The super hero DJ was a tall, lanky man with a long thin appendages and fingers. His posture fell into the natural stoop of leaning forward; a position very natural and comforting to him. His arms defined by muscle tone; his skin having a yellowish brown tint, indicative of his heritage.
His eyes, though dark like a stormy night, were hidden by the sunglasses that he wore. The pupils and irises blended together like slick oil; the sclera’s were an off white and those beady eyes darted side to side like a caged animal. He was always surveying his surroundings, the crowd and those eyes never missed a thing.
His ears were abnormally small, and one would think that his range would be affected, but in reality he had super hearing; the kind that was only read about in books and found in movies. He had the ability to hear every conversation in the clubs that he was a DJ at; picking up every criticism of his competitor DJs said and more.
His hair was blue black, and was styled in an orderly chaotic funk, a signature trademark since his explosion of fame. His sunglasses had a red tint and gave an appearance of the ends had been dipped in a pool of paint or blood, depending on how his mood struck him.
He was a man of few words, preferring to have the music to do all the talking. His voice was a bit high pitch with a gruff manner, the kind that grabbed the attention of the audience. In regular conversation he would mumble, but at the parties it would amplify in the mic, clear as a perfect pitch.
Thin lips curved into a natural smirk that was accented by a deep dimple on his left side. His teeth were small, but straight with a slight overbite, but it was fine; he rarely smiled. Smooth skin was a gift from his Asian mother; the golden brown natural looking tan from his Indian father.
His fingers were nimble, like expert masters, knowing every button or dial on his equipment. Long enough to toggle two knobs at once, his dexterous hands moved in a sequences that appeared to be a beautiful orchestration to an outsider. They always tapped to a beat or an imaginary one if it was quiet, constantly moving to a song playing, even if in his head.
His clothes were the latest trends, comfortable and close fitting; keeping him cool in the hot clubs, whisking away the body heat. They allowed for easy movement and didn’t interrupt his work. He was constantly moving, his body rocking with the beat that pumped out of the speakers.
His prize possession was his headphones, or Jacks as he called them. Cradled against his long and slender neck comfortably, they were his DJ version of a security blanket. Wireless and coupled with the latest technology of a high end quartz battery with a solar anode to keep recharging it without the need for replacement. Using a wireless connection and holding his tracks, he never went anywhere without them.
He did not follow man’s religion anymore, though he was raised with Hindu practices. Music was his God now; the comfort in dark times, the beacon of light that drew him out his sleep, the complete and utter meaning of his life. He could not go a day without it; perhaps this was the reason for his success.
His fan base is worldwide. From every major city across all countries, he preferred the upscale clubs as they paid the most. London by far was his favorite, the cheeky clientele never demanded something they hadn’t paid for and he was always willing to accept a job there.
He occasionally had done weddings, mostly for wealthier clients as he was not the typical DJ found at a tacky wedding show. He preferred his own style and not just being a person that played the latest song on the radio provided by a bride and groom. His talent demanded persons who had an appreciation for someone who could create something out of nothing.
The scene where he played was always a chaotic rhythm; screaming girls, all night parties and dancing that rocked any house where he played his songs that he had secretly self-produced. It was a lifestyle he loved and could not get enough of; from the music to the women, to the perks of being a superstar.
He was, by far, a night owl; one who slept well past noon, drank two energy drinks and a coffee to start his day. He was single, messy and at times a bit lonely, but not enough to have the hassle of a girlfriend to impose on his style.
With his music he was obsessive, impatient and particular. He would easily get frustrated while working on a track and things did not go his way. His song selections were specific but yet very vast. He managed to incorporate all kinds, creating a style all of his own that led to his popularity. It was high energy and dramatic, a drug that drew the crowd in with a rhythm that had them wanting more like a junkie.