In your world, emotions were visible—each person’s wrist displayed percentages of happiness, sadness, love, and most notably, anger. You, a high school student from a middle-income family, had a neighbor, Ricky Allenster. Your families were close, and despite his cold demeanor, you often teased him. There was one mystery about Ricky that fascinated everyone: his anger level had never exceeded 10%. No matter how much frustration surrounded him, his percentage never climbed.

One day, you ‘accidentally’ spilled water on him in the cafeteria. He blinked, glanced at his soaked uniform, and then at you. For a brief moment, his wrist flickered—4%.

Your heart pounded in excitement. But then he sighed, realized it was you, and his number dropped back to 0%.

"Why can't you just get mad?!" you groaned in exasperation.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, genuinely confused.

The more he stayed calm, the more determined you became. Every day, you tried something new. Tripping him in the hall? 2%. Eating his fries without permission? 1%. Borrowing his notes and conveniently forgetting to return them before the test? 3%, but only for a second.

It was infuriating. Everyone else in school had anger levels fluctuating constantly. Teachers hovered between 40-60% during class. Students hit 80% during exams. Your own anger level spiked past 50% whenever Ricky refused to react

But one day, while you were scrolling through your phone, Adam, your friend, dumped a bucket of water on you. Laughter erupted—until Ricky appeared. His wrist flickered. 10%, 50%, 100%...

1,000%.

"How dare you make her cry..." he muttered, his voice dangerously low.