Novel & Cerita How Could I Possibly Be Inconspicuous

I’ll figure out a way to call River or walk my ass to their house. I’d just grabbed something to eat from one of the vendors, and I started noticing more cops roaming the building. My heart started beating faster in fear that they were after me. Once again, I tried to make myself as small and inconspicuous as possible. Not that making myself small is a problem. I’m already short. But you know what I mean. I want to be invisible.

Composed, my eyes don’t show a hint of emotion as I scan the sea of faces before me. Clad in a perfectly tailored charcoal jacket, lowering the brim of my cap, I meld seamlessly with the twilight shadows. My pale skin almost blends into the building’s sleek architecture. My hair, devoid of a single strand out of place, as if I completed the picture of a man who had mastered the art of concealment. The voices around fuse into an indistinct hum. My pulse remains steady, my breathing even, as I contemplate my next move. With each practiced step, I measure the distance between myself and the probing lenses. I move with a deliberate nonchalance, a phantom on the periphery, avoiding eye contact wh

emptiness. Alyssa quickly pulled her hair back into a messy bun and added a quick brush of makeup. Enough to cover the worst of how she felt but she would half to cake it on like a clown to hide it all. She chose black shorts an oversized white shirt, nothing drastic, she wanted to be as plain as she could be. She threw on scuffed sneakers near the door, the old comfort of them feeling grounding. She was just background noise, just another person. She needed moe than ever to remain unseen, and invisible. It was the only way for her to stay safe.

Lilac. At twenty, I had mastered the art of staying invisible. I move slowly between two rows in the crowded lecture hall as my eyes scan the seats for a column with scarce students, or less high-class people. Once I find it in the fourth to the first column, I take my seat and bend my head over my notebook, scribbling words I barely understand. It’s not like I’m not smart. I am. But life has taught me to shrink. It has made me get used to avoiding attention and existing quietly.

“Your car is too conspicuous. If I go to school in such a nice car, I don’t know what rumors others will spread. Don't mess up my quiet college life!” “Ok.” He parked his car on the side of the road. After she got out of the car, she saw Joshua get out and follow her. “Why are you following me?” she asked, confused. “To make sure you get back safely,” he said naturally. “My car is conspicuous, but rest assured, my whole being is inconspicuous.” “...” She was speechless. How could he be inconspicuous? He was handsome and dignified in good conscience, and his whole being had a charming temperament similar to that of a male god. They would definitely be the focus when they walked onto the campu

Anyone who looked closely would recognize me instantly. And if I only covered my face? No. That wouldn’t work. Anyone would find out I was an imposter the moment they saw the rest of me. I spotted a plain dress hanging among the others. It was simple, nothing special, but that was exactly what I needed. Plain meant invisible. Plain meant forgettable. I slipped into it quickly, my fingers fumbling with the fabric as anxiety made them unsteady. The material felt different against my skin—cleaner, newer. It made me look like one of them. Or at least, I hoped it did.

“You do not want me to be seen?” “I want you to be invisible,” he replied, looking at my eyes. That made me want to be anything but. I chose a simple dress that hugged my body without screaming for attention. No jewelry. Flat shoes. My hair pulled back. I looked ordinary enough to pass by without notice, yet close enough to temptation to make him tense. The drive was quiet. Drake kept checking the mirrors. Every red light made his jaw tighten. I found it thrilling. This was not the safe house. This was the outside world. The place where mistakes mattered.

Who would have thought that I would be as rebellious and obstinate as I am today? I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as I snuck carefully into the back garden. The gym bag I had originally packed was replaced with a relatively smaller backpack that I could carry with ease. I recognized that bringing a lot of items with me would prevent me from being successful in getting out of this ordeal.

As I walked towards the public toilet, my heart was racing, and I could feel my palms getting sweaty. I was afraid someone would recognize me or notice my bag, which was slightly bulging with my casual outfit. I pulled my hoodie over my head, covering my face as much as possible, and walked quickly, avoiding eye contact with anyone on the street.

And another voice she didn't recognise — older, with the clipped delivery of someone accustomed to being heard on phone calls rather than in person. The words were fragments. She caught: “timeline”. “Too visible”.”she's asking questions. We need to find out how much she knows “ Then footsteps. Moving toward the door. She walked. Quickly and quietly, not running, because running made noise and because she had learned from twelve weeks in this building that the fastest way to become invisible was to look like you belonged. She turned the corner. She stopped at the water dispenser and pressed a cup under the tap and filled it and stood there with her heart going hard in her chest and her face d