February 7th 1984, New York

Amanda Adelaide Rollins

Let's just say that seeing a female name, engraved on her chest in golden calligraphic letters, was a complete shock.

She had just turned sixteen, she had a loving boyfriend who she was gonna marry one day (not really sure whether she herself wanted that or if she would do it just to piss off her mother) and this, that name, marking her for life, this bond, it couldn't be real. It shouldn't.

She had never, ever, showed any kind of interest in girls before. She knew that there were people like that, girls who loved girls and boys who loved boys. She had never, in her sixteen years of life, met one of them but she thought that, you know, it was okay. I mean, who was she to judge them, right?

But what am I gonna tell Burton? He said that he had this big surprise for when my birthday came. He was so sure that it was going to be him...

What was she supposed to tell him? She couldn't be... she couldn't be... gay, her mother was a very conservative, old-fashioned woman, she wouldn't take it well.

And Burton? She had given him her virginity, convinced that he was the man. In that very moment, while looking in the bathroom mirror at the name glowing just above her left breast, where her heart was beating very fast underneath her flesh, she made a decision:

No one could ever know.

So she grabbed her makeup from the cabinet and slowly started applying some on her skin, covering the name of that girl who was supposed to be someone to her that she shouldn't.

Satisfied with the work that she had done, even though half of her makeup was now gone, since covering that golden glow proved to be quite the hard task, she put the makeup kit back in the cabinet and made her way out of the bathroom and towards the living room, praying to all that is holy that her mother was still asleep.

But when had everything holy ever been in her favor? The answer was never.

"Morning." She mumbled when she saw her mother sitting on the couch, very much drunk from last night or just starting her day with wine instead of caffeine like normal people. She quickly made her way to the kitchen to make them both a cup and of coffee and some toast, all the while thinking that if she was lucky, and that was an extremely enormous 'if', her mother wouldn't remember what day it was, the importance of it and what questions to ask.

"Got anything to tell me?" Serena asked, disinterest lacing her voice as she walked, or more like stumbled, into the kitchen.

"Nope." She answered her dryly, keeping herself busy by filling a glass with water and drinking it slowly, desperately trying to look unavailable for any kind of conversation.

"I'm not surprised. No one sane enough would ever love you."

She pretended not to feel the burning in her eyes and the tears that formed in them. She pretended not to feel neither her heart clenching in her chest nor the sob that tried to rip through her throat. She held her head high, placed the glass gently back on the counter and looked at her mother, giving her a tight-lipped smile.

"Sure, mother."

No. No one can ever know.

~•~

April 13th 1996, Georgia

Olivia Margaret Benson

Oh hell no. This can't be happening. No, no, no, no!

Her secret would be out. She had a teeny tiny sliver of hope that maybe, you know, all the glances and the checking other girls out were just some sort of stupid teenage thing where she was just jealous of them, wanted to be more like them.

But no. Of course not. The Fates had to go and mess with her like that. What were they thinking, bringing to life a lesbian girl in the fucking south? The south, as in the most conservative, racist, homophobic place on earth. How in the Fates' name was she supposed to explain that to her mother, hell, herfather.

She tried to forget, just for a second, what the world would think and what her parents would say or do and just focus on the name written on her chest.

"Olivia Margaret Benson." She read out loud, touching the soft skin, running her fingers over the most precious thing she had in her life.

It felt nice, the name falling from her lips so easily. She thought it was actually quite a pretty name.

Margaret, kind of like the flower.

And then she let her thoughts go wild, thinking whether she would be as delicate and fragile as the flower itself. She could bet she was as pretty as the flower.

Just like that, the name transformed into a person in her mind. She wasn't too tall but taller than she was, long, wavy hair, a bronze color, she hoped, maybe nearing ginger, skin in the color of honey, and eyes maybe hazel or deep brown. Yes, definitely a chocolate brown.

Not that it would matter what she would look like. She would love her unconditionally. They had a special bond after all. A bond that she soon realized she would have to bury till she left this godforsaken town, damn, this godforsaken state.

But what if I never get to leave?

And just like that, all the images of happiness that had made their way into her mind disappeared and suddenly she hated that name on her chest because it represented everything, a life, that she could never have.

And so she buried it under multiple layers of makeup, so no one could see and therefore nobody could know.

She looked at herself in the mirror one more time and promised herself that she wouldn't dream, willed herself to forget all about that girl. For all she knew, and cared, it was all one silly, hopeful, schoolgirl fantasy.

"Amanda, breakfast." Her younger sister, Kim, yelled at her from the hallway, pulling her out of her thoughts.

She went to the kitchen and sat at the table waiting till breakfast was ready, in hopes that everyone would just ignore the day and what was supposed to happen.

"Happy birthday sis!" Kim exclaimed, wrapping her arms excitedly around her sister, enveloping her in a warm hug. "Anything big you wanna tell us 'bout?" She wiggled her eyebrows rather suggestively before taking a seat next to her.

"Um," she cleared her throat and put on a sad facade. "I am afraid that there's... there's no one out there for me, Kimmy."

"Oh." It was the only word that managed to make its way out of Kim's mouth.

She was thankful that after her statement everyone chose to let the subject go.

As far as the world was concerned Amanda Adelaide Rollins did not have a soulmate.

And neither did Olivia Margaret Benson.