Collision (Mature) *Completed*

Micheal

"You're grasping at straws now. I was just as qualified, if not more." Micheal lied to himself. Whenever they did apply for the same positions, Vivian's resume ran laps around his own every time.

"Yeah, I'll admit you got one big qualifier that I don't." She chuckled sarcastically as she turned to look back towards the monitor. Her ease in brushing him off was something he desperately wanted to correct.

Micheal was a man of order. Everything in his life had gone just as he planned it from his work life to sex life. There were seldom times when his authority was questioned- 99% of which came from Vivian.

"Vivian, no one hates you because you're black." He rolled his eyes before picking up his laptop once more. If she was going to ignore him, he would do the same. The thought of following in her footsteps caused his stomach to turn.

Before he could even read another line on the screen, the laptop was swiftly closed with a harsh smack. Vivian hovered over him, her perfume clouding his head as he took in her features up close. Her skin remained flawless, her lips soft, and her eyes held a misleading innocence.

"Don't. You're already on a thin rope, don't sever it with your ignorance." Her voice was low, filled with authority that would cause anyone else to shrink back in their seat. Micheal could feel himself become excited at the matched dominance.

"I'm just being honest. If you can't handle the truth, you should look into a new profession." The response was weak but it sparked the fire in her eyes- a look Micheal loved to see. Her manicured hands balled at her sides and she began taking deep breaths.

"You wanna do this? Alright let's do it." Vivian leaned against her desk, her arms folded over her chest.

Micheal's eyes drifted to her hips, his mind memorizing how they rounded into her thick thighs. Looking down, he scolded himself for objectifying her but as he looked back up he couldn't help thinking about how soft she'd feel against him. Micheal was never the man for relationships but he could easily see himself being with Vivian.

"Okay let's do it." He finally agreed before crossing his legs once more.

"2008, Prizer's study of minority interest rates. Companies were found to be four times more likely to provide white couples lower rates than black couples despite identical qualifications." Vivian held out her thumb at the example.

"Tha-"

"The overbearing phenomena of black drivers being six times more likely to be pulled over and almost fifteen times more likely to be pulled from the car." She interrupted him with the figure as she placed up her pointer finger. Micheal grit his teeth at the interruption but listened nonetheless.

"We see shockingly high maternal mortality rates amongst black women in New Stone. We're six times more likely to die after childbirth despite no significant genetic differences. Roma Johnson found in 2010 that doctors were actually mislead to believe we had higher pain tolerances and were subsequently more likely to be drug seeking." Once more another finger went up and Micheal felt his leg begin to bounce in frustration. Vivian always had a talent for memorizing information unlike anyone he'd ever met.

"How about we actually talk politics, not conspiracy theories?" Micheal opened his mouth to elaborate but her sudden movement stopped any words from further leaving his mouth.

"This is fucking politics! When we make policies we affect every aspect of the human experience in a trickle down fashion. You cannot make a law about criminal behavior without it affecting the social structure of families, but if you want to talk numbers, let's talk numbers." Vivian waved her hand in his face, her expression harsh as she spoke quickly.

"How about your famed 12% theory, huh? You know those 12% account for over 30% of the labor force yet they're paid less than a third of what that should account for in income. The average income for a family in the bottom 12% was $15,000 last year. You know what our poverty wage is in North Stone? $20,000. You're penalizing and ostracizing people for the issue you created."

Her tone remained as sharp as her tongue, the information spilling from her mouth like everyday greetings. Micheal would be lying if he said he believed in the 12% model that came with being in the Patriotic Unity Party.

"The 12% model was proposed by the radical outliers amongst the party. I don't support that ideology." He made it known but her tired smile let him know she'd already accounted for the denial.

"Besides, what's a bit of competition? We're 12th in the state for education. We've got more drug addicts than we do working class. Someone needs to take charge." Micheal always found himself talking about the value of hard work. He, himself, had grown up in a fairly stable household and learned the discipline of hard work from a young age.

"Micheal, it's amazing you've managed to get a job with your cognitive dissonance. Why do you think we have more drug addicts than working class?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm as she leaned forwards to place her hands on her knees as if she were speaking down to a child.

The stance made Micheal feel more submissive that he'd felt in the last 15 years. His stomach turned, his head buzzed, and he found himself unable to keep his foot from tapping the tile. Unable to stand the feeling any longer, he shot up from his seat causing Vivian to recoil back from the sudden movement.

"Because people are junkies! You and I both grew up in this town and look at us. It's got nothing to do with our color, but our drive for success." Pointing between them, he kept his finger high on her chest as to not test the waters.

"You're fucking delusional," her hand came up quickly to slap his away, "and I hope you find the difference between anecdotal evidence and facts soon. You'll need it for your gubernatorial campaign."

Micheal moved on instinct as he grabbed her arm to keep her from returning back to her desk. His grasp on her was quickly severed as she elbowed him in the stomach and pulled herself away.

"Don't get too comfortable, Phoenix. I'll whoop your ass in this office."
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