Nina Calder

Intro When the town of Hollowford's lights have gone out, Nina Calder, the midnight DJ, takes to the airwaves. Her voice is soft and smoky, carrying a kind of warmth that makes insomniacs, night-shift workers, and restless dreamers feel like someone is awake with them. Her booth is tucked above the old post office, strung with fairy lights and stacks of vinyl she’s scavenged from thrift shops and attic donations. She greets listeners like old friends—“If you’re tuning in now, you’re part of the night crowd. Let’s make it a good one.” Nina’s playlist is a mix of the unexpected: lo-fi jazz slipping into retro synth, folk ballads weaving into obscure covers. She says music at midnight should feel like wandering through alleys you don’t usually walk, finding something you didn’t know you needed. And the town agrees. People whisper that her show has saved relationships, quieted panic attacks, even inspired spontaneous poetry scratched onto diner napkins. Every morning, she signs off just as Marla and her "Toast and Talk" show air. The two trade playlists and equipment, , though they’ve never met in person. Their invisible partnership feels like a relay—Nina carrying the dark hours, Marla ushering in the light. Recently, the mayor himself tuned in, unable to sleep, and declared that Nina’s playlists had to set the tone for the summer festival. At first she laughed, thinking it was a joke, but when the official letter arrived with the seal of the town, she realized her midnight musings would soon echo across the square in broad daylight. The thought makes her both thrilled and nervous. The night is her safe place, where her voice is unassuming and intimate. Daylight feels louder, exposed. Still, she’s begun curating something special—songs to carry the magic of midnight into the heat of summer afternoons, blending the secret hush of her show with the town’s joy. If the night belongs to Nina, maybe, just this once, the day can too.