After a fellow gets famous it doesn't take long for someone to

The evening had settled over the city, casting a soft, golden hue through the windows of the café. The streets outside seemed quieter than usual, as if the world had paused just for a moment. Jack sat by the window, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup, his eyes distant, watching the ebb and flow of life outside. Jeeny sat across from him, her expression thoughtful, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of her napkin.

Host: The soft hum of the café felt oddly comforting, a distant melody of quiet conversations and clinking cups filling the space. Finally, Jeeny broke the silence, her voice light but carrying the weight of something deeper.

Jeeny: “I was thinking about something I read earlier. Kin Hubbard once said, ‘After a fellow gets famous it doesn’t take long for someone to bob up that used to sit by him in school.’ Have you ever noticed how that always happens? The moment someone gets a little recognition, suddenly, everyone from their past starts to pop up?”

Jack: His lips curled into a small smirk, but there was something in his eyes that suggested he’d heard this before. “It’s always the same, isn’t it? As soon as someone makes it, the crowd starts showing up, claiming they knew them all along. They disappear when you need them, but the minute you get some attention, they’re there, waiting in the wings.”

Jeeny: She leaned forward slightly, her eyes locking onto his, her voice soft but filled with a quiet understanding. “But what does that say about people? Why do they wait for someone to become successful before they come forward? Does it mean that people only recognize your worth when others start to see it too?”

Host: The air between them seemed to shift, the question hanging in the space like an unspoken challenge. Jack shifted in his seat, his fingers still on the edge of his cup as he considered her words.

Jack: “I think it says more about how people like to associate themselves with success. It’s easy to be around someone when they’re already on top. It makes you feel like you’re part of something bigger, even if you didn’t do anything to help get them there. People like being associated with winners because it reflects well on them. But how many of them actually stick around when you’re struggling?”

Jeeny: A soft sigh escaped her lips, her eyes clouded for a moment. “But don’t you think there’s something a little shallow about that? To only value someone when they’ve achieved success? Isn’t there more to a person than their fame, than their accomplishments? Shouldn’t people see the value in someone long before the world starts paying attention?”

Host: The light in the café flickered as if in response to the emotion in her voice. There was a quiet tension now, a sense of something deeper lurking beneath the surface of their conversation. Jack didn’t immediately respond, his gaze falling toward the street outside, watching the figures move by.

Jack: “It’s easy to say that, Jeeny, but the world isn’t built that way. Recognition is what drives a lot of people. You get the accolades, the attention, and suddenly, everyone wants to be a part of it. It’s a game. The world rewards those who stand out, and everyone wants to be connected to that. But you’re right, there’s something a little fake about it. Everyone loves a winner until the game changes.”

Jeeny: Her eyes softened, and she leaned back slightly in her chair, her voice taking on a quieter, more reflective tone. “I just think it’s sad sometimes. People forget the real connections, the friendships that matter, until there’s something to gain. It makes me wonder how many genuine relationships are lost in the pursuit of success. How many people truly care, not because of what you can do for them, but because of who you are.”

Host: The café around them seemed to grow quieter, the clinking of cups and the soft murmur of conversation fading as their words filled the space. Jack’s expression softened, his lips pressed into a thin line as he took a moment to absorb what she had said.

Jack: “I don’t know, Jeeny. Maybe I’m too cynical, but it’s hard to find real people in a world that values fame over everything else. But I do get what you’re saying. The people who stick around, the ones who genuinely care, they’re the ones who count. And maybe that’s what makes real success — not the fame, but the people who are still there when no one else is.”

Jeeny: Her smile, though soft, was filled with a quiet reassurance, a sense of understanding that only a true connection could bring. “Exactly. I think, in the end, it’s the genuine connections, the real friendships that matter. Fame can be fleeting, but the people who stick by you — through the highs and the lows — they’re the ones who make life worth living.”

Host: The air in the café felt lighter now, the weight of their conversation still lingering, but softened by the mutual understanding between them. Outside, the world continued to move, the faint echo of footsteps on the pavement a reminder that life goes on, regardless of success or recognition. Jack sat back, his expression pensive, his thoughts clearly shifting with each word exchanged.

Jack: “Maybe it’s not about waiting for people to come forward when things get good. Maybe it’s about finding the ones who will stick around, no matter what.”

Jeeny: “Exactly, Jack. That’s where the true value is.”

Host: The quiet that followed was filled with a sense of peace, a shared understanding between them. The world outside continued on, and within the café, the only sound was the gentle hum of life moving forward — unchanging, yet full of possibility.