I'm a storyteller: the crux of the matter is to reach beauty

Opening Scene

Host: The night had just begun to settle over the city, casting long shadows that stretched over the cobblestone streets. The air was cool but filled with the warmth of fading light, a hint of distant laughter rising from the old café across the corner. Jack sat at a table by the window, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of his glass, his grey eyes staring out at the gathering darkness. His thoughts were far away, lost in a labyrinth of questions that never seemed to have answers.

Jeeny, walking into the café with the soft elegance that always seemed to contrast with the world around her, made her way toward Jack. Her deep brown eyes were calm, but there was a quiet vibrancy to her that made the room seem just a little brighter. She sat across from him, her fingers grazing her cup, her smile gentle but full of the unspoken understanding that lingered between them.

The chatter around them was distant, as if they were in their own world, a place suspended between thoughts and reality.

Character Descriptions

Jack – Male, around 35, tall, with sharp features and a constant air of pragmatism. His grey eyes carry the weight of someone who questions everything, seeks logic in everything, and struggles to find meaning in things that don't make sense. He is often cynical and guarded, his thoughts always clouded by the need for certainty. His voice is low, sharp, and often measured, like a man weighing every word before it leaves his mouth.

Jeeny – Female, around 30, with a delicate frame and an unshakable inner strength. Her long black hair flows around her like a shadow of elegance, and her brown eyes seem to reflect a world of dreams and possibilities. She speaks softly, but her words are powerful, carrying the weight of empathy, idealism, and the belief that beauty is a thread that connects all things, even the most tragic. Her presence is a soft lullaby in a world that often feels too loud.

Host – The narrator, the quiet observer who guides us through their thoughts and emotions, watching as they navigate the dance of ideas, feelings, and realizations.

Main Debate

Jack: (leaning back in his chair, voice tinged with skepticism) “You know, I’ve been thinking about storytelling lately. About how we always label things, how we define them: comedy, tragedy, drama, romance. But what does any of it really mean? It all feels like a game of categories. Who decides what is what?”

Jeeny: (smiling softly) “I think it’s less about categories and more about essence. The point is to tell a story that reaches the truth. Comedy or tragedy—those are just moods we give to something that transcends those labels. It’s the journey toward the beauty in the story that matters.”

Jack: “But beauty… beauty is subjective, Jeeny. You can’t just say that every story leads to beauty. Sometimes, beauty is impossible to find in the worst of things. Tragedy doesn’t feel beautiful; it’s painful, it’s real. It’s the human condition. It’s suffering.”

Jeeny: “And yet, even in suffering, there is beauty. Just as in comedy, there’s sadness, a layer of truth we often don’t want to face. Take Roberto Benigni’s perspective — he says the crux of storytelling isn’t whether it’s tragic or comic, but if you reach beauty, you reach the heart of it all. You can feel the beauty in the pain, and the laughter in the loss.”

Jack: (frowning) “You can’t possibly believe that. Tragedy isn’t something you laugh at. How do you find beauty in the loss of a loved one, in grief, in the things we can’t change? You can’t just flip a switch and say it’s beautiful.”

Jeeny: (leaning forward) “I’m not saying we flip a switch. But sometimes, in grief, there’s a rawness that shows us who we are, what we’re made of. When we face the darkness, we often find light in places we never expected. It’s not about ignoring the pain, Jack. It’s about seeing the story beyond it — the beauty of resilience, the beauty of love that lasts, even when it’s gone. That’s what makes tragedy worth telling.”

Jack: (a quiet laugh, more bitter than amused) “You make it sound so poetic. But I don’t know… when the world is falling apart, when everything is broken, beauty feels so far away. How do you find it? In the midst of everything? It’s hard to imagine beauty when you’re too busy trying to survive.”

Jeeny: “Because survival itself is beautiful, Jack. Because even when things fall apart, we keep going. That’s the human spirit. Even in comedy, there’s an undercurrent of pain — and in tragedy, there’s often a quiet laughter buried in the absurdity of it all. That’s the thing: beauty doesn’t fit in a neat little box. It’s all around us, even when it hurts.”

Host: The air between them shifted, the tension between their opposing views growing thicker. The city outside hummed with life, but inside the café, the world felt quieter, as if all that mattered was the clash of perspectives. Jack sat back, his arms crossed tightly, while Jeeny held her gaze steady, her eyes unflinching.

Round Two – The Beauty in Conflict

Jack: “But comedy and tragedy are opposites. They feel like they belong to separate worlds. One is full of laughter, the other full of sorrow. It’s hard to connect the two. You can’t put them in the same category. They’re not interchangeable.”

Jeeny: “They’re not opposites, Jack. They’re two sides of the same coin. Comedy can be tragic, and tragedy can be funny. Life isn’t so clean-cut. Look at Benigni’s work — think of ‘Life is Beautiful.’ It’s a story about love and survival in the middle of one of the most horrific times in history, and yet, there’s joy in it. There’s beauty in the struggle.”

Jack: “That’s the thing, though. In a movie like that, you get to turn it into a narrative. You get to control the emotions, the pacing. Life isn’t like that. You don’t get to decide when the tragedy turns to beauty.”

Jeeny: “Maybe not, but you do get to decide how you live it. You get to decide whether to see the beauty in the moments, or whether to let the tragedy consume you. You don’t control the events, but you control how you respond to them. And that’s where the story lies — in the way you find light in the dark, in how you find beauty even in the worst of times.”

Jack: “I don’t know if I’m built for that kind of optimism. It feels like a lie sometimes. A beautiful lie, sure, but a lie.”

Jeeny: “It’s not a lie. It’s the truth. You can be real about the pain and still see beauty. Benigni wasn’t sugar-coating the world — he was showing us that within the pain, we find our most human moments. That’s where the beauty lives.”

Host: Jeeny’s words seemed to settle in the air like the first rays of dawn, soft and patient. Jack was still, his gaze drifting to the window, but there was something in his expression — something new, something not quite sure. He didn’t have the answer, but perhaps, for the first time, he could see the question in a different light.

Round Three – The Surrender to the Story

Jack: (quietly) “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s not about separating them, comedy and tragedy. Maybe they do belong together. But how do you balance them? How do you live both sides without getting lost?”

Jeeny: “I don’t think you balance them. I think you embrace them. You embrace the light, you embrace the dark, and you find your way through both. The beauty is in the journey. It’s in the fact that no matter what happens — whether you laugh or you cry — you’re still here. And that’s a story worth telling.”

Jack: “A story worth telling…” (he repeats softly, the weight of it sinking in) “Maybe that’s the point. It’s not about being perfect, or getting it all right. It’s about living the story, no matter where it takes you.”

Jeeny: “Exactly.”

Host: The room seemed to breathe with a quiet understanding. The words they exchanged had turned from a debate into something softer, something shared. Jack’s gaze had softened, no longer filled with resistance, but with a growing realization that perhaps there was beauty even in the places he hadn’t thought to look.

Closing Scene

Host: The café, now bathed in the soft glow of the evening’s last light, felt like a moment suspended in time. Jeeny reached for her cup, her fingers brushing the rim, her eyes still alight with something deeper than hope. Jack, no longer trapped in his thoughts, simply sat, watching the world outside with a new perspective — not perfect, not fully clear, but enough to know that maybe, just maybe, the beauty of the story was always worth telling.

And in that silence, between them, the world felt a little less divided — a little more whole.