We're on some path that's set since we're born, but I still

Opening Scene

The rain fell gently against the cracked pavement, the rhythmic tapping almost like a silent accompaniment to the fading light of dusk. The air was thick with moisture, and the world felt a little slower, more introspective. Jack sat by the window, a half-drunk cup of coffee in his hands, his grey eyes focused on the distant horizon, as if looking for answers in the emptiness. Jeeny sat across from him, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her own cup. There was something in the air — a heaviness, an unspoken tension between them.

A silence lingered, the kind that fills a room with words left unsaid, before Jack finally broke it.

Character Descriptions

Jack

Male, around 35, tall and lean but strong. Sharp-featured face, grey eyes, low husky voice. Pragmatic, logical, skeptical, often cynical. Speaks sharply, sometimes sarcastic, but carries hidden pain and loneliness.

Jeeny

Female, around 30, small frame, long black hair, deep brown eyes. Soft-spoken and emotional, yet fierce when defending her beliefs. Represents morality, empathy, and the power of the heart. Speaks poetically and with conviction.

Host

The narrator, an objective observer. Describes scenery, atmosphere, lighting, movements, inner emotions, and the rhythm of tension. Has a cinematic voice — like a camera lens observing the story.

Jack:
(softly) "I’ve been thinking about that quote of yours, Jeeny. ‘We're on some path that's set since we're born... but I still believe we can change some things. So I believe in my faith, but I still don't believe in my fate.’"

(He takes a long sip of coffee, his eyes narrowing as he sets the cup down on the table.)

"Sounds like something someone says when they're trying to find some comfort. You really think we can change things? That fate isn’t just some illusion we’ve built for ourselves to feel less small in the world?"

Jeeny:
(her voice soft, but firm) "Why do you always have to be so cynical, Jack? Why is faith always something to be mocked? You can’t see that what we believe, what we choose to believe, shapes who we are — who we become. It’s not about destiny or fate, but about choosing to believe we have the power to change things."

(She looks at him, her deep brown eyes piercing.)

"I’ve seen people change, Jack. I’ve seen it in people who shouldn’t have had the strength to. People fighting their own demons, and still, they choose to believe, to push forward. You don’t think that matters?"

Jack:
(he leans forward, his voice sharp)
"People fight because they have to. It's survival, Jeeny, not faith. People fight because they have no choice, because their lives are already on the line. Survival isn't the same as hope."

(He shakes his head, a tightness in his jaw.)

"You can say whatever you want, but when it all comes down to it, we’re just riding out this wave. Life doesn't hand you a map — it gives you a current, and you have to just keep your head above water. You think there’s a reason behind it? That it’s all part of some grand plan?"

Jeeny:
(she leans in slightly, her voice quieter, but no less intense)
"Yes, I do. You think all those people who’ve ever fought for change did it just for the sake of survival? Think of people like Martin Luther King, or Gandhi. They didn’t just survive the world, they changed it — because they believed in something greater than themselves. They didn’t resign themselves to fate. They fought for something better, Jack."

(She places her cup down gently on the table, staring into his eyes.)

"Fate isn’t what happens to you. It’s what you make of what happens. You’ve got to have faith, Jack, otherwise, what’s the point of going on?"

Jack:
(he scoffs, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice growing more bitter)
"Faith? Faith in what, Jeeny? People like Gandhi and King are the exception, not the rule. What about the millions of others who fight every day, who struggle, who die for nothing? You really think they’re meant to be something greater? That their lives had some purpose beyond the suffering?"

(He stands up abruptly, walking towards the window, his fingers tracing the wet glass as the storm outside begins to intensify.)

"It’s just a story we tell ourselves, Jeeny. Fate is a lie. It’s easier to believe in something than face the fact that we’re just here, in a world that doesn’t care."

Jeeny:
(she stands as well, moving toward him with a quiet strength)
"That’s where you’re wrong, Jack. We are here — and that means something. Every moment matters. Every choice we make can ripple into something bigger. You can’t just walk through this life with your head down, waiting for it to end."

(She stops a few steps behind him, her voice almost a whisper, but filled with emotion.)

"Look at me, Jack. You say there’s no purpose, but why do we keep going? Why do we keep fighting for things we can’t even see — for a future we might never experience? It’s because we believe in something, whether we admit it or not. Hope is the one thing we have left when everything else falls apart."

(Silence lingers in the air, the storm outside now louder, the wind howling. Jack stands still for a moment, his back to her.)

Host:
The wind rattles the windows, but inside, a stillness settles. The tension hangs like the stormclouds overhead — dark, heavy, and waiting to break. Jack’s hands are trembling now, just barely visible against the faint glow of the fading light. Jeeny stands a few paces away, her figure bathed in the soft amber of the lamplight, her eyes searching him.

Jack:
(quietly, almost to himself)
"I don’t know anymore, Jeeny. I really don’t. It’s like... it’s like I’m drowning, but I can’t even see the shore."

(She steps closer, a soft touch on his shoulder, grounding him in that moment.)

Jeeny:
"You don’t have to see the shore to swim toward it, Jack. Sometimes, it’s about believing the shore is there — even if we can’t see it."

(They stand there, silence falling between them once again, but this time, the air feels different. Less like a fight, and more like a shared truth that hasn’t yet fully found its form.)

Host:
The rain begins to ease, as if the world is breathing again, but neither Jack nor Jeeny moves. The moment hangs in the air — not resolved, not finished, but suspended. The light outside softens, and the faintest glimmer of dawn begins to creep through the clouds.

And for the first time in a long while, Jack doesn’t feel so alone.

End Scene