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Chapter 219: Eiffel Tower

After everything finally settled—the awards, the ceremony, the endless congratulations—Dayo stood in the hotel lobby with his family and felt sothing rare: calm.

They were ant to leave Paris that night, but as he looked at his parents and siblings, he spoke up.

"Why don’t we stay one more day?" Dayo said. "Just one. No schedule."

His mother looked surprised. "One more day?"

"Yes," he replied. "We didn’t really enjoy the city."

"And more so, we haven’t gone to the Eiffel Tower," Janet said, literally jumping, and even his brother Jeffrey nodded.

Dayo smiled. "So you want to go to the Eiffel Tower?"

"Yes," Janet nodded.

He looked at his parents, whose eyes were bright with excitent—they had been wanting to go too.

After a short discussion, they agreed.

---

The next morning, Janet was surprisingly the first to wake up. She was usually the last, but the visit to the tower seed to be on her mind.

After dragging everyone up, they finally got dressed.

Eiffel Tower.

The place was crowded with tourists from all over the world. Caras clicked constantly, voices filled the air, and people moved in clusters.

The crowd was larger than usual—after all, the Olympics had just been held in Paris, doubling the number of visitors.

Dayo dressed simply, hoping to blend in. For a while, it worked.

They walked around, took pictures, laughed, and admired the structure from below.

Then soone noticed him.

A woman stopped suddenly, staring.

"Mon Dieu..." she whispered.

She stepped closer, clearly nervous. "C’est... c’est vous?"

Before she could go further, Dayo smiled.

"Oui," he replied calmly.

Her eyes widened. "Vous parlez fran??ais?"

"Un peu," Dayo answered.

She laughed, clearly excited. "Jason Dayo. Olympic Order. Trois médailles d’or. Incroyable."

"rci," Dayo said. "C’est un honneur."

She asked for a picture. He agreed. After a short exchange, they parted politely.

The family just watched the whole interaction, tired of being surprised.

Janet walked up to Dayo and asked, "Bro, is there any language you can’t speak?"

Hearing this, the whole family laughed. After all, they had been shocked by Dayo too many tis.

"There are a few I don’t know," Dayo said, petting Janet’s head.

She looked lost. "How did you learn all of these languages?"

Dayo looked serious, then said, "DUOLINGO."

The family laughed again, while Janet pouted.

Dayo smiled as a few people noticed him and ca over for autographs and pictures. They were polite and nice, which gave him a small breather.

His mother exhaled. "That could’ve gone worse."

Dayo nodded. "Yeah."

They planned to stay until night to watch the Eiffel Tower’s dazzling light display.

After a few tours, they were famished, so they enjoyed fine dining at Le Jules Verne and grabbed snacks at the Eiffel Tower Café.

Afterward, they visited the observation decks, taking in breathtaking views of Paris from the top. The view was so stunning that even Dayo lost his composure. Janet’s face flushed red with excitent, and their parents held each other, admiring the city below.

Seeing this, Dayo tapped Jeffrey, who was also lost in the view, and pointed at their parents. This brought a smile to his face. They both took out their phones and captured the beautiful scene.

After taking a few pictures of themselves and the surroundings, they went to Trocadéro Esplanade.

The Trocadéro Esplanade, located opposite the Eiffel Tower, offers a stunning panoramic view—especially beautiful at night when the tower is illuminated.

They waited a bit as the sun began to set. Everyone gathered around, watching it slowly descend. The golden sunlight lingered for a few minutes.

As evening approached, the sky slowly darkened.

Then it happened.

The Eiffel Tower lit up.

Golden lights flickered to life from the base upward, like a wave of fire climbing steel. Thousands of tiny bulbs shimred at once, pulsing softly against the night sky. Gasps rippled through the crowd. Phones rose instinctively. For many, it was their first ti seeing it.

Even Dayo froze.

"It’s beautiful..." Janet whispered.

Their parents stood close together, hands intertwined, silent in awe.

Around them, strangers reacted the sa way—soft laughter, whispered amazent, quiet applause.

For a mont, it felt like the entire city had stopped just to watch the tower glow.

Dayo exhaled slowly. "Alright. Maybe it’s ti to head back."

"Please!" Janet grabbed his arm imdiately. "Let’s go up. Just once more. I’m recording everything—I’m making a docuntary about our ti in Paris."

Dayo looked at his parents.

They smiled.

"Let her," his mother said gently.

"Yeah," his father added. "This mont won’t co again."

Dayo nodded. "Alright."

As they moved through the area again, music drifted through the crowd.

A street musician was playing softly nearby.

A accordion.

The sound stirred sothing in Dayo.

A mory.

A song he’d heard years ago, back when he went tk Paris.

Lost in thought, he accidentally bumped into soone.

"Oh—sorry," he said quickly.

He looked up.

It was the sa woman from earlier.

The one who asked for his autograph.

Her face lit up. "You again!"

This ti, she switched to English. "I didn’t expect to see you twice tonight."

She introduced her friends. Two of them recognized him imdiately.

"OMG it’s JD your last album was fire and I watched your race at the Olympics crazy."

"I’ve listened to your music," one said. "Your love songs are beautiful."

Jeffery, anwhile, had wandered off, chatting animatedly with one of the won’s younger sisters. Dayo noticed and just shook his head.

Then one of them smiled shyly.

"Dayo... would you play sothing for us?"

He hesitated—then smiled.

"Sure. Why not?"

Janet imdiately grabbed his phone. "Perfect. This goes in the docuntary."

She collected Dayo’s phone and She hit record on live.

Dayo stepped forward had a few talk eith the street perforr and took the guitar.

The first chord rang out.

Clear. Confident.

The difference was instant.

Conversations nearby faded. People slowed. So stopped completely.

The Effiel Tower beca quite and calm.

Then Dayo sang.

***

Intro

French:

Des yeux qui font baisser les miensUn rire qui se perd sur sa bouche

English:

Eyes that make mine look away

A laugh that gets lost on her mouth"

Dayo took his ti as he sang in a soft tone that lt the heart of those listening and the accordion in his hands move like magic.

---

Verse

French:

Quand il

prend dans ses brasIl

parle tout basJe vois la vie en rose

English:

Your footsteps echo through my quiet nights,

Even far away, I still feel your soul.

At this point Dayo moved around singing with a dazzling smile on his face he took a rose from a vendor and gave to a lady who just looked lost.

---

Chorus

French:

Des nuits d’amour à ne plus en finirUn grand bonheur qui prend sa placeDes ennuis, des chagrins, s’effacent

English:

If you fall, I’ll be there,

My love will never leave you.

The accordion danced in his hands as he switched closing his eyes singing with his heart. The crowd hissed as they felt chills hearing him.

---

Bridge

French:

Quand il

prend dans ses bras

Qu’il

parle tout bas

Je vois la vie en rose

Il

dit des mots d’amour

English:

The world could burn around us,

I’d still stand tall—for us.

---

Final Chorus

French:

Sous ce ciel, je fais ce v??u,

Toi et moi, envers et mieux.

English:

Under this sky, I make this vow,

You and —now and always.

Lalala,

lalaLala,

lalaLa, la, la, la

---

As Dayo sang the last part he opened his eyes.

Silence followed the final note.

Then applause erupted.

Loud. Genuine. Uncontrolled.

So people cheered. Others stared, stunned. Phones were raised everywhere now.

"Who is that?"

"I don’t even understand French, but that was amazing."

"His voice..."

"I know him his JD he won 3 gold in the Olympics so how.....?"

Few recognized Dayo but everyone had sothing in common all were emotionally so even cried while not even understanding a thing he said.

When it ca to music language wasn’t a barrier and Dayo just proved it again.

Janet lowered the phone, eyes wide. "That was insane."

Dayo handed the accordion back, slightly breathless.

Above them, the Eiffel Tower continued to glow—golden, steady, unforgettable.

And for that night, Paris listened.

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