I'm a proud New Zealander, and I represent Paralympics New

Opening Scene

The air was thick with humidity as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden glow across the sprawling city. The sound of distant traffic and the occasional murmur of conversations floated in from the open street, but inside the small, quiet café, the world seemed to fall away. Jack leaned against the polished wooden table, his sharp eyes fixed on the half-empty coffee cup in front of him. His fingers lightly traced the edge of the cup, absent-mindedly, as if lost in thought. Jeeny sat across from him, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her brown eyes soft but filled with a quiet fire. She stared at him, waiting.

Host: The evening light dances through the window, catching the steam rising from their cups. Silent tension settles over the table, as if a storm is just waiting to break.

Jeeny: “You believe that the passion in a person’s life is just a flame that fades, don’t you? That everything is just about what we can see, touch — the real, the concrete.”

Jack: Sighs sharply, his gaze never leaving the cup. “What else is there, Jeeny? The world doesn’t care about what you can’t prove, what you can’t touch. Passion, ambition, all of that — it’s just words. You say you love something, but in the end, it’s the results that matter. The truth is in what we can measure.”

Host: The silence lingers for a moment, heavy with his words. Jeeny’s fingers tighten around her cup, and she slowly places it back on the table, her lips pressed together in a thin, determined line.

Jeeny: “You think it’s all about the results, Jack. But what about the people who live for more than just what can be measured? Sophie Pascoe — a Paralympian, for example — she said she does what she loves, and it’s not about the medals or the trophies. She has the ambition to change things outside the pool. It’s about something bigger than herself. Do you really believe that can be reduced to nothing?”

Jack: Leans back, shaking his head. “She’s a hero to people who need a hero, Jeeny. But in the real world, the world that most of us live in, it’s about survival. Change doesn’t happen because someone is passionate. It happens because people work and compromise. There’s no place for idealism in that.”

Host: A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes Jeeny’s lips as she shifts, a flicker of frustration passing through her eyes. The air in the café feels like it’s tightening, thick with unspoken truths.

Jeeny: “But passion is what moves people. It’s the heart of change. Without it, we’re just machines in a system that keeps us numb. Sophie Pascoe doesn’t just swim to win. She competes to show others that they, too, can break free from the bonds of limitations. Ambition isn’t about numbers; it’s about a dream, a belief in something greater than the self.”

Jack: Snorts, his fingers tapping restlessly against the wood. “That’s just a nice story. People don’t change the world because they believe in fairy tales. It’s about what you can do. The truth is, life isn’t fair, and no amount of passion will fix that.”

Host: The shadows stretch across the table, filling the small space with a deeper sense of tension. Jack’s words have hit their mark, but Jeeny’s eyes burn with a quiet defiance.

Jeeny: “But you’re wrong, Jack. Passion isn’t a fairy tale. It’s the very thing that pushes people to defy the odds, to rise above the circumstances. It’s about believing in what’s possible, even when everything tells you it’s impossible. Sophie’s drive to change things outside the pool — that’s the real power of the human spirit.”

Jack: “And where does that get her when the money runs out, or when the world turns its back on her? Change doesn’t happen with passion, Jeeny. It happens with pragmatism, with strategy. Passion is just a feeling, a temporary spark that fades.”

Host: The tension in the café thickens as the words hang between them, sharp and cutting. A moment of stillness, before Jeeny leans forward, her voice low but firm.

Jeeny: “Then tell me, Jack… what’s the point of all that strategy and pragmatism if there’s nothing worth fighting for? If there’s no heart, no soul to what we do? Sophie’s fight isn’t about proving something to the world. It’s about showing everyone that they’re worth something. That’s change.”

Jack: His eyes soften for a moment, his voice quieter now, more personal. “Maybe. But not everyone gets to live that dream, Jeeny. Some people don’t get the luxury of passion. The world is brutal, and real life doesn’t always leave room for dreamers.”

Host: The room feels still, like time has stretched into eternity. The last light of the day pours through the window, touching the edges of their faces, illuminating their frustration, their pain, and the depth of their beliefs.

Jeeny: “Maybe it’s not about luxury, Jack. Maybe it’s about purpose. Because without purpose, we’re just drifting. And I don’t want to just drift. I want to believe in something that matters. Even if the world doesn’t.”

Jack: He closes his eyes for a moment, the weight of her words settling deep. Sighs, his voice low but not without a trace of respect. “Maybe… maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s not just about what we can see or measure. Maybe it’s about something bigger. But I’m not sure the world’s ready to change that way.”

Host: The silence that follows feels heavy, but not in the same way it did before. There’s a shared understanding now, an unspoken truth hanging in the air.

Jeeny: “The world will never be ready, Jack. But that’s why we have to fight for it.”

Host: Outside, the rain begins to fall softly, tapping against the window. The light dims, but inside, a new quiet has settled between them, peaceful, yet tinged with the faintest glimmer of understanding.

End.