From A Producer To A Chapter 16 – BROTHER PROBKEM

Chapter 16: Chapter 16 – BROTHER PROBKEM

-JADS RESTURANTS-

"Mom, where did Dayo go?" Janet asked Abishola while wolfing down the chicken soup in front of her.

Abishola smiled at her youngest child. "He went out for business—that’s all he told . He said when he cos back, he’ll explain more."

She then turned toward her youngest son, who seed lost in thought, a faint bruise showing on his face. "How was school, Jeffery?"

Jeffery, whose mind was occupied with different thoughts, smiled at his mother while subtly trying to cover the bruise with his hand. "Boring as always, nothing much happened—just a regular day."

Abishola knew he was lying, but she had learned from what happened with Dayo not to push too much. Pressing could make things worse. She simply smiled. "Alright, you guys can start packing up—Dayo’s here already."

Dayo walked into the restaurant, which was now devoid of custors. "Mama, how was business today?"

"Fine and slow as usual," Abishola replied, lying through her teeth. In truth, the restaurant had been losing custors steadily.

Dayo smiled knowingly—his mother didn’t want to trouble him. He made a ntal note to help her settle the issue after he was done with his recording work. "Alright, Mama, so where are Jeffery and Janet?"

"They went to pack up... Oh, Dayo, I want you to talk to Jeffery. I think he’s being bullied," Abishola said worriedly.

Dayo looked shocked but nodded before walking to the rest area. There, he saw Janet busy on her phone, while Jeffery sat by the window, staring outside, looking lost.

"Yoo! What are my little ones doing?" Dayo shouted dramatically, making them both flinch. Janet’s eyes lit up, and she ran over to hug him, imdiately launching into a rambling account of her day. Dayo listened quietly, giving her the attention she craved before gently sending her off.

He turned to his brother. They perford their signature handshake—the one they’d created when they were younger. Dayo smiled. "So, you want to talk about it?"

Jeffery flinched slightly but played dumb. "Eh? What are you talking about, bro?"

Dayo sighed at his brother’s pitiful attempt to hide things. He reached out and pointed to the bruise. "Look at , bro. Whatever’s going on, you have to talk to . I’m not here to lecture you—I’m here to understand. Rember, we promised not to hide anything from each other. So, spill."

Jeffery smirked awkwardly. "Man, must you always guilt-trip ?"

Dayo shrugged. "It’s not like you don’t do the sa to ."

They paused, then burst into loud laughter, going on for nearly a minute before catching their breath—only to start again.

Jeffery’s smile was genuine. It had been a while since he’d laughed like that. Sohow, it always felt like Dayo understood him better than anyone. That was why, when Dayo had left, Jeffery had been deeply affected—though he’d never shown it.

"So...?" Dayo prompted as they walked outside together.

Jeffery glanced at his brother—the one he saw as his role model. And it wasn’t hard to see why. Anything Dayo tried, he almost always excelled at. Swimming had been Jeffery’s hobby, but when Dayo tried it for his sake, he’d ended up surpassing Jeffery’s own best tis—tis that were comparable to top athletes on the national level. Dayo had also been top of his class throughout school, and he handled people—especially won—with an easy confidence that gave him a quiet, commanding charm.

"What happened was..." Jeffery sighed, tugging at the frayed edge of his hoodie.

"There’s this senior—Eddie. Twelfth grade. Real jerk. He’s always targeting the quiet kids. Started ssing with

about two weeks ago. At first, it was just dumb stuff—calling

’Teacher’s Pet,’ asking if I was applying to Harvard or sothing. I didn’t care."

Dayo stayed silent, arms folded.

"But it got worse," Jeffery continued, lowering his voice. "Last Friday, he poured Gatorade in my locker. I told Mr. Clarkson, but he just shrugged and told

to ’work it out’ and avoid confrontation—whatever that ans."

Dayo’s jaw tightened.

"Yesterday after gym, I was walking through the back hallway near the bleachers—no caras there. Eddie and two of his guys blocked . They said I needed to ’chill’ and stop making the rest of the class ’look dumb.’ Before I could walk away, Eddie shoved

against the wall and said if I ’act smart’ again, next ti it’ll be worse."

Jeffery touched the bruise on his cheek. "He sucker-punched . One of the others kicked my bag—my phone screen cracked. I didn’t even fight back. Just froze."

He forced a laugh. "Guess I’m not built like you, bro."

Hearing this, Dayo smiled faintly. Sothing similar had happened to him in his past life. The only difference was, he had confided in his father back then, who taught him self-defense. Reporting hadn’t helped because of discrimination, so he had to stop the bullying the hard way. He could still rember it like yesterday—it was the turning point that gave him the confidence to face any problem, knowing there was always a solution.

"It’s alright. I can help you. Starting tomorrow, you’ll train with

in the garage. We move at 6 a.m.—no sluggishness, okay?"

"Yeah... but when did you learn martial arts?" Jeffery asked, genuinely confused. He didn’t rember Dayo having any interest in fighting before.

Dayo almost slipped—forgetting for a mont that this wasn’t his old world. He smirked and flicked Jeffery’s forehead. "Of course, when I was in the U.K. I got stabbed there, rember?"

Jeffery’s eyes widened. "Wait—what happened?"

"It’s true," Dayo said, showing the faint scar. "So guy tried to rob . I refused to give up my wallet, and he stabbed . Luckily, it wasn’t deep. But that’s when I decided to learn martial arts. Best decision I ever made."

Jeffery looked at the scar quietly, a mixture of shock and respect in his eyes. He nodded slowly, and for the first ti that day, so of the tension in his shoulders seed to ease.