Train // DenNor

Frognerparken

I meet up at Frognerparken. The clock's 12:40. 20 minutes to when we were supposed to meet. Good to be ready, right.

I look around a bit at all the people here. A nice summer day just invites all these people. Two young boys run around with a ball. Blond hair, blue t-shirts projected by the sun's harsh beams. They smile and laugh. It reminds me of Emil. We used to play ball together when he was smaller. Now he doesn't seem to want that anymore. I miss those days a bit. I was younger, full of dreams and will to do something with the world.
And not chasing around a stupid Dane.

"Hej!", a all too familiar voice by now calls. I turn around. He's walking around with a light vest. I look down. I don't have anything special in particular, but this isn't a date, so why should I, honestly.
"Hei," I call to him. He comes closer. He reaches into his pockets, only to take a small package of some licorice looking things. He notices me looking,
"Gajol. Want one?", he asks. He eats one.
I shake on my head as a response, and he puts it down in his pocket again.

"Shall we walk a bit?", he asks me. Walk around. That's easy. Then I don't have to talk a lot.
"Sure," I answer and begin leading the way. He follows me. Like a loyal dog follows it's owner. I didn't buy this dog. It just showed up, and decided I had adopted it.

"So, what football team do you like?", he asks me.
I was wrong. Even when walking he wanted me to talk.
Football team! I haven't kept up with the football teams in a long time. There are other sports that interest me more than football.
I remember what people usually talk about.
"Vålerenga," I respond. I try to make it sound like it's a thing I say all the time.
He thinks for a bit. Was it the wrong answer? Is there really nothing called Vålerenga?
"Ah, okay! I don't know those," he says and laughs. That annoying loud laugh, but it's somehow also calming. It really suits him. Or something.
"What team do you like?", I ask him. Better to ask him to move the spotlight from me.
"FC Midtjylland, but people say I'm a traitor with not loving FC København, but they've got nothing!", he answers as loud as he possibly can. I think I hit it. His favorite topic. I'll note that down, if I'm ever in an embarrasing moment.

We walk around a bit and find a bench to sit down a bit. He finds yet another Gajol in his pocket. He loves them, doesn't he.
"My little brother would probably love those," I say completely cold. Not my intention, but he doesn't seem to mind it.
He instead asks, "Oh, why?"
"He likes licorice," I answer.
"Oh! I think your little brother and I could be cool friends! His name was Emil, right?", he says and smiles all over the place.
"Yeah," I say and look at the ground. No way you and Emil will get along. I won't ever bring you to him.

We look at a water fountain. The water calms me somehow. It's always been that way.
"Hey, I should probably get home. Talk to you later, right?", he says and waves with his phone in his hand. He hugs me, and begins to go home.
I go the other way. I didn't hug him back. Who does he think he is?