Leo strode down the hallway and stepped into the elevator.
The metal doors slid slowly shut. The car vibrated slightly as it began its descent.
Leo looked up, gazing at his reflection in the elevator's stainless steel doors.
His suit was immaculate, his hair perfectly coiffed. He looked like a real big shot.
Just moments ago, he had been boasting to Roosevelt, declaring that being mayor wasn't the final goal, that he had far greater ambitions.
That drive was real.
But now, as the adrenaline faded, the sense of powerlessness rising from the soles of his feet was also real.
The two weren't mutually exclusive.
Ambition was the fuel, but reality was the heavy, rusted engine.
Governing and campaigning were two completely different things.
An election was a raging fire.
During an election, the world was black and white. Enemies were enemies, and allies were allies.
