From A Producer To A Chapter 53: The Wildcard Winner

Chapter 53: The Wildcard Winner

Frank woke up before dawn. The house was quiet except for the soft breathing of the lady by his side. He reached for his phone and, without thinking, opened the Global Competition leaderboard.

The numbers hit him like a punch.

"Wait—what the—" he muttered, swearing under his breath as he sat up instantly. He refreshed. The page blinked. Sa figures. Clear figures. Dayo had moved two positions up and was now within reach of surpassing him.

He slamd his palm on the counter. A vase trembled, and a few papers scattered on the floor. He paced.

The lady stirred, her voice soft and sleepy. "Eh... are you okay?"

Frank shot her a hard look, his anger barely contained. "Thanks for yesterday. I have your number. I’ll send you sothing."

"I don’t—"

"Forget it," Frank cut her off sharply. "Just forget what you saw today."

He grabbed his phone again and called his agent, Victor.

"Where’s the push?" he barked the mont Victor picked up. "What’s going on? I told you to flood it—sponsored posts, influencers, whatever. We paid for traction!"

"Frank, breathe," Victor said calmly. "We’re on it. We pushed the playlists, the ads. I’ve got three shows lined up—"

"Three shows? That’s not a campaign!" Frank snapped, knocking a glass against the sink. "He’s creeping up. JD—whatever his na is—he’s right behind . This should not be happening!"

"Frank," Victor said more firmly, "calm down. We’ll pull more promo. We’ll call in favors. You stay put and let

handle this, and whatever the case may be, you would qualify, so just calm."

But Frank’s hands still trembled. He paced the study, kicked a pillow, then shoved it back on the couch. He was still number one, but not by much. And in his chest, panic simred.

****

anwhile, Dayo was doing the opposite of panicking. He was grinding.

The air was heavy and humid, but Dayo’s energy stayed high. One week left until the voting closed, and he treated each day like a full-ti job: content, content, content.

Every morning, he stread a short jog. By midday, he was filming quick skits with TikTok and YouTube influencers to reach new audiences. In the evenings, he stread cooking sessions with his family, hopped into gaming lives, joked with fans, and even previewed snippets of Best Part and Lois’s upcoming album.

He kept it natural—no flashy ads, no fake drama. Just consistent, relatable work. People noticed.

One clip in particular blew up: a skit where Dayo pretended to be a newcor trying to order food in Chinatown with broken Mandarin. The delivery guy in the skit (played by an influencer) kept bringing him the wrong dishes until Dayo finally burst out laughing. Fans loved it, captioning it: "This guy is too real ??". The clip trended across platforms, relatable to anyone who had ever struggled in a new country.

And the numbers showed that his followers increased by fold

TikTok:

3.2M (from 9.5M → 12.7M)

Instagram:

2.1M (from 7.1M → 9.2M)

Twitter/X:

1.0M (from 4.2M → 5.2M)

Each collab and skit fed into the next. Clips were remixed, subtitled, and shared across Asia, Africa, and even back in the U.S.

Valery and Wayne stayed with him. "Keep pushing," Valery said. "You’re already number two. Number one is right there."

Dayo nodded, even though his eyes were red. He was tired, but this grind was exactly what made the difference. Unlike Frank, who relied only on PR blasts, Dayo was everywhere—working, streaming, connecting.

Fans noticed too. They started organizing. Fangroups set up voting shifts. Mods shared direct links. Regional groups translated his skits and pushed them abroad. It didn’t feel like an algorithm fight anymore—it felt like a movent.

Midweek, the leaderboard shifted again. Dayo was now within striking distance. Frank’s team countered with paid pushes, but Dayo’s authenticity was sothing money couldn’t buy.

On the final day, the office in Shenzhen was packed. Dayo, Valery, Wayne, and even a few fan volunteers were glued to the screens. Their plan: stream nonstop, coordinate votes across ti zones, and drop one final push.

The skits kept rolling. Darren’s repost earlier in the week still pulled new eyes. The grassroots campaign built to a boiling point.

At 8:12 p.m. local ti, the numbers crept closer:

[Leaderboard — Live Update]

Frank Kane (USA) — 21.9M votes

Dayo Jason (Nigeria/USA) — 21.95M votes

The room went silent. Thousands of votes per minute flooded in. Dayo opened a live stream, piano at his side, smiling at more than 10 million viewers. "One shot left," he said. "If you believe in , this is it. Vote now. Share now."

The chat exploded. Fans obeyed.

On the other side, Frank threw money at everything—paid ads, influencers, late-night appearances—but it was like pouring water into the ocean. Nothing stuck.

Then the numbers flipped after more than 10 hours of streaming.

[Leaderboard — Live Update]

Dayo Jason — 22.45M votes

Frank Kane — 22.12M votes

The office erupted. Wayne shouted. Valery laughed until she cried. Dayo sat frozen for a mont, then finally smiled—wide, relieved, exhausted.

Back in his penthouse, Frank’s agent sighed, finally sitting down. "We’ll regroup," he said hollowly. "Michael will decide the next move."

Frank leaned back, chest heaving. The yelling had stopped. He told himself he’d qualified regardless, but the sting of losing burned deep.

By midnight, the system locked in the results:

Global Competition – Wildcard Finalists (Qualified)

1. Dayo Jason (Nigeria/USA) – Rank 1

2. Frank Kane (USA) – Rank 2

3. Sophia Zhang (China) – Rank 3

Social dia exploded. Hashtags trended worldwide. The JD Label office was a ss of hugs and tears. Wayne and Valery embraced Dayo like he was family.

He called Vale first. Vale’s voice was loud and laughing: "You did it, brother. You earned it."

"Not

alone," Dayo replied, smiling. "All of us."

He thought of the week—the skits, the streams, the sleepless nights, Darren’s repost, Vale’s backing. It was ssy, exhausting, and relentless. But it worked.

At 3 a.m., Dayo finally collapsed into bed. For the first ti, he wasn’t afraid of his stats dropping back to nothing. He slept with the leaderboard burned into his mind and the applause of the world echoing in his ears.

The Global Competition had just begun, but for now, he had won the week.