"So, Vivian, I hear Dayo has woken up?"
Paul leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the artist sitting before him.
"Yes," Vivian said, a spark of excitement lighting her eyes. "That's why I feel we should strike while the iron is hot. The doctor said Dayo is asking to be discharged today. We should move quickly before he regains too much control of the narrative."
Paul tapped his fingers against the table, thinking. "…Hmm. You're right. I'll call a few of my reporter friends. We will give them a story so hard that they can't resist."
Vivian's lips curved into a bright smile. She could already imagine the headlines, the scandal, the sympathy flooding in, and all that comes with popularity and exposure. This was how the industry worked: sob stories are gold and can be used as a way to sell records, and careers were built on the downfall of the naive. She felt no guilt. To her, it was Dayo's fault for being too slow and not smart enough to protect what was his.
***
Meanwhile, in the hospital, a doctor was giving Dayo a check-up.
"Mr. Dayo, how are you feeling today?" the doctor asked, shining a light into his eyes.
"I'm good, doctor. Much better now," Dayo said with a small, polite smile.
Still, he could feel the way the doctor looked at him, curious, wary, maybe even judging. He knew why. The scandal had spread, and his name had been dragged through the mud. It made him angry, but it also hardened his resolve.
"So… I want to leave today. Is that possible?" Dayo asked.
The doctor hesitated. "…Yes. But the people who brought you in want to see you before you go."
Dayo's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "Alright. Let them come. I'll wait."
He had already predicted this move. They wanted to play the game, and he was ready.
Not long after the doctor left, the door to his ward opened, and in walked Vivian and Paul. Vivian wore her best mask of concern, while Paul exuded the air of an agent ready to control the situation.
Dayo sat casually on the bed, greeting them with a calm smile. "Good afternoon, Vivian. Paul. The doctor said you wanted to see me?"
"....."
"...."
For a moment, both of them froze. This wasn't the reaction they had expected. Vivian, especially, felt a shiver down her spine. She had known Dayo for three years. She had seen his insecurities and knew he was soft. In her mind, he was an emotionally weak man, easy to manipulate.
Paul recovered first, stepping forward with a stern voice and a frown on his face. "You can still smile after what you've done to my artist?"
Dayo tilted his head slightly, smirking. "Oh? And what exactly did I do to your client, Mr. Agent?"
Vivian stepped forward dramatically, her voice rising. "What nonsense are you playing at, Dayo?! After everything you did to me, you still claim innocence?" Crocodile tears welled in her eyes as she pointed to the faint injuries on her arm and face.
Dayo's smirk deepened. He raised a hand in mock applause. "Impressive. Truly. But if you're going to accuse me… do you have any evidence to prove it?"
Vivian faltered for a split second. Her heart skipped. 'Does he… have something?'
'No. Impossible. Paul said everything was handled. There's no way he has evidence.' She turned to Paul for reassurance.
Paul sneered. "For someone accused, you've got a lot of nerve asking for evidence. Do you have any proof yourself?"
"Oh, I have more than proof," Dayo said, leaning back against the headboard with a calm confidence that chilled the room. "I have everything I need."
Both of them froze.
Paul forced a laugh. "Hahaha… What evidence? Show me, then. Let's see this 'proof' you're so confident about."
"Sure."
Dayo reached for a small system tablet by his bedside, inserted the flash drive, and played the footage he had retrieved from the hotel's CCTV.
The room turned to ice.
Vivian's breath caught in her throat as the screen showed the clear evidence of the setup of everything, the scene of how the tampered drink was given to Dayo, the secret movements of moving, and the actions that proved she and Paul had orchestrated the entire scandal. Sweat rolled down Paul's temple as he watched the truth play out. His throat went dry.
In desperation, Paul tried reaching for the flash drive, but Dayo was faster. He plucked it from the laptop and placed it between his fingers with a mocking smirk, shaking his head.
"Where… where did you get this?" Paul stammered.
"Oh," Dayo said casually, "you should've already received a call about it."
Paul's eyes widened as the pieces clicked. "You… you went to the hotel? You were the one fishing around…"
He felt his stomach drop. That idiot said the footage was gone. He said only a top-level expert could retrieve it. Don't tell me…
"Wait… you know computers?" Paul said, his voice trembling with disbelief.
Dayo shrugged. "Let's just say I know enough. Now, here's the fun part. I can give this to your competitors, and I'm very sure they'd love to have a little leverage on UC Label."
Paul's composure cracked. "D-don't! Don't do anything rash, Dayo. We can… talk about this."
Vivian fell to her knees, performing her act once more. Tears streamed down her face as she begged, "Please, Dayo… don't do this to me…"
Dayo's eyes darkened, his voice cold. "Oh, now you want to talk? When you tried to destroy my name and reputation, and now you're begging?" He exhaled slowly, controlling his rising irritation. "I'm not out to ruin you, at least not yet. But you'll make this right."
Paul caught the hint immediately. "Alright. I understand. Let me make a call."
He stepped outside, dialing his superior with shaky hands. "Hello, sir… we have a situation."
On the other end, Mr. Uric's voice roared through the line.
"What is wrong with you, Paul?! Can't you handle a teenager? Deal with it. Then come see me."
"Yes, sir…"
Paul returned to the hospital room, his voice tight. "We're willing to offer you a sum of one hundred thousand dollars for the evidence."
Dayo raised an eyebrow, then burst out laughing. "Hahaha! A hundred thousand? Do you take me for a fool?"
His voice dropped, icy and calm. "If this reaches the media, you can forget about covering it up. Paul, you'll be in jail for drugging me—at least five years. Vivian, you might get a year for false accusations and theft. And UC Label? Once this leaks, your competitors will tear you apart."
He leaned forward, his tone like steel. "Let's not forget about my songs. The ones Vivian stole. I have evidence to dispute the copyright, and if I push it, every dime you made from them will come to me."
Paul clenched his fists. He hadn't expected the boy he once dismissed as weak to be this prepared, this dangerous. "…Alright, Dayo. How much do you want?"
Dayo didn't hesitate. "One million dollars. Nothing less."