Either/Or

Scene: The Choice Between Two Lives – Jessica and Sam Discuss Either/Or

The night was thick with humidity, the scent of salt and distant rain clinging to the air. The ocean murmured beyond the porch, rolling in slow and steady, a rhythm that never changed. Jessica sat on the steps, one leg stretched out, the other bent beneath her, a cigarette burning lazily between her fingers. Sam sat behind her in his chair, the book resting in his lap. Either/Or.

Jessica smirked, tilting her head toward him. “Alright, hit me. Which one am I?”

Sam smirked back. “Which one do you think?”

Jessica exhaled smoke into the night, tapping the ash away absently. “The aesthetic life is about pleasure. Living in the moment. No deeper meaning, just taking what you can before the clock runs out.” She flicked the cigarette toward the sand. “The ethical life is about responsibility. Meaning. Doing what’s right instead of what’s easy.” She glanced at him. “Most people would say I’ve lived both.”

Sam nodded, watching her carefully. “And which one do you believe in?”

Jessica stretched out her legs, exhaling slowly. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Kierkegaard didn’t say one was better than the other. Just that you have to choose.”

Sam took a slow sip of whiskey. “And what if you don’t?”

Jessica chuckled, shaking her head. “Then you drift. Exist in that space between them, never committing to either one. No meaning, no real pleasure—just existing.”

Sam studied her. “You think that’s where you are?”

Jessica smirked, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I think I’ve spent a long time pretending I haven’t already chosen.”

Sam leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “And?”

Jessica rolled the whiskey glass between her fingers. “And I think it was never really a choice at all.”

Sam arched a brow. “No?”

Jessica exhaled, staring at the dark horizon. “I was made into something. Turned into someone. Everything I am, every choice I make, is reactionary. I didn’t pick this life—it was handed to me. The fight. The need to burn it all down. The refusal to let them win.” She shook her head. “That’s not a choice. It’s gravity.”

Sam watched her for a moment, then said quietly, “But you’re still the one walking.”

Jessica turned to him, brow furrowing slightly.

Sam gestured vaguely with his glass. “Kierkegaard said you have to pick between two lives. But he never said what happens after you choose.” He took a sip. “Maybe the point isn’t the choice. Maybe it’s what you do with it.”

Jessica let that sit for a moment. The waves rolled in, steady and endless.

She finally took a slow sip of whiskey, then exhaled. “So what you’re saying is, even if I didn’t pick this life, I still have to live it.”

Sam nodded. “Something like that.”

Jessica tilted her head. “And what about you? Which one did you pick?”

Sam smirked. “I think you know.”

Jessica chuckled, shaking her head. “You chose the ethical life.”

Sam shrugged. “And you think you didn’t?”

Jessica hesitated.

Sam leaned forward slightly. “You could’ve walked away. Could’ve disappeared, started over, never looked back. But you didn’t.” He met her gaze. “You fight because you care. That’s not aesthetic. That’s responsibility.”

Jessica swallowed, looking away.

Sam let the silence stretch before adding, “I think you already made your choice a long time ago.”

Jessica exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “I really hate when you do that.”

Sam grinned. “I know.”

Jessica took another sip of whiskey, considering his words. Then, quietly: “And what happens now?”

Sam smirked. “Now? You live with it.”

Jessica chuckled dryly, clinking her glass against his.

“For better or worse.”

And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she was trapped between two lives anymore.