1. The perfect stranger

They had never met before. Not a single time.

"His eyes are the perfect olive green. His eye lashes so beautifully long and dark compared to his dirty blonde hair."

He thought he might have heard his name before, his friends might have told one or two stories about Vicco, but as usual, he probably wasn't listening.
Carl had his eyes on Vicco the entire night, there was something different about him.

They had both been invited to a midsummer party at a friend's stuga close to Torekov, about 2 hours away by car from Malmö. It was not the perfect weather, "it has been a horrible summer and it'll only get worse" Carl thought. He loved warm weather and could not wait to escape to Crete for the rest of the summer. But after meeting Vicco that night, he didn't want to escape the grey clouds and the rain that that Swedish summer was going to bring. He wanted to sit there, on that unstable old chair for the rest of his days and stare at Vicco's green eyes, his broad shoulders, his perfect teeth, his strong looking hands and his jaw tightened every time Vicco took a sip of elderberry cider.

Carl had ended things with his Carro just a couple of months ago. He had felt that it didn't feel normal  to stroke her full breasts and hold her tiny womanly waist while they kissed passionately in his tiny bed. The bed issue was always a problem at home. His parents argued that he could get a new big bed when he moved out. But of course, he had to pay for it himself. "We already give you so much money Carl, what do you want a bigger bed for? The one you have is perfectly okay, stop complaining" they would say.

Anyways, he didn't quite see what all the other guys jealously thought of Carro: the perfectly skinny legs (?), the gorgeous long hair (?), the big breast (?) and her, in his opinion, "annoying feminine voice" (!!). He knew he didn't dare to go much further with her and lied saying he was staying a virgin till he married. She agreed with him, but secretly never quite believed him. After all "what nineteen year old says that nowadays?" she used to think.

Victor felt his eyes on him all the way through the dinner. It was "rather cold for a summers night, nineteen or eighteen degrees at least" Vicco thought to himself. But he didn't feel the cold creep through his slightly tan half-bare legs. He didn't feel it creep inside of him through his short sleeves and freeze his bones till they hurt. This time he felt warm all along, his heart beating steadily  somehow excited to feel the strangers gaze on him. He didn't dare to look back just get, he had no clue of what he was doing, but he knew he had to wait. 

The wine kept flowing in, cheap wine, expensive wine, wine that tasted like fruit, wine that didn't quite taste of anything at all, white wine, rosé and red wine. The empty cider and beer cans started filling the table up. The cigarette smoke filled the big white tält and suddenly big bottles of strong liquor started to appeared on the table too. Cheap vodka from Denmark for the girls who wanted to get drunk, Jägermeister for the one's who thought they knew what they were drinking, fancy bottles of whiskey "borrowed" from the parent's cabinets, Absolut bottles of all colors and flavors for everyone to try and one or two disgusting unknown bottles that no one quite dared to touch. It was around eight in the evening, dessert (an amazing cheesecake) had just finished and the white table was beginning to get stained by all sorts of things. The typical small wooden Swedish flags put on the table kept falling over and every once in a while someone would put them back where they were meant to be. Songs were starting to be sung when taking shots as the music got louder and louder. Some men had taken off their black and blue blazers and sat on the old and relatively comfortable chairs looking naked in their white shirts, bow ties and colorful suspenders. 

When his Casio read twenty-one double zero, Victor decided to meet Carl's eyes.