James stepped inside, carrying Michael's tea.
He clearly had no intention of approaching Michael directly, so he circled to the opposite side of the desk and placed the cup down cautiously.
Michael immediately brightened.
"Well then," he said, leaning forward with obvious amusement, "why don't we ask our whiskered beauty over here?" He turned towards James. "Tell me, James. If those filters disappear and HR actually has to consider everybody equally, do you genuinely think that'll help?"
James practically froze after hearing that.
He glanced at me uncertainly, then at Michael, then immediately back at me again.
"I..." His whiskers twitched nervously. "Um..." He shifted awkwardly where he stood. His eyes darted towards Michael again before returning cautiously to me.
"Don't worry," I said calmly. "Just say what you think."
"Well..." He swallowed. "Removing the filters is amazing. Really. That's a great idea." He nodded quickly, becoming slightly more confident as he continued. "And considering hybrid candidates the same way you'd consider everybody else is also really great, but..." he stopped.
"But?" Michael prompted.
James visibly grew even more anxious.
"You do understand there are very few hybrids with proper education, right?" he said carefully. "I don't know the exact statistics, but from what I've seen, maybe fifteen percent at most."
Neither of us interrupted him.
"Getting into college is practically impossible for many of us. Not to mention impressive résumés..." He gave a small sad smile. "Hybrids don't have them."
His fingers tightened around each other.
"So yeah, equal evaluation sounds great. That's the direction people would want things to move towards..." Suddenly, his expression changed again, becoming unexpectedly firm. "However, hybrids still won't be equal to beastfolk or humans."
The words landed heavily in the room.
"You saw my résumé," he continued. "And honestly? I think mine's pretty good for a hybrid."
Michael's amusement vanished completely.
"But it still wouldn't pass any proper filters. Even if everybody ignored the fact that I'm a hybrid."
I sat there, slowly realising the full complexity of the situation he had just described.
"So what are we supposed to do about that?" I muttered quietly.
"My God, what are these miserable little pessimistic thoughts, Mister Moncler?" Michael said, folding his arms across his chest. "Have you no shame? I arrived here expecting determination, revolution, scandal perhaps, and instead I find you muttering tragic questions under your breath. The drama of it all."
I exhaled quietly.
Michael smirked.
"Your whiskered colleague is entirely correct," he continued. "Not a single doubt in my mind. Everything he said was true." He tilted his head slightly. "Nevertheless, I think it's worth trying."
He shrugged lazily.
"Besides, this is not entirely about hiring people, is it? It's about your position. Whether you actually intend to make it public." His grin widened slightly. "And who knows? Perhaps somewhere along the way one of us will stumble into another brilliant idea."
I looked at him silently.
I knew perfectly well Michael was not here because he passionately cared about hybrid rights or equality or any other noble cause.
No.
The bastard was here because he adored the chaos.
He enjoyed the tension, the emotions, the sheer disorder currently unfolding around me. He practically fed on it. However, there was some truth in what he said.
I sighed.
"Fine," I admitted at last. "You're right."
Then I shifted my attention towards James, who still lingered nervously as far away from Michael as physically possible.
"James, please prepare a draft for an article."
"An article, sir?"
"Yes." I leaned back in my chair. "State that our company is abandoning outdated policies and looking towards a different future. From now on, we will consider candidates regardless of race or any other differences." I paused briefly. "If somebody is qualified for the position, we will hire them."
James stared at me.
"Let's begin there." I nodded. "Make it sound bold."
"I..." He suddenly looked strangely energised, and so excited that he forgot all about his usual nervousness. "Yes. Alright. I'll try." He adjusted his grip on the folder against his chest. "I'll send you the text. I'll start working on it right now."
Then he hurried out of the office so quickly he nearly escaped before fully turning towards the door.
The moment it shut behind him, I looked back at Michael.
"Now you," I said. "You are going to help me with something else.
Michael raised an eyebrow.
"You still have contacts in the major news outlets, don't you? Friends, ex-lovers, whichever category they currently belong to." I held his gaze. "Make sure that article gets published tomorrow morning. I want this news everywhere by the time I arrive at work."
Michael watched me carefully. A slow smile spread across his face.
"You do realise what this means, don't you?" he asked. "This is a declaration of war, Edward. Your father will never let this go."
"He lets very little go." I looked towards the panoramic windows. "If I keep worrying about that, then nothing will ever change." My voice lowered slightly. "Enough already. It's time to do something that actually matters."
Michael's smile sharpened.
"Well then," he said, "war it is."