Han leans on his motorcycle as he has his camera hanging off his neck. His motorcycle helmet still on his head but the visor up to show his eyes and nose. He hates how his new client has him staking out the graveyard at night, ignoring the wispy figures that are moving around aimlessly. He knows if he looks at them, they’d just bug him.

The client said something about them thinking their teen was in some cult or a bad friend group. Han just thinks they sneak out here to smoke and drink and party. But what the fuck does he know.