“Are you really going to let me do this alone?” I ask, watching Ian as he fidgets with a small, silver ring on his finger, his legs stretched out on the polished floor. He’s deliberately casual, but I can see the tension in his jaw.
“I don’t have much to say,” he replies, shrugging, his voice flat.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say softly. “You don’t *have* to say much.” I watch him trace the intricate pattern on the ring. He’s been silent for a long moment.
“Please,” I continue, pushing a small smile onto my lips. “I don’t want to do this alone. It feels too much like a job interview, and that makes my stomach twist.”
He sighs, a flicker of something—resignation, maybe—crossing his face. “Okay, fine.” He glances around the room, then pulls a chair closer, settling beside me.
“Thank you!” I say, pressing a hand to my chest, feeling a warmth spread through me.
I tug my dress down a little, smoothing my hair, while Ian shifts uneasily in his seat.
“Hello,” the interviewer says, her voice calm and welcoming. “Thank you for joining us.” She takes a seat across from us.
“Hi,” I say, extending my hand. “I’m Chloe, nice to meet you.”
“And I’m Ian,” he says, offering a curt nod.
“Nice to meet you both,” she says, her gaze lingering on Ian. “So, let’s start with something easy. Do you two know each other? Are you friends?”
“Yes and no,” Ian says, his voice clipped.
“We’re still getting to know each other,” I explain, crossing my legs. “But I think we’re heading towards friendship. We’re neighbors, so we see each other a lot.”
The interviewer nods, her eyes twinkling. “Let’s stay within the easy category for this one. What’s one thing you want but can’t have?”
“That’s not an easy question,” Ian mutters, his brow furrowed.
“I want a pet pigeon,” I blurt out, “named Josh.”
The room falls silent. I watch as the interviewer’s eyebrows raise in surprise.
“What?” I ask, shifting my gaze between her and Ian.
“Oh my God,” Ian whispers under his breath, his voice laced with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. The interviewer lets out a small chuckle.
“What about you?” I ask Ian, desperate to break the awkward silence.
“It’s a tricky question,” he says, readjusting his position. “I can think of things other people would say, but honestly, I don’t know. I don’t have an answer.”
“You both recently started your first year at university. How is that going?” she asks. “Is university life what you expected?”
“Kinda,” Ian says, his tone flat. “Tiresome and boring.”
“Not at all,” I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “People make it seem like these are going to be the best years of your life, but they’re definitely not. Some modules aren’t interesting, lecturers aren’t great—they need something to *teach* people, and most of them don’t have it. The assignments are challenging, even in our first year. I hate to imagine what next year will be like. And there’s not much time for going out, meeting people.”
“I see,” she says, her gaze thoughtful. “You both still live with your parents. Have you considered moving into student accommodation?”
“No,” Ian says, taking a sip of water. “There’s no reason for my parents to pay extra money for me to live two blocks closer to uni.”
“Yeah, same,” I say. “And my brother had a bad experience with student accommodation, so that put me off.”
“How so?”
“Well, he was sharing a kitchen and living space with five people. Thankfully, he had his own shower in his room, but he just didn’t click with anyone. They were all loud, party animals, drinking a lot. My brother isn’t like that at all. The kitchen was constantly a mess—they weren’t cleaning up after themselves, not even after parties. They weren’t considerate of the other people living there.” I twist a strand of my necklace between my fingers.
“That’s unfortunate,” she says. “Moving on, I want to touch on the family topic. Do you think you can choose your family, or do you believe in blood being thicker than water?”
“I think you can choose,” I say, turning to Ian. “Everyone’s situation is different. You might have loving parents, or awful ones. I wouldn’t expect anyone to consider awful parents family.”
“I agree with Chloe,” Ian says. “You can definitely choose your family. A lot of people consider their friends their true family. I am one of them.”
“Very well,” she says. “Let’s close this interview lightly. What do you do in your free time to relieve stress?”
“Paint, or cook,” Ian says, already looking as if he's eager to escape. “Anything you like, anything you’re passionate about.”
“Going out and taking photos with my camera, listening to music, reading a book, having a relaxing shower,” I say, chuckling. “Exercise, but who am I kidding? I never stick to that for long, even though I want to.”
“Okay,” she says, smiling. “I think that’s all the time we have for today. Thank you very much for your time and answers. Have a lovely evening, and who knows, maybe we’ll see each other again one day.”
“Thank you,” I say, standing up and putting on my jacket. “Have a great day as well.”
“Have a nice evening,” Ian says, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Well, this went better than I expected. I’m pretty sure the boy next door is thanking God that it’s over, even though it didn’t take that long.
I turn around once I grab my bag and see that Ian is already gone. Damn, he really hated it, didn’t he?
I thought it was pretty good, chill. I guess he thought otherwise.
Oh well, time to go back home…