said. "They didn’t give one."

There was a brief silence.

Davido leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.

"And it’s not just me," he added. "This didn’t come from nowhere."

Dayo nodded once.

He already understood.

"Pressure," he said.

"Yeah," Davido replied. "And it’s coming from above."

That confirmed it.

This wasn’t local.

This was structured.

Controlled from a higher level.

Davido shook his head slightly.

"I won’t lie," he said. "It’s annoying."

His tone carried it now.

Real frustration.

"First the album issues," he continued. "Now this. Being told who I can and can’t work with."

He looked at Dayo.

"But I’m still under contract," he said. "And you know how that goes."

Dayo nodded.

"I do," he said.

Davido held his gaze.

"I tried to push," he said. "But they’re not budging."

Dayo didn’t react negatively.

He didn’t push back.

He didn’t question him further.

Instead, he nodded once more.

"I understand," he said.

That was it.

No pressure.

No expectation.

Davido exhaled slightly, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

"I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else," he said.

"I wouldn’t," Dayo replied.

That landed.

Sharon watched the exchange quietly.

There was no tension between them.

Just clarity.

Davido leaned back again.

"I’m sorry about this," he said.

Dayo shook his head slightly.

"You don’t need to be," he replied. "This isn’t on you."

Davido gave a small nod.

"Still," he said. "It’s not a good look."

"It’s fine," Dayo said.

He stood up then.

Not abruptly.

Not dramatically.

Just... done.

Davido stood as well.

"If anything changes—" he started.

"I’ll know," Dayo said.

Davido gave a slight nod.

"Yeah," he said.

There was nothing more to add.

No drawn-out ending.

No unnecessary words.

Dayo turned and walked toward the exit.

Sharon followed immediately behind him.

They stepped out into the night air, the door closing quietly behind them.

Neither of them spoke as they walked to the car.

Dayo opened the door, got in, and shut it.

The engine started.

And without another word, they drove off.