From A Producer To A Global Superstar

Chapter 467: Announcing Result

The door opened.

Sheun stepped out, clipboard in hand, his expression carrying nothing that either of them could read. He looked at Frosh, then at Faye, then back at the studio where Jinad and Akin were already packing equipment, their movements quick and purposeful.

The whole walkway went as quite as graveyard all the aspiring artist all went quite as they saw Sheun with the clipboard in his hands it felt like it was teacher holding your report card about to show their parents.

Unknowingly they all sat upright some were already sweating on their palms, nervousness slipped in as there were adjusting their clothes and seating positions as if that would be what they would judge them for.

Sheun walked up to the artist slowly and stopped few step in front of them and looked straight at the artist who were obviously nervous.

Sheun coughed to get the attention of everyone.

"Good afternoon once again to you all. Like I said earlier, not everyone here will be qualified or picked for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

His voice was steady. Not harsh. Not soft. Just flat enough that nobody could read ahead of him.

The room held still.

Frosh felt the edge of his notebook press into his palm. He hadn’t realized how tight he was holding it until now. The paper had bent slightly under his grip. He loosened it just a little, then tightened again without meaning to.

Beside him, Faye sat upright, her hands resting lightly on her thighs, but her fingers were moving—small, controlled taps against the fabric of her jeans. If someone wasn’t watching closely, they wouldn’t notice. But Frosh noticed.

Everyone was pretending to be calm.

Nobody was.

Sheun glanced down at the clipboard.

"We go start with the first set," he said.

No buildup. No warning.

He started calling names.

"Tolu."

A guy in the second row flinched slightly before standing up. He nodded once, like he already knew, like he had prepared himself for this exact moment.

"Amaka."

A girl near the wall closed her eyes briefly before getting up. Her lips pressed together tight, holding something back.

"Kenny... Idris... Musa..."

The names came one after the other. Clean. Even. No pause between them.

Each name landed like a tap on glass. Sharp. Final.

One by one, people stood.

Some adjusted their clothes before moving, like that still mattered. Some didn’t look at anyone. One guy forced a small smile as he passed the others, like he was trying to prove something to himself more than anyone else.

No one argued.

No one asked why.

They just moved.

Frosh counted without meaning to.

Five.

Seven.

Ten.

The room was thinning.

A girl near the door hesitated after her name was called, like she wanted to say something, like maybe there had been a mistake. But she swallowed it and stepped out anyway.

Sheun didn’t look up while reading.

When he finished the first set of names, he raised his head.

"For those called," he said, his tone unchanged, "thank you for coming out. We appreciate the time, the effort. This one no be your stop yet, but that no mean say the road end."

A small pause.

"Keep working."

There was no pity in it. Just truth.

From the side, a man stepped forward—someone none of them had really noticed before. He held a small stack of envelopes. He began handing them to the people who had been called.

One by one.

Quietly.

The shift in the room was immediate.

Surprise flickered across a few faces. Not relief. Not joy. Just... something unexpected after all it’s never heard of that after an interview or audition and after failing to give the peole

The girl who had hesitated earlier accepted hers with both hands. She nodded, murmured something under her breath, and walked out.

The others followed.

Shoes against tile.

A chair scraping lightly.

The soft sound of the door opening and closing again.

And then they were gone.

The room felt bigger now.

Too big.

Frosh became aware of the empty chairs. The spaces where people had been sitting just minutes ago. The air felt different, like something had been pulled out of it.

He looked around.

Fewer faces now.

Much fewer.

His heartbeat picked up.

No one spoke.

No one celebrated.

Because nobody had been told anything yet.

They were just... still here.

Faye shifted slightly beside him, adjusting the strap of her bag where it rested against her leg. Her eyes moved across the room, counting, measuring.

Then she glanced at him.

Just for a second.

Not a smile. Not relief.

Just confirmation.

We’re still here.

Frosh gave the smallest nod back.

Sheun looked at the remaining group.

His eyes moved across them slowly this time. Taking them in.

Jinad and Akin had stepped out of the studio now, standing behind him. Jinad had his hands folded, his expression thoughtful. Akin’s gaze was sharper, more precise, moving from one face to another like he was already working through something in his head.

They weren’t rushing anymore.

That alone said everything.

Sheun tapped the clipboard lightly against his palm.

Then he spoke.

"If I call your name now... step forward."

The words dropped into the room and settled there.

Heavy.

Final.

He didn’t wait long.

"Frosh."

For a split second, Frosh didn’t move.

The name echoed in his head like it had been said from far away.

Then his body caught up.

He stood.

Slowly.

Not dramatic. Not rushed.

His shoulders dropped just a fraction, like something inside him had finally loosened its grip. He stepped forward, the floor solid under his feet in a way it hadn’t been before.

He didn’t look back.

He didn’t look around.

He just moved.

"Faye."

Her reaction was quieter.

She closed her eyes.

Just for a heartbeat.

Then opened them again.

And stood.

Her movements were controlled, deliberate. She adjusted her bag once, then stepped forward to stand a short distance from Frosh.

Not beside him.

Not yet.

But close enough.

"Kazeem."

A guy from the far end blinked in surprise. He let out a short breath, almost a laugh, before catching himself. He stood quickly, running a hand through his hair, and joined them.

"Amara."

The tall girl with the soft voice looked momentarily frozen, like she hadn’t expected it. Then she gathered herself, stood, and walked forward with careful steps.

"Tunde."

The last name came with no hesitation.

The older one.

He nodded once, like he had accepted something long before this moment, and stood to join the others.

Five.

That was it.

No extra names.

No second chances.

The rest of the room stayed seated.

And in that silence, the reality settled.

Those left behind knew.

No one needed to say it.

A chair creaked somewhere.

Someone exhaled sharply.

One of the remaining artists shook his head slightly, staring at the floor. Another leaned back, eyes closed, like he was trying to process it without letting it show.

Sheun didn’t drag it out.

"For the rest of you," he said, turning his attention back to them, "thank you. We go keep your details. If anything come up, we go reach out."

No apology.

No explanation.

Just closure.

This time, no envelopes.

Just understanding.

They began to rise slowly.

Some nodded politely.

Some avoided eye contact completely.

One guy lingered a second longer than necessary, his eyes flicking toward the five standing in front before he finally turned and walked out.

The door opened.

Closed.

Opened again.

Closed again.

Until the room was empty except for the five.

And Sheun.

And Jinad.

And Akin.

The silence that followed was different.

Not heavy.

Focused.

The five stood there, spaced unevenly, still processing what had just happened.

Strangers.

But no longer separate.

Frosh shifted his weight slightly, adjusting his grip on his notebook. He glanced sideways.

Faye was looking straight ahead, but her jaw had softened. The tension in her shoulders wasn’t gone, but it had changed shape.

She felt it too.

Across from them, Kazeem let out a quiet breath through his nose, like he was still trying to convince himself this was real. Amara clasped her hands together lightly, her fingers interlocking and releasing. Tunde stood still, calm, but his eyes were sharper now.

Sheun stepped closer.

"You five," he said, looking at them one by one, "this na the people we go start with."

He let that sit.

Then continued.

"We no get big budget."

A small shift in posture from Kazeem.

"We no get big names backing us."

Jinad’s gaze flicked briefly toward Sheun, then back to the group.

"We no go promise you say everything go smooth."

Akin crossed his arms, nodding once.

Sheun’s voice stayed level.

"What we get... na opportunity."

He took a step closer.

"Opportunity to build something from ground. From nothing."

His eyes moved across them again.

"If na comfort you dey find... this no be am."

The words weren’t harsh.

Just honest.

"If na quick fame... this no be am."

Frosh felt something settle deeper in his chest.

"If na real you want..." Sheun paused, just enough. "Then you fit stay."

No one spoke.

But no one stepped back.

That was answer enough.

Jinad stepped forward slightly, his hands now resting on his hips.

"We go work you," he said simply. "You go work yourself. No shortcuts."

Akin added, his voice quieter but firm, "We dey build sound. Identity. Not noise."

The five listened.

Really listened.

Because this part mattered more than the selection.

This was what came after.

Sheun nodded once, like a decision had just been confirmed.

"First session," he said, "two days from now."

Frosh’s grip tightened again.

"Be ready."

No further explanation.

No schedule breakdown.

Just that.

Two days.

Faye shifted her weight slightly, the strap of her bag pressing into her shoulder. She glanced at Frosh again, just briefly.

This time, there was something different in it.

Not just recognition.

Something closer to alignment.

He met her gaze.

Held it for a second.

Then looked away.

Not awkward.

Just... understood.

Around them, the others adjusted into the new reality.

Kazeem let out a quiet laugh under his breath, shaking his head once like he still couldn’t believe it. Amara inhaled deeply, steadying herself. Tunde looked between them all, like he was already measuring how they would fit together.

Five different lives.

Now tied to the same path.

Sheun turned slightly, already moving on.

"Make una clear here," he said. "Rest. Think. Come back ready."

Jinad and Akin were already heading back toward the studio.

The moment was over.

Just like that.

No music.

No celebration.

Just the quiet beginning of something that hadn’t existed an hour ago.

Frosh looked down at his notebook.

Then back up.

The room felt smaller now.

But stronger.

Like it had purpose.

He exhaled slowly.

Not relief.

Not yet.

Just... readiness.

Beside him, Faye adjusted her bag again, grounding herself.

Neither of them spoke.

They didn’t need to.

They both knew.

This wasn’t the end.

This was the start.