How Could I Possibly Be Inconspicuous Mga Nobela at Kwento

“I won’t pretend to be pregnant, but I could still be there. Like a motherly figure or something.” “Won’t the people who work there think it’s odd that some random person is just sitting in their waiting room?” “Possibly. It depends on how crowded it is. For that matter, maybe they don’t need to notice me at all.” I was coming up with all of this off of the fly, and I realized it might end up being a really bad idea, but I was beginning to commit to the idea. I didn’t know if I could make myself completely invisible. I doubted that somehow, but I could make myself unnoticeable, and I could definitely make myself look unrecognizable to Starla.

The man staring back had softer features, an easy smile hidden behind his mouth, someone no one would look at twice. I smirked. “Perfect.” By the time I left the motel, I was invisible. I kept my head just low enough, shoulders relaxed, eyes always scanning but never still for long. That was the trick. Move like you belong, and no one would question you. I raised my head and saw Riley walking out of her apartment building with a gym bag slung across her shoulder. She didn’t look left or right, just down at her phone, thumb flicking across the screen.

That woman knew who she was. Now I stand in a modest room where every item has been chosen to keep me invisible. A small bed. A narrow mirror. Clothes folded carefully because there is no space to be careless. Shoes reduced to what is practical. Jewelry almost nonexistent. Makeup limited to the basics. This life is quieter. Smaller. Low profile by design. No one looks twice at me when I step outside, and that is exactly how it has to be for now. I run my fingers through my hair and meet my own gaze again. The fire is still there. It never left. It is only waiting.

“You just said he’d never notice you. Do you want him to notice you?” “No!” The word bursts out of me. “I’m just saying it would be better if no man ever noticed me. Ever.” Heat crawls up my neck. I move toward the couch and sit down. “It’s better to be invisible than to catch a man’s attention. I learned that the hard way.” When I glance back, he’s watching me, expression unreadable. My heart kicks up again. My palms are sweaty. I stand abruptly. “You said you wanted to talk to me?”

I also couldn’t obtain coloured contacts, so I’m hoping that by using some dark sunglasses, I can distract from my nose while concealing my eyes. Disguises work best in one of two ways. The obvious is to become invisible. This means making yourself so plain; so unassuming and average that you become forgettable. You want to become someone who can walk through a crowded room and have no one even realise you’re there. The second is distraction. It’s not just about looking different; but about adopting a different persona and embodying it from head to toe. When you don’t want people to observe you too closely, the key is to distract them. You can do this in one of two ways. Create a focal point

Their laughter carried that easy tone of people who had never once had to worry about anything. I slipped between them like another piece of furniture. Yes, that was exactly the goal, being invisible is not about hiding completely. It is about becoming so ordinary, that people forget you could ever matter at all. I had poured coffee in board meetings where men casually discussed deals that could send them to prison, and none of them ever paused or lowered their voices around me. It's been three good years of building that version of myself. I had been careful, and quiet on this work. And tonight, I stood right on the edge of breaking through.

They will automatically assume you have fled and rather than going up buildings, they will search the streets. Third, you need to keep yourself as inconspicuous as possible. Dress like them. Walk like them. And most certainly don’t have a damned gun case strapped to your back. Make sure you have a second option when it comes to stashing the case. All of these things blurred across my brain as I meticulously disassembled the sniper rifle and packed it away. Next came the clothes, dull shades that didn’t heat your skin too much in the blistering sun. I stripped down and dressed in less than a minute, despite sweat streaming down my body.

He won’t be taking me unaware again. He doesn’t get to drive me from this city, a city that was once my dream. I will not allow him to win this round when the day breaks. I’m going to look for a way to get out of his claws. It’s one thing to become invisible but another to stay hidden. I can’t slip this time. Not even a little bit. The plan was simple for me. Dye the hair. Get a job and stay incognito for the time being. I check the list in my head, satisfied that the feeling of this time being different is natural for me. Antonio won’t see what hits him.

Causing problems with me would complicate his life. Which was more important? Wanting to know what it was hiding or not causing him problems? Maybe if I went incognito, well-covered, so the security cameras wouldn't see me, perhaps I could... A quite tall building was in front of me, and I felt insignificant standing in the small plaza on the ground floor. Many people hurried and bustled around me, all in their typical executive suits. Some were talking on the phone, others held briefcases in their hands; it was clear they were all in a rush.

Claud said, looking remorseful “I understand. I’ll try.” I was about to lead him out of the dark alley when I saw five figures in the darkness at the place we should’ve used to leave this alley. Damn, they must have seen me run in. I completely forgot how unsafe this part of England was. How do I get out of this without tipping them off that Claud isn’t a normal human being? I can’t expect Claud to approach them or try to talk to them because he still doesn’t know how human customs work. He might try sniffing their butts, you know, like dogs do to each other. That would be really weird. So I guess I’m doing this. I’m talking to five men in a dark alley. Sigh. Here goes nothing. “Hi, excuse m