From A Producer To A Chapter 10 – Piano Test

Chapter 10: Chapter 10 – Piano Test

Chapter 10 – Piano Test

Misha looked at Dayo, a bit speechless. She didn’t believe he knew much about instrunts, but she still refused to believe he actually ca to purchase them—especially because the instrunts he ntioned were mid-range professional ones, each costing nothing less than $10,000 to $15,000.

"So... do you have them?" Dayo’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah, this way, sir," she said, leading him forward while trying to think of a way to expose this supposed scam. That was the thought running through her mind as she guided Dayo toward where the instrunts were kept.

A sudden idea crossed her mind—just because Dayo knew the instrunt nas didn’t an he could play them. She considered telling him to play sothing, but thought it might co off as rude. Then she looked at Eva, who was already watching Dayo with curious eyes, and her expression lit up with a plan.

Dayo, spotting all the instrunts, walked forward, searching for sothing familiar. He picked up a wooden-bodied guitar and slung it behind him. Seeing that it fit him well, he fiddled with the strings, producing a small lody. Satisfied, he nodded and moved toward the piano section.

anwhile, Misha walked to the desk, about to speak, when she heard the few notes Dayo had just played. Her eyes widened—not just because of the sound, but because the difficulty of the piece was no joke. This ant he wasn’t just throwing nas around—he knew his instrunts.

Her surprise turned into genuine interest. Turning to Eva, she whispered, telling her to get Dayo to play sothing.

Dayo spotted a familiar keyboard, walked toward it, and sat down. He tested the keys, pressing a few to get a feel for them.

"Why don’t you play sothing?" Eva said, standing beside him.

Dayo smirked, his tone playful. "Was it the request of that cold-faced boss of yours?"

Eva almost burst into laughter hearing him call her boss that, but she just nodded.

"I’ll play sothing for you, not for her," Dayo said with a cheeky smile.

He thought about what to play that would suit his voice, as he was still getting used to singing without constraint. A certain popular song in this world ca to mind—one that people here would instantly recognize. He quickly planned a few changes in his head, then sat upright, taking a deep breath.

Dayo’s fingers ran across the ivory keys, testing their weight and spring, before settling into a rhythm—slow, smooth, and soulful. The room began to quiet, the low murmur of custors fading beneath the warm resonance of the Yamaha keys.

[Verse 1]

I wasn’t lookin’, just passin’ ti,

Playin’ these keys, hummin’ a line.

Then you walked in, and I missed a beat,

Blad it on the heat—or maybe your feet.

He began lightly, teasing the surface of the lody like ripples on a still lake. Each note rolled out with intentional care—warm and playful, like the start of a smile. Misha froze; she recognized the song instantly, and what shocked her was how well he played it.

[Chorus 1]

You walked in like a lody,

Not too loud, just stuck with .

Ain’t sayin’ love, ain’t makin’ plans,

Just wonderin’ what’s in your hands.

A smooth slide down the keys, his left hand swaying gently. He paused, landing on a warm, steady chord, and sang slowly while looking at Eva with a teasing glint.

’Cause so songs don’t ask for much...

Just a smile, a laugh, and a little touch.’

He let the chord ring before transitioning into a slightly brighter key. By now, the store was completely quiet—custors stood frozen, listening to Dayo sing the familiar tune, though with different words.

[Verse 2]

I ain’t a poet, I don’t write lines,

But your laugh got

feelin’ rhys.

You stood there, caught

off guard,

Now here I am, playin’ from the heart.

He added a short lodic fill—soft yet heartfelt, a touch of skill subtly shining through. He chuckled, echoing the line with a playful skip of notes. Eva stood with her mouth slightly open, unable to comprehend how Dayo could play this well.

[Chorus 2]

You walked in like a Sunday breeze,

Slow and sweet, just enough to tease.

Maybe it’s nothin’, maybe it’s fate,

But I’m glad I didn’t make you wait.

He shifted to gentle chords, barely brushing the last few notes. His voice lowered, sincere now, emotion painting his expression.

’Cause so songs just write themselves...

When the right one walks in and rings the bells.’

Softly, he transitioned into the bridge—improvised but perfectly controlled.

[Bridge]

And if you don’t stay, that’s okay—

This tune still made my day.

A slow descending scale, flicking upward at the end like hope. He glanced at Eva—her phone now recording him—her cheeks blushing a deep red, like fresh-plucked tomatoes.

’I’ll play it back when the night is slow,

Think of a girl I used to know...’

He let the line hang in the air before easing into the final chorus.

[Final Chorus]

You walked in, just bein’ you,

Turned a quiet song into sothin’ new.

Ain’t about love, ain’t about fa,

Just a tune with your na.

The piano swayed like a breeze through curtains. A few custors’ eyes turned red as they reminisced about old tis.

’Cause so hearts don’t make a sound...

Till soone like you cos around.’

The last arpeggio rang out, lingering in the silence. Dayo finally raised his head, having poured so much emotion into the performance that it left a mark on everyone listening.

DING!

[Your singing has improved a bit.]

For a mont, there was only silence. Then the store erupted in applause and cheers. Custors sward him, asking for his social handles. A few girls even tried to flirt—one bold enough to grab his ass.

’WTF? This is harassnt,’ Dayo thought, but he handled it smoothly, polite without encouraging too much. Though he’d never experienced crowd attention quite like this, he liked it—answering questions and smiling genuinely at everyone.

From a distance, Misha watched with her arms folded. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, but she couldn’t deny it—the sound was too natural, too genuine to be a stunt. The fact that he had modified the lyrics so seamlessly impressed her even more.

Eva’s cheeks were still crimson. "You’re... really good," she said softly, as if unsure whether she ant the music or the man.

Dayo gave her a warm smile—the sa bright one he had when he walked in. "I told you," he said, standing slowly, "I’m only this smooth when I see an angel."