By now people have stopped asking me questions. Maybe it’s because they don’t understand me, or maybe it’s because they don’t want to. But, that definitely doesn’t mean they ignore me. So, when I placed a large crate on my street with a sign asking for cardboard packaging, it soon began to fill up. Egg boxes, cereal cartons, shoes boxes – everything arrived. But I had to be patient. I wouldn’t get what I needed overnight. And besides, I’d promised him I’d do it, and this was one boy I wanted to impress.

My friends gave me things whenever they saw me. But they knew what it was for and were happy to help. Once a week, when it was dark enough not to be noticed, I transferred everything I had to a disused warehouse I’d found a month back. It was in the middle of some old flats, but just walking into it sent a tingle down my spine. So much space, so much potential. But I knew I shouldn’t be there. And I knew I mustn’t get caught. Not till my plan had worked.

I told my friends tonight was the night. I knew they’d put the word out. An unexpected guest list was always the best kind. And of course he’d be there. This was his challenge in return for trading me his NY t-shirt. He named the venue, he named the time. All I had to do was to bring the undercover party.

Three hours later and I knew I’d kept my end of the bargain. He looked even better DJing to a massive crowd than he did on the street party night. And even as the music blared out, the massive crowd stayed undiscovered – the boxes that covered every inch of wall were doing their job and absorbing every noise. Soundproof and secret – I’d pulled it off.

As the sun rose, we began to sneak back into the world – exhausted people clutching handfuls of cardboard. I wanted to leave no trace, so this was a pop-up party where you had to take away the walls. I was the last to leave and scoured the empty warehouse for evidence. There was only one thing left, so decided to take it back to mine. We wouldn’t want to leave a DJ lying around after all?