My parents were dishonest people. If it was my birthday, I knew

Opening Scene – Narrated by Host

The air in the apartment was thick with dust, heavy with memories. The late evening light filtered weakly through the blinds, casting a pale, almost sickly glow across the room. The furniture was old, mismatched, the walls lined with remnants of lives past, half-forgotten in the shadows. Outside, the world moved in a blur, cars passing by, people rushing through the streets — but inside, it was still, as if time had slowed down and forgotten this corner of the world.

Jack sat on the worn-out couch, one leg draped over the edge, his fingers running through his hair absentmindedly. His face was unreadable, eyes lost in thought. He took a sip from his glass, the amber liquid catching the last rays of the sun, now dipping below the horizon.

Jeeny stood at the window, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of streetlights, her arms crossed as she watched the world outside. Her expression was soft but sharp, a quiet intensity to her presence.

Jack broke the silence, his voice low, almost pensive.

Jack: “You ever think about how you’re raised? I mean, not just the small stuff, but the big stuff. Like... what you learn from the people who are supposed to teach you about right and wrong.”

Jeeny turned, her gaze locking with his. She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she stepped closer, tilting her head slightly, as if searching for something in his words.

Jeeny: “You mean, like, what kind of foundation we get? What we inherit, not just in terms of what we’re taught but also what we’re shown?”

Jack: “Yeah. Something like that. Like, there are things that people do — things that aren’t supposed to be normal, but somehow, they become part of who we are. Take Vincent Gallo, for example. He says his parents were dishonest people. He knew, from the start, that his mother would steal his birthday toy, and she’d do it without hesitation. It’s messed up, right?”

Host: The room feels colder now, the silence between them thick with unsaid words. The weight of Jack’s statement lingers, the scent of whiskey in the air mixing with the quiet hum of the outside world. Jeeny steps forward, her eyes unwavering.

Jeeny: “You think that’s just about the stealing, Jack? That’s what you’re focused on? The toy, the act itself?”

Jack: “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just trying to make sense of it. How does someone grow up in that kind of world, where dishonesty is just part of the air you breathe? How does that shape a person? And then... what does it do to you later in life?”

Jeeny’s expression hardens just slightly, her fingers brushing the edge of the table as she turns to face him directly.

Jeeny: “It’s not just the stealing. It’s about what that teaches someone, what it becomes. If you’re taught that the world is something you can manipulate, that the rules don’t apply to you — then everything changes. You see everything through a lens of self-preservation, don’t you? You learn that there’s no right or wrong when it comes to getting what you want.”

Host: The air in the room is charged now, the atmosphere thick with a kind of heaviness that comes from truth being spoken too plainly. Jack shifts on the couch, his fingers tapping on his glass, the rhythm slow and deliberate.

Jack: “But doesn’t it screw you up in the long run? Doesn’t it make you question everything — whether you can trust anyone? When you’re taught that it’s normal to bend the rules, doesn’t that break something inside you?”

Jeeny steps closer, her voice quieter now but full of conviction.

Jeeny: “It does. It breaks something, sure. But it also builds something new, something else. You learn how to survive in a world that doesn’t always play fair. You learn that trust is something you have to earn, not just expect. But you also learn the cost of that dishonesty. You can’t hide from it forever. Eventually, it all catches up.”

Jack: “But what if it doesn’t? What if you spend your entire life learning the wrong things and never unlearn them? What if you live in a world that’s built on lies and manipulation, and all you ever know is how to take without ever really knowing how to give?”

Jeeny: “Then you end up like someone who can’t see past the surface of things. You end up so self-absorbed that you can’t even see the damage you’ve done — to others, to yourself. That’s the danger of growing up in an environment like that, Jack. But the important part is not just what you’re shown. It’s what you decide to do with it. What you decide to become.”

Host: Jack’s eyes narrow as he listens, the weight of her words sinking in. The room feels smaller now, the air thick with the kind of conversation that holds no easy answers. Jeeny stands still, her posture unshaken, but there’s something more vulnerable in her eyes than before — a flicker of empathy beneath the surface.

Jack: “So you think we can choose to be different, even after being taught all the wrong things? You really believe that?”

Jeeny pauses for a long moment, her gaze softening as she speaks, her voice quieter now, as if she’s speaking from a place that’s deeper than reason.

Jeeny: “I don’t think it’s easy. I don’t think it’s clean. But I do think we can choose. Forgiveness, for ourselves, for others, even for the lies we were told. It doesn’t erase what happened, but it lets us move forward. The real question is, Jack — are you going to stay who you were taught to be, or are you going to choose who you want to become?”

Host: The quiet between them stretches, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall. Jack leans back, the weight of the conversation heavy on his chest. He doesn’t have an immediate answer, but something shifts in the air — a kind of recognition.

Jack: “I guess… maybe it’s not just about changing what you were taught. Maybe it’s about choosing to see what’s real, what’s worth holding onto, even after everything else is gone.”

Jeeny smiles softly, the lines of tension in her shoulders easing.

Jeeny: “Exactly. It’s about finding what you can trust again — not just in the world, but in yourself.”

Host: The night settles deeper, the city outside continuing its relentless movement. Inside, Jack and Jeeny sit in the quiet, the conversation over but the feeling lingering. The past is never truly gone, but in this moment, they’ve begun to find a way forward, one small step at a time.

Climax and Reconciliation

Jack’s face softens, the skepticism slowly leaving his eyes, replaced with something quieter, something less certain but more grounded. Jeeny’s presence, steady and unyielding, seems to give him the space he needs to reflect. There are no easy answers, no perfect resolutions — but there is a shared understanding now, something unspoken but deeply felt.

The world outside continues to turn, and inside, for just a moment, everything feels like it might just be okay.