The day after the livestream, Joseph immediately started laying out plans. He also tried refining the Spectrum, but eventually gave up. Then, he reviewed all the policies that had been set out for him, with the help of Lawson, of course. The repercussions of relying too much on him came to mind, but they were waived off for the moment.

After the meetings and after the policy reviewing came a moment where he had free time.

What did the president do when he had free time? Golf? He had no idea how to play golf, and frankly, he wasn't intrested in golf anyways.

No, instead he sat at his desk and turned the pen over and over in his hand, mind taking a delve into emptiness.

He took a shower yet no ideas came to mind. He viewed the books on the shelves aimlessly, and turned the globe around and around.

Listlessly, he slumped on the chair and took another study into nothingness. He lifted up his phone and played a few games, but didn't even enjoy the experience.

He stuffed his phone back into his pocket and felt some resistance. Frowning, he dug deep and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper. He then unfolded it and viewed his writing.

He stood up - the amount of effort to stop being slovenly came to him in that brief span of time where it had eluded his grasp like soap in a bathtub earlier - and he flipped the whiteboard around to view his graph once more.

His lips moved...he mouthed, take that step from dreamer to doer. God! What was he doing? He snapped out of his reverie with a shake of his head. Thank God that he had somehow found the strength to escape that foul grasp of sloth and content: time was a-wasting and there were still so many problems he could solve!

He tapped the side of his forehead. "Lawson!"

Lawson, like the cat he was, gracefully slunked out of the shadows. "Yes, your honour?" The Assitant teased, lips curling. That call could only mean one thing: there was to be another long rant and some problem to be solving.

"Have we found anyone to look into the hospitals yet?"

"I know just the one, sir."

"Lawson, please don't do this." Joseph rubbed his face.

"Do what, sir?"

"Adress me like that."

"Very well, sir."

Joseph groaned, his shoulders slumped. He waved offhandedly with his other hand. "On the other hand, how goes the progress of the... what was the name? that one of the medical insurance and pharmaceutical companies."

"The fuck-you-letter, sir."

Joseph did his best not to sigh - as it was, his forehead creased further and the air still escaped his lips. "Yes, the fuck-you-letter. How goes that?"

"We're still compiling it, sir."

"Alright, thank you, Lawson. By the by, do you have any ideas to increase jobs other than just nationalising industries? I fear the citizens and other...more influentials may not take a liking to something so close to what they abhore."

"Recyling, sir. Also-"

"Recycling?! What?" The expression of the President exposed his current state of emotions.

"Indeed. You should research on San Fransico, sir. And, one word of advice?" Lawson continued anyways. "Please make a conscious effort not to overshare too much. TMI, as we say. Haha! And please, state it as it is. Communism is not He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named." Lawson's smile turned just the slightest bit sad. "It would only cause more people to fear it."

Joseph considered this, and stomped his emotions out of turmoil. "Thank you."

Lawson bowed. "No, thank you, sir." He left the room.

Joseph thought a bit more, his head lowered. Then he rose and yelled, 'Lawson!"

Lawson tilted himself back into the room. "Yes, sir?"

"Stop doing that."

And the slight dissonance between President and Servant Assistant was quelled somewhat. Bottled. Lawson waltzed out of view.

Joseph thought a bit more. "Too easy," he concluded, "too easy to fall off either side of the tightrope." History does not repeat, but it does rhyme. So many other dreamers had fell off the rope for some reason or other. Worse were the fate of those who faltered at the last step.

And, and,

If there were no one you could trust -

No, Joseph decided. It was not the time to start thinking the worse of people. This seed of doubt in his heart, this inner demon, will no doubt end him. He had to resolve it. He considered this. Oh, to be self conscious was a terrible thing.

He pulled out a sheet of paper and wrote.

1. I do not trust Lawson.

2. Why?

3. There is no reason to not trust Lawson.

4. I need a psychologist.

5. Why am I not trusting of Lawson?

6. Who is in control?

7. Why am I already not trusting of them?

8. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. This distrust will only end me. It will result in a failure.

9. I should talk to Lawson.

He made up his mind.

"Lawson!"

10. I should apologise for treating him as a servant. Respect goes both ways. And I need to respect him both as a person, a living, human being, someone who has lived a life as vibrant, or even better than mine, and as someone who will help me in fulfilling my ambitions dreams ambitions.