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Tino was curled up at a bar, shooting a vodka like it was water. Mathias had dragged him out to a traffic light party. Mathias sat at his side, dressed in a red button up. Tino was forced into an over-sized green jumper.
“Green is to let people know you’re single and looking. Orange is for people who are a bit cynical. Red is for us taken folks, such as myself.” Mathias had explained in the car, one hand flirting with the driving wheel whilst his other hand tried to pull Tino into his green jumper.
“Is this specifically a gay traffic light party?” Tino asked in-between mouthfuls of green cotton.
“Oh… Fuck!”
Tino scowled at Mathias over his vodka bottle. At this point he had to come out to five girls. Absolute strangers. Mathias laughed and waved at the bartender.
“You don’t happen to have a “I’m gay” button for my buddy, right?”The bartender leaned in and smiled.
“Those three guys over there asked the same.” He pointed to a trio of blond men, all dawdling and awkwardly tapping their feet to the music. Mathias grinned and shook Tino’s arm.
“Go on, Finny, go! Go meet the gays!”
“Mathias, what would I even say?”
“Go tell them your stupid trivia about cats.”
Guy number 1 was tall, with slicked blond hair and a beer jug in his hand. When Tino approached him, his whole face went pink.
“Did you know cats struggle to remember bad things? That’s why they’re difficult to train.”
The guy fidgeted on the spot. Suddenly hot blond number 2 stepped in.
“Sorry kid. He’s stupid. But,” The man said, smiling mischievously, “you’re my friend’s perfect type. Right, Berwald?” The spikey haired man grabbed his friend by the arm and pulled him forward.
“Oh.” – That was all Tino could find himself to say, becoming flustered. Berwald looked up from his feet, his face almost as pink as guy number 1, and pushed his glasses up. Tino could physically see Berwald summon all his courage, puffed his chest out, and said:“Does that mean cats are good at remembering happy things?”
Tino grinned. Finally, someone who got it.
“Yeah! Isn’t that really cute?”
Berwald smiled back.“Do you want to sit down? I could show you a photo of my cat.”
They sat down in a red, fake leather booth and shown off their pets. Berwald had a lovely, grumpy-looking cat and a very fluffy dog.
“She’s so tiny! And he’s so grumpy!” Tino laughed, “I love them!”
Berwald chuckled and moved an imaginary hair to behind his pink ears.“They’re my babies. I spoil them so much. Do you have pets?”
“I have a cat. He’s sleepy and fat. He doesn’t do much, but his tummy is so warm!”
The two laughed and talked about the joys of pets. Tino couldn’t help but notice Berwald was quite handsome, in the scary guy kind of way. He could imagine Berwald in the Wild West, shooting some outlaw and grabbing the distressed cutie. Tino turned around and wiggled his eyebrows at Mathias, who hadn’t moved from his seat by the bar. Mathias and Lars, previously labelled guy number 2, wiggled their eyebrows back.
“What do you think your happiest memory is?” Berwald asked, pushing up his glasses. Tino was weak for men with glasses.
“I don’t know really. I mean, I have a lovely life, but my memory is so bad!” Tino laughed, blushing at how weak his reply was, “How about you?”
“I was stuck in the hospital when I was teen. Sad stuff. But I remember when they let me out after, I think, two months? Three? And I remember crying because I was so happy to go outside and play Pokémon again.”
Tino’s mouth hung ajar for a bit, until he suddenly realised he had to reply.
“Right, because hospitals are so boring! You can’t use your phone and you can’t charge too many things and the food is so bad!” Tino rambled desperately. Berwald nodded.
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After that night, Tino started a scrapbook. It occurred to him that his memory was worse than he thought. Practical stuff was fine, though. He could tell you his address, where the café was, his work hours. But he couldn’t remember when he had his tonsils out, or even how he knew Mathias. Of course, the ticket to the traffic light party and Berwald’s little torn up paper with his phone number graced the first page.
“What if I break up with Berwald? Won’t these memories be sad?” Tino asked Mathias as he was gluing down the ticket.
“You’re obviously not a cat! Talk about pessimistic!” Mathias commented before bursting out into giggles. Tino huffed and went back to his scrapbook.
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Tino’s scrapbook turned into many. Photos of cats, Berwald and friends were accompanied with paragraphs of swirly writing in glittery gel pen. Receipts from café dates, postcards from holidays, those pictures you get from rollercoaster rides, everything. Mood boards for weddings, recipes for dinner dates, tickets from the cinema. Everything with dated with gel pen. Friends bought him stationary to use for his scrapbook. Berwald liked to add silly things, such as pets’ paw prints and cute flowers he found on their outings.
Soon life passed by, like a dream. Tino awoke to find himself in an old people’s home, his dear Swedish husband bald and wrinkly. He strangely suited it. The little guy smiled and flipped through his scrapbooks. His memory was the same all these years, but I would be lying if I told you his pessimism hadn’t gotten worse. He was scared. The less said about that, the better. He shook his head and stroked the pages he had adorned with so much work.
“Hey, wife. Did you ever pick?”
“Pick what?”
“Your happiest memory ever. Mine has changed to our wedding.” Berwald stated, crossing his arms and wriggling in his seat to get more comfortable.
“Oh! Mine is when we first met. When you replied to trivia about cats, I knew you were the one.” Tino smiled at him. Berwald smiled back and closed his eyes for a snooze. Tino tried to coerce the home’s cat into sitting on his lap. From somewhere he heard Mathias say:
“Boy, that’s gay.