The world had been talking about Paris 2024 for months, but no amount of clips, trailers or rehearsals could prepare anyone—especially Dayo—for what it felt like to stand inside the Stade de France as the Olympic Opening Ceremony began.

The lights dimmed.

A soft hum rose from the crowd—thousands of voices from every continent blending into one vibration in the air.

Then—

BOOM.

Fireworks cracked through the Parisian sky, splashing gold, red and blue across the roof of the stadium. The floor lit up with swirling graphics of rivers, stars and silhouettes of athletes. Music thundered from every corner, live orchestras mixing with modern drums.

Dayo exhaled.

He wasn't watching history.

He was inside history.

Team USA was gathered in their designated tunnel, waiting for their turn in the Parade of Nations. Everyone was in uniform—sleek white jackets, navy accents, and the American flag stitched boldly on the back. The mood was electric, athletes bouncing on their feet, adjusting collars, tying shoelaces, whispering prayers.

Coach Richard tapped Dayo lightly.

"You good?"

Dayo nodded. "Yeah. Just… taking it in."

"Good. Enjoy it. Not many people ever stand here."

They both looked forward as Greece marched out—tradition—and the stadium erupted in respectful applause. Cameras flashed, flags waved, commentators screamed into microphones. One by one, countries entered: Japan. Brazil. France. Kenya. South Korea. Australia.

Each entrance came with a burst of music representing their culture, dancers, bright lights, holograms rising from the ground in perfect synchronization.

Dayo didn't even realize he was smiling.

Someone bumped his shoulder—Evan.

"You seeing this, bro? This is insane."

Dayo chuckled. "Madness."

Behind them, Rona whispered quietly, "My mom is watching this right now… she's probably crying."

Dayo understood. If his own family had been here, Janet would have been screaming.

And they were coming. Secretly. He didn't know that part yet.

A volunteer waved at Team USA.

"Get ready! You're next!"

The tunnel shook with excitement. Athletes pulled out tiny flags. Some were already recording videos on their phones. Others hyped each other up.

Evan whispered, "Bro… we're walking out on the biggest stage in the world."

Dayo inhaled deeply.

Fireworks burst again—this time white and blue.

"UNITED STATES OF AMERICA!" the announcer roared.

The stadium exploded.

Cheers ripped through the air in waves. A mix of screams, claps, whistles, drums. The speakers blasted an energetic mash-up of American classical and hip-hop. The cameras zoomed into the entrance tunnel.

And then Dayo walked out.

Everything slowed.

The bright stadium lights washed over him. The fireworks reflected on the polished stadium floor. Flags waved everywhere—U.S., Nigeria, China, Brazil, Morocco—thousands of colors in motion.

Dayo held his small U.S. flag and smiled at the crowd.

People screamed his name.

"DAYOOO!!"

"JASON DAYO!! UNITED STATES!!!"

"50 FREE KING!"

"Dayo we love you!!"

He wasn't expecting that.

He looked around—other athletes were smiling at him, laughing, bumping fists with him. Cameras followed him closely. His name flashed on a screen briefly under the "Featured Athletes" segment.

Evan nudged him. "Bro, you're trending already."

The march continued. They waved. They took selfies. They soaked in the beauty—thousands of dancers on the field forming patterns with lights and fabrics, a river illusion flowing across the stadium floor, laser birds flying overhead.

The entire stadium transformed into a living painting.

Then came the moment everyone waited for.

The Olympic flame procession started.

A legendary French athlete jogged into the stadium with the torch. The crowd roared. The flame was passed from one Olympic hero to another, each representing a different era. Every handoff was symbolic, emotional.

Dayo stood still, watching closely.

The final torchbearer ran up the staircase to a giant metallic structure shaped like a blooming flower.

The music softened… then rose.

She lifted the torch—

—and the flower ignited.

A column of fire burst upward, swirling gracefully before settling into a bright, steady blaze.

The Olympic Flame was lit.

Fireworks shot into the sky again, louder than ever. The stadium vibrated. People cried. People hugged. Every athlete felt the same thing at once:

"I am part of something bigger than myself."

Dayo breathed out slowly.

This was real.

He was here.

Paris. The Olympics. The world watching.

The announcer's voice echoed:

"Let the games begin."

Meanwhile, high above in the VIP stands, Valerie, Wayne, and Alice leaned forward, their excitement barely contained. They had arrived earlier that day, securing discreet seats that gave them a clear view of the stadium without being noticed by anyone, especially Dayo. Their eyes were glued to the athletes, searching for familiar movement, familiar poise, and finally, when they spotted him, their breaths caught in unison.

"Look, there he is!" Valerie whispered, pointing subtly. Her eyes shimmered with pride. "Dayo's really here, and he looks… phenomenal."

Wayne smiled, his usually composed demeanor breaking slightly. "I can't believe he's about to perform in front of the world like this. And he doesn't even know we're here." He shook his head, a small laugh escaping. "I hope he never finds out. I don't think he'd let us just sit and watch quietly if he did."

Alice chuckled softly. "He'd probably glare at us and then focus right back on his game. That's our Dayo—dedicated, unstoppable." She folded her hands, leaning back in her seat while still tracking his every movement.

In the next row, Janet and Jeffrey exchanged excited whispers. Janet clutched her notebook, trying to jot down fleeting observations without drawing attention. "Look at him… he's so composed," she said, her voice barely audible over the crowd's roar. "Even with everyone watching, he doesn't look nervous."

Jeffrey nodded, adjusting his jacket and leaning closer. "That's Dayo for you. Always calm, always in control. You can see the focus in his eyes—it's intense, but inspiring."

Abisola, seated beside them, wiped a small tear from her eye, smiling warmly. "I can't believe how far he's come. From the kid who swam in the local pools to this—representing his country at the Olympics. And all while staying true to himself. I'm proud beyond words."

Jayden, leaning against the railing, grinned. "And the best part? He has no idea we're here. Watching him like this, it feels like we're getting to witness a secret side of him, one the world rarely sees."

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