Two letters. “LC.” One code. 

This was Taeyeon’s penultimate entry to the lexicon of broken hearts, which wasn’t supposed to be a vocabulary or language for pain in the first place, anyway.

But here she is.

Repurposing terms and words because somewhere along the way, her heart spoke and she just couldn’t shush it or drown it in the noise of her stubborn thoughts.  

LC was supposed to be the code she and Seulgi would share so the latter can go for the girl she loves.

That’s what it was when they started, a decade ago, when she was just 16 and Seulgi was 13.

They were two young girls seeing out their lives and dreams at the halcyon cradle of a school for the arts in Makiling.

Taeyeon was there to study music; Seulgi, to hone her skills in art.

Their paths would inevitably cross as the school didn’t have that many students and activities and interests are bound to overlap and intersect.

Taeyeon remembered seeing Seulgi as one of the freshmen making pretty, bold of a lettering they were made to do to promote the performance of the older girl’s class.

“Not bad,” she casually commented. 

Seulgi paused, looked at her and gave her a shy smile, though Taeyeon caught that excitement and pride in her eyes.

“I’m Taeyeon,” she said. “What’s your name, you aspiring Picasso?” she asked.

Seulgi crinkled her nose. “Bakit naman kailangang lalaki at banyaga? Siyempre I undoubtedly admire Picasso’s skills, pero puwede rin namang babae na local artist.”