For my last part-time job before graduation, I signed up at this high-end men's suit customization shop.
The hourly wages are ridiculously high, and the requirements are stringent to the last hair.
The people who joined me were a pair of twin male college students, who were as dazzling as models who stepped out of a fashion magazine.
I am as ordinary as a speck of dust, huddled in a corner memorizing sizes and fabrics.
But they are very comfortable, as if they were born to be in the spotlight.
Until that rainy night, I was squatting in the corner of the warehouse sorting out unsaleable inventory.
The twin brothers pushed open the door and entered, rain dripping down their hair.
My brother suddenly took out a measuring tape and wrapped it around my waist. My brother chuckled beside me:
"Don't be afraid, we don't need a qualified salesperson."
"But an 'invisible person' who can never be noticed by guests."
