Joshev

Deep in the realm of the Golden Concretes, eyes barely could see what beyond the gloomy dusk was.It was a foggy twilight.

Joshev Rabin Brownsimov was of the second generation of the blood he inherited down from his grandfather, Ricardovich. His cold brown eyes gazed upon the crowded city landmark, his body felt so tired of today's three hours negotiation meeting. As what other white-collar bachelor usually did every tiresome night, he preferred to sip a glass of capuccino near the subway on his way home to his small albeit cozy enough apartment in the suburb area, sometimes along with his tablet when he thought he caught an idea to write. An idea soon being communicated to his supervisor, deliberately wasn't being talked to that he was really the First Hand upon where the company would fall to.

So there it went; being tested as an apprentice to his father, no matter how he already held a frozen 30 million dollars share he would be managing for the first quarter after he finishes his first six months apprentice, Joshev was undoubtedly underestimated and bullied by his seniors. All facility should he have as the Silver Spoon holder was taken away; all that left were a couch,a standard, middle-class old kitchen, and a small shower up in his apartment.

There were two options his father actually offered: the Right One, where he was supposed to be placed straight up the Director Board, where he would be treated as a Japanese Emperor in the era of Douglas Macarthur; visible but no power, all he would do be nodding to every decision they make. And maybe so do England and German kings.

The Left One, where he would scratch from the very grass root, with all the dramas within.

Having obtained his doctoral degree in Economics and Business, and his rich mathematic culture from Phillips Exeter Academy, nothing would stop Joshev to take the Left Option.