Surround yourself with good people. Whether they're the best or

Host: The train station was almost empty. Only the sound of a distant announcement and the faint hum of a vending machine broke the silence. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting uneven pools of light across the cold marble floor. Outside, a soft mist rolled over the tracks, blurring the edges of everything — like a dream that refused to end.

Jack sat on a bench, his coat unbuttoned, his collar wet from the fog. His grey eyes looked tired, but not from sleep — from people, perhaps. From noise. From trust. Jeeny sat beside him, her hands wrapped around a paper cup of coffee, her dark hair slightly damp, her face illuminated by the orange glow of a nearby sign.

Host: They had both just left a meeting — another team fractured by ego and doubt. The world of work and ideals, where everyone spoke of vision, but few believed in goodness.

Jeeny: “You know what Kid Rock said once? ‘Surround yourself with good people. Whether they’re the best or not, people are capable of learning if they’ve got good hearts and good souls.’ I’ve been thinking about that all day.”

Jack: (chuckles, low and rough) “Kid Rock said that? Huh. Not exactly the philosopher I expected you to quote tonight.”

Jeeny: (smiling faintly) “Philosophers come in all shapes, Jack. Even ones with guitars and whiskey.”

Host: Jack leaned back, his hands folded behind his head, his eyes wandering up toward the station ceiling, where an old fan turned lazily, sighing like it had seen too many goodbyes.

Jack: “Good hearts and good souls. Sounds nice. But you know what I’ve learned? Good people still make bad decisions. A good soul doesn’t mean a capable mind.”

Jeeny: “But a capable mind without a good soul can do worse, Jack. That’s the point. You can always teach a skill, but you can’t teach decency.”

Host: Her voice was calm, but there was an edge beneath it — a conviction that glowed quietly, like embers waiting for a wind.

Jack: “I’ve hired people with ‘good hearts.’ Some of them froze under pressure. Some quit when things got hard. And some smiled to your face while plotting behind your back. You can’t just trust someone because they look kind, Jeeny. Life’s not that sentimental.”

Jeeny: “It’s not about looking kind. It’s about the intent behind their effort. People who care — who genuinely want to do right — they learn, Jack. Even if they stumble. The problem isn’t failure. It’s coldness.”

Host: The train lights in the distance flickered, a faint beam in the fog, like an approaching truth neither wanted to face yet. Jack turned, his eyes on her, that familiar half-smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth.

Jack: “You think good intentions are enough to make someone worth keeping around?”

Jeeny: “No. But they’re the start. Without them, everything else is hollow. You can have a room full of geniuses — but if not one of them cares about anyone else, it all collapses.”

Jack: “That’s idealistic. The world runs on results, not good hearts.”

Jeeny: “Then why does every empire that forgets its humanity eventually fall?”

Host: The words landed like a quiet blow. Jack’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t speak immediately. He watched a pigeon flutter through the open rafters, its wings cutting through the dusty light.

Jack: “You’re talking history again.”

Jeeny: “Always. Because it repeats. Look at the Soviet engineers under Stalin — brilliant, efficient, loyal on paper. But they lived in fear, Jack. Fear doesn’t build; it only obeys. The greatest progress happens when people believe in what they’re building — and in each other.”

Jack: “Belief doesn’t lay the bricks, Jeeny.”

Jeeny: “No, but it decides which direction they’re laid.”

Host: Jack sighed, rubbing his temples. The fog outside thickened, pressing against the glass, like the world itself was listening.

Jack: “You really think a ‘good heart’ can save a broken system?”

Jeeny: “Not alone. But it’s where repair begins. You can’t build trust with brilliance. Only with sincerity.”

Jack: (leaning forward) “And what if sincerity fails? What if the people you trust let you down? What then?”

Jeeny: “Then you teach them. You don’t abandon them. People learn faster when they’re believed in.”

Host: Jack’s jaw tightened, the shadow of old disappointments flickering across his face.

Jack: “I believed in people once. I had a friend — Mark — good heart, like you’d say. Honest, kind. But when the project fell apart, he vanished. No calls. No help. Just gone. I don’t build teams on trust anymore. I build them on reliability.”

Jeeny: “Maybe he disappeared not out of betrayal, but out of shame. Good hearts aren’t flawless, Jack. They just feel the weight of failure more. Maybe that’s what you missed.”

Host: Her words hung there, soft yet piercing. Jack’s eyes flickered — pain and pride colliding.

Jack: “You always find a reason to forgive people.”

Jeeny: “Because I’ve needed forgiveness myself. And because when I look back, the only people who ever helped me grow were the ones who believed I could.”

Host: The train finally arrived, roaring in a burst of light and steam. The sound filled the station, yet their voices cut through it — steady, intimate.

Jack: “You really think surrounding yourself with good souls is enough to make the world better?”

Jeeny: “No. But it’s the only way I know how to start.”

Host: Jack stared at the ground, the reflection of the train’s light dancing on his shoes. His breath slowed, his tone softened.

Jack: “You might be right. Maybe skill builds machines, but hearts build movement.”

Jeeny: (smiling) “Exactly. And people with good hearts learn faster — not because they’re smarter, but because they care.”

Host: The doors of the train opened with a hiss. A few passengers boarded, their faces half-hidden in mist. Jack and Jeeny remained, silent, watching the light shift.

Jack: “Maybe I’ve been looking for perfect people. When what I needed was good ones.”

Jeeny: “Perfection’s a myth, Jack. But goodness — that’s a choice.”

Host: The moment stretched, filled with the hum of the engines and the echo of truth between them. The train pulled away, its red lights fading into the fog, leaving only the two of them, and the faint glow of a single lamp overhead.

Jack: “You always make it sound so simple.”

Jeeny: “Not simple. Just… human.”

Host: She stood, buttoning her coat, the mist curling around her like a veil. Jack followed, a faint smile breaking through the weariness.

As they walked, their footsteps echoed down the empty corridor, mingling with the last whisper of the departing train.

Host: The camera would have lingered there — on two figures walking side by side, one hardened by experience, one softened by faith — both carrying the truth that no one ever truly walks alone when the souls beside them are good.

The fog lifted just enough to reveal the stars above — faint, but real, and learning, like people do, how to shine again.