He had been staring at his reflection for the last ten minutes. It wasnât so much that anything was out of place - you couldnât really go wrong with a three piece even if you wanted to, but something about the outfit felt off. Perhaps it had been because the shop assistant who picked it out for him before leaving him alone with it when she noticed heâd gotten lost in thought, and in his mind no one except Minna had quite the eye for it, not even the high-end shop assistant that was supposed to know how to work magic on people much more fashionably helpless than he was. It was too modern, or it was not modern enough, the tie wasât the right pattern, and he felt like an impostor. Which was ironic, because he was an impostor in a suit either way. His eyes lingered on the cuffs even as the man spoke, only half-aware that they were the only ones in this part of the store, and his response was a bit of a delayed action, eyes being dragged away, a vague look over his shoulder. Jesus Nik, snap the fuck out of it. âAre you saying thatâs your hair after a haircut?â, even tired and snappy as he was this afternoon, he managed to pull a smile to his lips, before turning away to straighten out the invisible creases on his suit, âDifferent tie.â, though turned around, he had a clear view of the man in the floor length mirror he was stand in front of, and his voice was a lazy drawl of someone half of whose life revolved around these things, âGo bolder than that. This tie is last season, and a red one would make a more assertive satement. Also every idiot on Wall Street is doing a full windsor, just go for a cafe knot.â When he was a scrawny kid straight out of uni and the money was being stretched thin between Cas, Minna and him, he had already been proficient at blending in with these types of crowds, if anything it made him creative, even if it earned him a few early grey hairs. Who needed sleep when you could stress about tomorrowâs interview? He shook out his arms and turned around, eyes landing on the manâs wrist, âItâs in the details. A good watch is a statement in itself, also an overcompensation for middle-aged men but thatâs another matter. So whereâs the watch?â, he smirked, âDoesnât work out. Donât work out is not a thing, erase it from memory for the next few days. Half of the job is just sounding like an educated asshole. People like to hire those, just look at me.âÂ
The only other guy in the dressing room seemed to be the perfect one to ask about all this. Sure, Rafael was an expert when it came to regular clothes like t-shirts and jeans, as well as clothing heâd wear to parties. But this felt out of his league, big time. This man, however, seemed to be dressing smart as casual wear. Rafael looked back in the mirror as he checked out his hair, quite liking it but the manâs comment did make him feel kind of insecure about the new look. âYeah, why? I think it looks pretty good.â He shrugged, turning back to face him. The advice came quicker than Rafaelâs fashionable mind could comprehend. Different tie. âRed tie, bolder, coffee knot, no windy knot.â Quickly repeated as he failed to understand some of it. He took a red tie from the rack near them, it had a nice color to it. A shade of pink was in there, which made it almost a wine color. He looked down at his wrist where nothing but a small leather band was wrapped around. âI donât own a watch.â Also loosely translated to âI canât afford a watchâ. This dude may have some excellent taste (he seemed to be sure of it anyway), but he clearly failed to note the comment that Raf needed the second job or else. Raf sighed at the depressing realization that clothing wasnât enough. Apparently his speech and extravagant accessories would play a factor in job hunting. âWell, in that case, Iâm really fucked.â He spoke. âNot that I could keep up the educated image for long, theyâd see right through me.â
