Chapter 29: Interview Part 1
The weekend before the PIUT interview arrived, and true to his word, Dad organized a hiking trip for us. Early Saturday morning, we piled into the car, backpacks filled with water, snacks, and in my case, a small notebook for any last-minute interview prep.
As we drove towards the trailhead, the familiar scenery of our town gave way to lush forests and rolling hills. The car ride was filled with a mix of excited chatter and comfortable silences. I could sense both Dad and Rhea watching me closely, gauging my mood in light of recent revelations.
"You doing okay, Rio?" Dad asked, catching my eye in the rearview mirror.
I nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I'm okay."
Rhea turned in her seat to face me. "today's all about clearing that mind of yours. Fresh air, exercise, and absolutely no talk of pianos or mysterious pasts allowed. Deal?"
I couldn't help but chuckle at her determined expression. "Deal."
We arrived at the trailhead and set off, the well-worn path winding its way up the mountainside. The physical exertion felt good, grounding me in the present moment. As we climbed higher, the trees thinned out, offering breathtaking views of the valley below.
About halfway up, we paused at a scenic overlook to catch our breath and hydrate. As I sipped my water, I found myself struck by an odd sense of déjà vu.
"I feel like I've been here before," I murmured, more to myself than to the others.
Dad and Rhea exchanged glances. "We've never hiked this trail before, Rio," Dad said gently.
I shook my head, trying to clear it. "Right, of course. Must be thinking of somewhere else."
Rhea, ever the peacekeeper, quickly changed the subject. "Hey, remember that time Dad tried to teach us how to fish, and he ended up hooking his own hat?"
The memory brought a genuine laugh from all of us, dispelling the momentary tension. As we continued our ascent, Rhea regaled us with more family stories, each one a reminder of the bonds we shared, regardless of blood relation.
Near the summit, we encountered a particularly steep and rocky section. As I navigated it with surprising agility, another flash of memory hit me – scaling a sheer cliff face, my hands finding holds with practiced ease.
"Rio?" Dad's voice broke through my reverie. "You okay there? You kind of zoned out for a second."
I blinked, realizing I had paused mid-climb. "Yeah, sorry. Just... admiring the rocks, I guess."
We reached the summit shortly after, the panoramic view taking our breath away. As we sat on a large, flat rock to enjoy our packed lunch.
"Thanks for this," I said suddenly, causing both Dad and Rhea to look at me curiously. "For being here, for understanding, for... everything."
Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a side hug. "We're always here for you, Rio. No matter what happens with PIUT or these memories of yours."
Rhea nodded in agreement, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "Yeah, you're stuck with us, mystery boy. Better get used to it."
As we began our descent, I felt a renewed sense of calm and determination. The hike had indeed cleared my head, reminding me of what was truly important.
Back at the car, as we prepared for the drive home, Dad paused, his hand on the door handle. "Rio," he said, his voice serious, "I want you to remember something. No matter what you discover about your past, it doesn't change who you are now. The person you've become – that's the real you."
I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Thanks, Dad. I'll remember that."
As we drove home, the setting sun painting the sky in brilliant hues, I am ready to face the interview. The interview was just the first step on a journey of self-discovery, and for the first time in days, I found myself looking forward to it with excitement rather than apprehension.
The night before the interview, I sat at the piano long after the rest of the family had gone to bed. As I played a hauntingly beautiful melody that seemed to come from some deep, hidden part of my psyche.
With the final notes echoing in the quiet house, I closed the piano lid and headed to bed. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new revelations, and perhaps, finally, some answers.
***
The morning of the interview dawned bright and clear. I woke up early, my stomach a knot of nervous excitement. After a quick shower, I stood before my closet, deliberating over what to wear. I finally settled on a crisp white shirt, navy blazer, and dark slacks – professional, but not overly formal.
Downstairs, I found Mom, Dad, and Rhea already in the kitchen. The air was thick with the aroma of coffee and toast, but my appetite had vanished.
"You should eat something," Mom urged, pushing a plate of scrambled eggs towards me.
I managed a few bites, more to appease her than out of hunger. Dad sat across from me, his usual morning paper untouched as he watched me with a mix of pride and concern.
"Remember," he said, his voice gentle but firm, "they'd be lucky to have you. Just be yourself."
Rhea snorted into her orange juice. "Yeah, because 'yourself' is just a regular teenager who happens to be a piano prodigy."
I shot her a grateful smile, appreciating her attempt to lighten the mood.
As we waited outside, a sleek black car pulled up, the PIUT logo emblazoned on its side. A young woman stepped out, introducing herself as Sarah, a student liaison. With final hugs from my family, I climbed into the car, my heart racing as we drove towards the campus.
The PIUT campus was a marvel of modern architecture – all sleek lines and gleaming glass.
As I walked down the hallway, my footsteps echoing on the polished floor, I ran through everything I'd prepared. My academic achievements, extracurricular activities, the complex piano pieces I'd mastered in record time. But how much of that would matter if they started asking about my past?
Sarah led me to the admissions building, her cheerful chatter doing little to calm my nerves. "Good luck!" she said brightly, leaving me at the door of Interview Room 3.
I paused outside Interview Room 3, took one last deep breath, and knocked.
"Come in," a voice called from inside.
I opened the door to find three people seated at a long table. In the center was a distinguished-looking woman with silver hair, flanked by a younger man with thick-rimmed glasses and an older gentleman whose kind eyes immediately put me at ease.
"Welcome, Rio," the woman said, gesturing for me to take a seat. "I'm Dr. Elara Chen, Dean of Admissions. With me are Professor James Hartley and Dr. Sophia Patel. We're delighted to meet you."
As I sat down, I noticed their expressions were impassive, almost disinterested. My confidence wavered slightly. Mentally preparing myself I was startled by Elara's sudden question.
"So, Rio," Dr. Chen began, her piercing gaze seeming to look right through me, "Before we begin would you like a cup of coffee?"
My thoughts went into a frenzy. Isn't this a formal interview? Why would she ask me that? Is she testing me? But she said the interview hasn't started yet. Anyway, it would be rude to decline her offer. I should just take it.
"If it's not too much trouble, I guess I could have one. Thank you," I replied hesitantly.
It was just for a moment, but I saw the corner of her brow rise slightly. She then wrote something in her notes while maintaining eye contact with me.
I f*cked up.