He caught me trying to open the lock. I was sure the old git was out but I heard his door creak open behind me and then that raspy voice bark out, ‘Hey!’ I let go of the padlock and turned to face him, red-handed.

‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ O’Leary stood there with his stained pants and his shirt open to his naval, coils of grey hair latticed over his body. There were dark circles under his eyes. ‘I’ve told you before to keep your nose out of where it don’t belong.’

That was last month. And the month before that. But he never told me what was making the noise down in the basement. At first he had tried to pretend that I was imagining things, but my persistence had made him angry. Now he just told me to piss off and mind my own business.

‘Just tell me what it is, then,’ I said. ‘First Friday of the month, right on schedule, that thumping starts up and I can barely sleep.’

O’Leary took a step towards me and held up a finger.

‘Just piss off and forget it, alright? And if I ever catch you trying to break into private areas again you’ll have your eviction notice before breakfast. Understood?’ He slammed the door to his rooms leaving the smell of sweat behind him.

I avoided O’Leary as much as I could after that. We didn’t exactly get along at the best of times, and with the threat of eviction hanging over me I decided to play it safe and not antagonise him further. He paid as little attention to me as he could. Occasionally I’d pass him on my way to work, a fresh copy of the Daily Mail under his arm. We’d exchange a brief, civil nod of acknowledgment but nothing more.

The first Friday of a new month was approaching and the thought of the maddening thump from downstairs was already annoying me. What the hell could it be? Some kind of machine? What was going on down there? And why was O’Leary so set on keeping it secret?

I went to a local record store after work hoping to find some music I could use to drown out the noise from the basement. After browsing the shelves for ten minutes the only thing that had caught my interest was the blonde girl browsing 70s Rock. I made my way over, and flicked through CD cases beside her.

‘Bob Seger. Classic,’ I said as I glanced at the CDs she held. ‘You into the old stuff?’

She looked up and gave me a polite smile. ‘They’re for my dad. He loves classic rock. I’m more into synth stuff. You ever heard of Robert Parker, The Midnight, that kind of thing?’

‘Ah, the retro 80s vibe. It’s a shame you don’t find that stuff in places like this.’

Her smile grew and she turned herself towards me.

‘I know this place that plays synthwave all the time. They’ve got this great DJ who only plays there. I’m going tomorrow night. You should come.’

‘Yeah, sounds like fun. I’m Jason by the way.’

‘Kristen.’

She gave me her number, paid for her CDs, and then left, waving to me as she did.

I was pleased, not just because I had a date with a cute girl. I’d be out of the house for the night and wouldn’t have to worry about the noise at all. It’d be over by the time I got home and then I had whole month before I had to think about it again.

I finished work on Friday and saw O’Leary carrying some heavy-looking boxes down to the basement when I got home. I was tempted to sneak down after him and have a look around but I heard him coming back up the stairs and dashed up to my flat. A shit, shower, and shave later and I was ready to head out. I had a half in The Rose while I waited for Kristen to tell me where the club was. It felt good to be out of the house with nothing to worry about and plenty to look forward to.

My phone buzzed. It was Kristen texting me directions to the club. I frowned at the phone. The place was nearby, on the street just behind my flat. I didn’t know there was a club there, and I’d never heard anyone mention it to me. It must be some underground place, very exclusive. I shrugged it off and text back saying I’d be there soon, can’t wait to see you.

I arrived at the place and saw a small group of people smoking at the top of a flight of stairs. The stairs led to a basement and I could just make out the bass line of the music beyond. Kristen was already inside. Just through the door a guy with a top-knot and nose ring stamped my hand and told me to enjoy myself.

The bass was much louder inside and took on a rounder shape. Other sounds pumped with it, artificial noises that sparkled around the endless bass tone. It was synth music, and damn good synth music at that. The basement was bigger than I’d imagined it would be, as big as a barn or a warehouse even, and full of people. Everyone was dancing and twisting themselves around one another, waving their arms in the air as the music filled the space between bodies. Electric lights flashed all around in brutal colours, harsh on the eyes. Green was slashed by blue which warped into red that melted to pink. The lights came in lines and waves, writhing to the music. Glow sticks traced their way through the gloomy air and the violent attack of light made it hard to discern shapes. I was caught in the current of the crowd and soon ended up surrounded by the sweating throng of revellers.

Over the noise I heard someone shout, ‘Hey!’ I turned, suddenly anxious, but saw Kristen stood behind me. She had two glowing stripes of pink on her cheeks and her teeth glowed blue in the black light. She was wearing a short, frilly skirt of pink and green lace and all she wore above that was a strip of black tape over each nipple. I tried not to stare. It was too loud to have a conversation so we danced, the music crashing over us like waves. Before long I was dripping with sweat and my shirt clung to my back. Kristen’s body glistened in the violent light and I struggled to take my eyes off her.

The music shifted from high energy into something slower. Kristen put her arms around my neck and stepped closer to me. I looked past her and saw the DJ standing over the crowd on his platform. I stopped moving. He was no longer wearing the open shirt or the stained pants but it was undeniably O’Leary stood behind the decks, dictating the rhythm of the night. His headphones covered the bald patch on his head and he was smiling, something I’d never seen him do.

The smile dropped when he noticed me staring up at him. His eyes went wide and I couldn’t tell if he was livid or scared. I heard Kristen’s voice in my ear. ‘What’s wrong?’

I told her I needed a cigarette, I’d be right back, and pushed my way through the mass of slick, hot bodies. There was a gentle spit of rain outside and a breeze was just picking up. The heat left my body quickly and I soon wished I’d brought a jacket. I climbed the stairs and sat down on a garden wall.

I heard the door downstairs open and a moment later O’Leary sat beside me.

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I guess you found out, then.’

‘Found out? This is what you’ve been trying to hide?’

‘Yep. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know if you could be trusted to know.’

‘Why not?’

O’Leary put his hands in his pockets. ‘I don’t exactly have a license for this.’ He looked away, across the street. ‘And I didn’t exactly get planning permission to knock the basements through into one.’

‘So the noise I was complaining about—‘

‘Is the same noise you’ve been dancing to all night, aye. I thought the soundproofing job I’d done was good enough. Guess not.’

We sat in silence for a minute as I tried to wrap my mind around it all.

‘Are you going to evict me?’ I asked.

O’Leary looked me in the eye. ‘Are you going to tell the police about all this?’ He pointed down the stairs.

‘I’m not planning to, no.’

He nodded, pursed his lips, then offered me his hand. I shook it.

‘Good. I’d best get back to it, then.’ He stood up and stretched his back.

O’Leary wasn’t such a bad guy.

THE END