I never give advice unless someone asks me for it. One thing I've

Opening Scene – Narrated by Host

The late afternoon sun slanted through the open window, casting long, golden beams across the wooden table. The air smelled faintly of fresh rain, mingling with the rich scent of coffee. Jack sat across from Jeeny, his hands resting on the table, fingers tapping absentmindedly against the smooth surface. His eyes, cold and distant, reflected the warmth of the room, though his expression remained a mask of unreadable tension. Jeeny, on the other hand, looked out the window, her brow furrowed as if she were thinking of something far away. She turned to him, her voice soft but firm.

Jack: (Looking up, his voice low and measured)
“I’ve never been the type to hand out advice, Jeeny. People have their own lives, their own choices. They don’t need me stepping in, telling them what’s right.”

Jeeny: (Turning to face him, eyes narrowed, her voice gentle yet filled with determination)
“Is that why you always seem to pull away, Jack? Are you afraid to tell someone what they might need to hear, even if they don’t ask?”

Jack: (Sighing, his voice growing slightly sharp)
“Maybe. I’ve learned that advice can be a double-edged sword. You offer it with the best of intentions, but people don’t always listen. Most of the time, they end up resenting it. I don’t want to be that person, Jeeny. The one who thinks their personal experience holds the answers to someone else’s problems.”

Jeeny: (Her fingers tighten around her cup, her eyes catching his, a hint of passion in her voice)
“But advice isn’t about telling them what to do. It’s about sharing what you’ve learned, what you’ve seen, what’s worked for you. Don’t you think that can help someone? Even if they don’t ask for it?”

Host: The silence stretches between them, a space filled with unspoken thoughts and old memories. The light dims as the sun begins to sink lower, casting longer shadows over the two figures. Jack runs a hand through his hair, his thoughts clearly racing.

Jack: (Pausing, his voice turning reflective, a hint of something softening in his tone)
“You don’t understand. People… they don’t want to be changed. They want to figure things out on their own, even if it takes them longer, even if it hurts more. Who am I to think I can make it better, just because I’ve been there?”

Jeeny: (Her lips part in disbelief, her voice gentle, yet unwavering)
“Who are you to not try? Sometimes, the hardest thing we can do is simply reach out, offer a hand. People are so afraid of being judged or criticized that they shut themselves off from any help. But sometimes, Jack… sometimes someone has to say something. Even if it’s not what they want to hear.”

Host: Jack’s jaw tightens, his hands now gripping the edge of his cup. His gaze flickers to Jeeny, but his expression remains guarded, almost defensive. The tension in the room builds, but there’s something else too — an aching understanding beneath it all.

Jack: (A soft chuckle, almost bitter)
“People like that… they don’t listen. They only hear what they want to hear. I’ve seen it too many times. No matter how much you care, how much you try to help, they’ll just ignore you, or worse… they’ll resent you for thinking you know better.”

Jeeny: (Leaning forward, her eyes fierce now, a deep conviction in her voice)
“That’s true, sometimes. But it doesn’t mean we should stop trying. If you’ve lived through something, if you’ve come out the other side, you owe it to others to share that. Not to force it on them, but to offer it, gently, like a gift. And sometimes, Jack, people don’t know they need it until you show them. Even the hardest lessons are the ones that help us grow.”

Host: Jack’s gaze falters for just a moment, the weight of Jeeny’s words settling in his chest. The faint rustling of wind outside is the only sound, as though the world is holding its breath. He leans back, running a hand through his hair, his eyes now fixed on the empty cup in front of him.

Jack: (Softly, more to himself than to her)
“I’ve tried before. But it’s like trying to get water out of a stone. They don’t want it. And when they do ask, they only want what supports what they already believe. They don’t want something that challenges them.”

Jeeny: (Her voice quiet but intense, as though she’s been waiting to say this)
“That’s exactly why it matters, Jack. Real growth doesn’t come from listening to what we want to hear. It comes from hearing things that shake us, that make us uncomfortable. When you stop giving advice, you stop giving people the chance to change, to grow.”

Host: The light shifts once more, casting shadows across their faces. For a long time, neither of them speaks. The room seems full of the weight of what’s been said, the air thick with the unspoken truth. Jack looks out the window, his eyes clouded with something deeper than just skepticism.

Jack: (Finally, his voice soft, almost apologetic)
“Maybe… Maybe I’ve been wrong. Maybe I hold back too much. But it’s just that I don’t want to hurt anyone by pushing them to see something they’re not ready for.”

Jeeny: (Her expression softens, a small smile tugging at her lips)
“I know, Jack. I know. You’re afraid of making things worse. But there’s a balance, isn’t there? Between sharing and forcing, between listening and speaking. It’s not about giving advice for the sake of it. It’s about offering a piece of truth, without expecting anything in return.”

Host: The room feels still, as if the air itself is holding onto their words. Outside, the last remnants of sunlight stretch across the horizon, casting a soft glow through the window. Jack and Jeeny sit there, both deep in thought. The quiet between them is not uncomfortable but filled with the weight of understanding, and perhaps even a hint of reconciliation.

Jack: (Looking at Jeeny, a soft smile forming on his lips)
“Maybe… Maybe there’s something to it, after all.”

Jeeny: (Her eyes glimmering with something gentle and knowing)
“We don’t have to change the world, Jack. We just have to be there for the people who need us… when they’re ready.”

Host: The last shimmer of daylight fades into the approaching night, and for a moment, the room is nothing but the soft sound of their breathing, the quiet understanding that hangs between them. The tension dissolves into something more gentle, more human.

End Scene.