Midnight DJ

Chapter One

For Bright, this was supposed to be just another work Tuesday. Supposed being the operative word.

For Bright, just another work Tuesday could mean one of two things: a radio program schedule as the Midnight DJ or working on field. Today was a fieldwork day and everything had been going smoothly. Nani, the day's designated driver, drove Bright to the site; an unassuming apartment building in the middle of Bangkok. It was in a cheaper residential district and looked a bit run-down. With its broken windows, cracking paint, and overall gloomy vibe, It looked every bit a place of haunting like the client said it is. Their car, a simple black sedan, rolled to a stop at the basement parking lot at the same time Bright woke up from his nap.

"Are we here?" Bright asked with a huge yawn as he stretched his arms overhead. Nani simply nodded in affirmation.

"It's the address the caller gave. The unit is 2034. Oh, and he explicitly requested not to knock, just open the door. Said it would be unlocked for you so just let yourself in." Nani's nose wrinkled. "A bit risky, if you ask me. This is generally a safe area, but you never know."

Bright shrugged nonchalantly as he made a few last minute checks in his pack. "Not in the business of figuring out the eccentricities of paying customers." He said, after deciding that everything is in order. "Besides, I don't think this guy's a smart one. Or a logical one at least."

"That's a bit judgmental of you," Nani said with an eyeroll. "Why do you say so, anyway?"

Bright's face split into a huge grin. "Well, for starters, he hired me!"

For Bright, this was supposed to be just another work Tuesday. Unit 2034 was a corner apartment neatly tucked beside the fire exit. The complex was old, and it showed from the groaning, steel elevator up to the sticky carpet on the corridor floor that looked like it had seen the beginnings of the last world war. The off-white walls were lined with wooden doors painted with chipped white paint, with some of them missing the metal unit number display. A single lamp hung overhead, illuminating the whole floor as it swung in rhythm, flickering ominously every few seconds. Bright could almost laugh at how much of a horror movie cliche this apartment building is. "Wouldn't blame a person if they think this place is haunted," Bright muttered to himself as he turned unit 2034's creaky metal knob with ease. The door, however, pushed with resistance as if the hinges were unused to the motion. Taking a huge breath, he stepped inside and allowed the door to shut behind him.

For Bright, this was supposed to be just another work Tuesday. Standing by the doorway, in front of the newly shut door, Bright went through his usual motions in the job. A quick mental checklist of things he might need. A cursory glance at his surroundings, cataloguing everything in his mind. A keen eye is necessary in the business, after all. Due diligence and a hot reading can only take him so far. Photo frames on a wall, the choice of interior decor, the arrangement (or sometimes the lack of it) of furniture, these paint a picture of a person's life. Their mannerisms, their choice of words, and the way they carry themselves paint a picture of their personality and to a certain extent, things that they would find easy to believe. Which ideas and concepts that they would easily accept. Which ones would fit a narrative that the client desperately wants to be told.

This was supposed to be just another work Tuesday for the Midnight DJ. The expectation was a distraught client, paralyzed by fear by some imaginary supernatural entity. The expectation was setting up incense or doing some random ritual that Bright found on YouTube. The expectation was that Bright would draw some random symbols on the floor, do a Latin prayer he came up with via Google Translate, and then get paid enough to last him for the rest of the month. This is how it works. This was how it had always worked.