OFF-SCRIPT: WHAT WE DON'T NAME

The Morning After

Morning came quietly. For a moment, I didn’t remember where I was. Then the ceiling registered. The stillness. The faint scent of his house—clean, controlled, familiar.

Tomade’s.

I reached for my phone on the bedside table, squinting at the brightness.

1 new message.

From: Mum

Congratulations, darling. I saw everything. I’m proud of you.

I stared at it longer than I needed to. Two weeks. That was the last time she’d tried to call. I almost dropped the phone back on the table.

Almost.

Then Tomade’s voice echoed in my head, as clear as if he were standing in the room.

“Second chances don’t come neatly packaged, Shine. Sometimes you have to choose them.”

I exhaled. Typed.

Thanks, Mum.

Sent.

That was enough. For now.

The house was already awake when I stepped into the dining area.

Tomade sat at the head of the table, tablet in hand, scanning through something with his usual intensity. Across from him sat Shayo, posture straight, a folder resting neatly on his lap.

Neither of them looked surprised to see me. That said enough.

“Good morning,” I said, slipping into a chair.

Tomade glanced up briefly. “Morning.”

Shayo gave me a small smile. “Didn’t expect you this early.”

“You say that like you don’t see me here almost every other day.”

“That’s exactly why I said it.”

Fair.

From the kitchen, Aunty Mercy’s voice floated out before she appeared.

“You’re awake already? After last night?”

She stepped out carrying a tray, her face lighting up when she saw me properly.

“Ah, our golden girl!” her eyes flicked over me quickly—measuring, like always.

I stood immediately, crossing over to hug her. “Aunty Mercy, it’s only been two weeks but I’ve missed your food.”

She laughed. “Flatterer. Sit down before everything gets cold.”

Breakfast came together quickly—eggs, fried yam, toast, fruit—more than necessary, as always.

“You did well yesterday,” Shayo said, once we’d started eating.

“Thank you.”

Aunty Mercy nodded proudly. “We were all watching. Even the neighbours were shouting.”

I smiled. “Of course they were.”

She shook her head, smiling, then pointed a spoon at me. “I made egusi this morning. I’ll pack some for you before you go.”

“You’re the best,” I said immediately.

“I know,” she replied, already turning back to the kitchen.

Tommy didn’t say anything immediately, but I caught the slight nod. With him, that counted.

After breakfast, Tommy pushed his chair back.

“Shayo.”

They didn’t need more than that.

Both of them stood and headed toward the study, already mid-conversation about something I wasn’t invited into.

Typical.

I lingered for a bit, then drifted down the hallway. The music room was exactly how I remembered it. Minimal. Quiet. Intentional.

I sat at the piano, letting my fingers rest lightly on the keys before pressing down. The melody came easily—familiar, practiced. One of mine. The one that had changed everything.

The notes filled the room, soft but steady, grounding me in a way nothing else did.

For a few minutes, it was just that. No expectations. No strategy. No Tomade. Just music.

“Muna?”

I looked up. Shayo stood by the door.

“Tom wants you in the study.”

Of course he did.

When I walked in, he didn’t waste time.

“Sit.”

I took the chair directly across from him. Shayo moved to one of the sofas off to the side.

Tomade slid a stack of scripts across the desk toward me.

“You haven’t chosen your next project.”

“I’ve been busy,” I replied.

“You’ve been avoiding it.”

I didn’t deny that.

He leaned back slightly, watching me. “You don’t have the luxury of long gaps right now. You’re trending, but you’re still new. That makes you visible and forgettable at the same time.”

I flipped through the scripts without really reading.

“You’ve done cameos. Minor roles,” he continued. “Now you’re being considered for major supporting roles internationally. That’s not something you sit on.”

“International,” I repeated. “You mean Hollywood.”

“Yes,” he replied.

I set the scripts down. “I don’t remember saying I wanted that.”

Tomade’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes sharpened.

“This isn’t about what you said at eighteen,” Tomade said. “This is about where your career is now.”

I met his gaze. “Or where you want it to be.”

Tomade didn’t hesitate. “This is where it should be.”

I leaned back in my chair. “I’ve already taken the Hollywood scripts out of consideration.”

No one responded immediately. Shayo shifted slightly but stayed quiet.

“I’m not trying to be far from home right now,” I added. “There’s this thriller project—Director Bimbola. She reached out herself.”

Recognition flickered across Shayo’s face. “Bimbola’s team has been pushing hard for you.”

“They should be,” I said.

“Timeline?” Tomade asked.

“Four months, max. Pay is solid—but the terms need work.”

Tomade’s gaze moved briefly to Shayo.

“We can renegotiate,” Shayo said. “They’re prioritising you. You’re their first choice.”

Neither of them spoke immediately. Then—

“This is short-term thinking,” Tomade said.

“This is my thinking,” I replied.

“You’re passing on a global opportunity for comfort.”

“I’m choosing what makes sense to me,” I said.

He didn’t look away. “You’re choosing what keeps you close.”

There it was.

“Is that a problem?”

“Yes,” he replied.

I held his gaze for a moment. Then I smiled slightly. “Or is it just inconvenient for you?”

His jaw tightened.

“Is this the new strategy?” I continued. “Send me across the world so things are… easier?”

“Don’t do that,” he said quietly.

“Do what?” I said. “Say what you won’t?”

Before he could respond, the door opened.

Tolu stepped in, stopping short when he saw all of us.

“I—uh—good morning, boss.”

Tomade didn’t look at him. “You’re on time.”

Tolu blinked, then glanced at me.

“I thought—”

“I asked him to come,” Tomade said.

Tolu nodded quickly, then turned back to me. “Press starts at one.”

“I know,” I said. “I can get ready from here.”

“No,” Tomade said immediately.

I looked at him. “No?”

“You’ll go home. Get ready properly.”

“I’m fine here.”

“You’re not staying here all day.”

The firmness in his tone made Tolu suddenly very interested in the wall.

I held Tomade’s gaze for a moment longer than necessary.

Then—

“I think you should go,” he added, quieter now. “And think about the offer.”

He reached for his tablet, not looking at me.

“You know I won’t force you,” he said. “I just don’t want you walking away from something this important without thinking it through.”

I studied him for a second. Then stood.

“I’ll think about it,” I said. “Only because you’re the one asking.”

It wasn’t a yes. But it wasn’t a no either.

I turned toward the door.

“Muna,” he called after me.

I paused, glancing back.

His gaze was steady, measured as always.

“Your schedule this week is tight,” he said. “Don’t let it overwhelm you.”

I didn’t respond immediately.

“If anything becomes an issue,” he added, “you tell me early. Not after.”

Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten—controlled, practical… but not distant.

I nodded once. “I know.”

Tomade didn’t say anything for a moment longer than necessary. Just looked at me, like he was weighing something he wasn’t saying out loud.

“Come on, Tolu,” I said.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He followed quickly.

As we stepped out, I could feel Tomade’s eyes on me. Even without turning back.

Tolu glanced out at the traffic for a moment, then back at me like he was already used to the rhythm of my mornings.

“Press at one,” he said. “They’re going to lean into The Remover shipping angle hard.”

I groaned softly. “They always act like I’ve never done press before.”

He smirked. “They act like it’s your first time every time.”

That earned him a look from me.

He raised his hands slightly. “I’m just saying—this one is loud. The shipping stuff is everywhere.”

“I saw,” I muttered.

My phone lit up again on my lap before I even unlocked it.

MUNA & DAVIS SPOTTED? FANS CONVINCED THERE’S MORE BEHIND THE SCENES CHEMISTRY

I exhaled through my nose and locked it immediately.

“People are bored,” I said.

“They’re entertained,” Tolu corrected. “There’s a difference.”

I leaned my head back against the seat. “Either way, I’m the topic.”

Tolu nodded once, then hesitated slightly before speaking again.

“Also… Mob.”

That name landed differently.

I turned my head slowly. “Mobius?”

He nodded. “He’s been reaching out again.”

I already knew where this was going before he finished.

“He’s been trying to reconnect. Claims to want another song collaboration tied to your next project rollout.”

“That’s not new,” I said.

“It’s not that,” Tolu said. “He stopped keeping it professional,” He added carefully. “It’s not about work anymore. He sends messages like he knows you personally. Comments that don’t belong in any business conversation.”

The air in the car shifted. I didn’t respond immediately.

Tolu kept his tone steady. “I’ve seen them. That’s why I’m bringing it up.”

I exhaled slowly through my nose. “Of course.”

“You don’t have to deal with that alone,” he said. “We can shut it down officially. Or escalate it.”

I shook my head slightly. “It’s always the same pattern.”

“That doesn’t make it normal,” he replied immediately.

That made me pause.

Outside, the city blurred past—vibrant, loud, indifferent.

“I don’t know what would happen if Tomade found out,” I said quietly, more to myself than him.

Tolu turned sharply. “No. That’s not—Muna, he should know.”

I glanced at him. “You don’t understand.”

“I think I do,” he said. “Better than you think. But keeping things like that quiet doesn’t protect you. It just delays the reaction.”

I didn’t answer right away.

Because that was the part I didn’t want to think about. Not Mob. Not the messages.

But what “not taking it lightly” actually meant when it came from Tomade.

My phone buzzed again, softer this time. A notification I hadn’t opened yet.

Another headline.

I locked the screen without reading further. Then I finally spoke.

“Press is going to eat this up.”

Tolu nodded. “That’s why we take prep time seriously. Keep it clean. Keep it controlled.”

I let out a slow breath. “Everything is always controlled.”

He didn’t disagree.

And for a moment, neither of us said anything else as the city kept moving around us, loud and certain, like it already knew how my day was going to unfold.