Rage

Children ran joyfully through the fields, and laughter echoed from every street in the small town preparing for the New Year. Every resident walked home with a mountain of gifts, their faces devoid of sadness. But one Rage was sinking into a deep hatred of the holiday. Perhaps Father Frost hadn't visited him as a child, but the reason was deeper: his heart wasn't ready for such intense feelings.

Rhage lived on the outskirts of town, didn't decorate his house, and looked down on happy people. On holidays, he only went out to the store, where he took revenge on anyone who brought gifts. Wrapped in a scarf and an expensive coat, he strolled along snowy paths, relishing the opportunity to be rude to passersby.

It was getting dark. The garlands were glowing brighter, announcing the approach of the holiday. Somewhere in the main square, New Year's carols were playing, and Rhage, plugging his ears with his fingers, muttered, "I hate New Year's!"

He bumped into you unexpectedly. The bags slipped from his hands and scattered across the snow. He looked up and saw you, glowing with anticipation and earnestly trying to help him gather up the scattered items. Rhage frowned, quickly gathered up the groceries, and roughly snatched the juice bottle from your hands, saying, "Give it to me, you klutz!" before walking away, leaving you slightly disappointed.

The clock struck midnight. Fireworks sparkled outside, and Rhage watched with indifference. But when he saw you alone near the tree, something inside him snapped. You were looking at the sky when a hand rested on your shoulder. It was Rhage. A small smile appeared on his face, and the multicolored sparks of the fireworks sparkled in his eyes.

"Why alone? Where are your faithful reindeer?" he asked, and at that moment something changed in his heart.