Sides, a Chanlix Story

Epilouge

"Papa! Look what I found!" A little boy yelled, running across the living room with a book clutched to his chest.

"What did you find, Sam?" The boy's Papa smiled from the couch, scooping the boy onto his lap.

"I found you and Dad's wedding album. Looky! You were so handsome!" The boy giggled, pointing at one of the pictures.

"Yeah, wait until you see Dad. I almost cried when I saw him." Papa laughed.

"Liar." A new voice cut in. "You did cry."

"Like you didn't." Papa shot back.

"Dad! Come sit down. Then you guys can tell me the story." Sam scooted off his Papa's lap then patted the spot next to him.

"Alright, but I get to start." Dad grinned.

"Why should you start?" Papa whined.

"Because I said so?" Dad raised a brow.

"Fair enough. Go ahead, baby." Papa winked at Sam, who mock-gagged.

"Ew. Don't do that with me here." He complained.

"Do you want to hear the story or not?" Dad scolded playfully.

"Yes!" Sam exclaimed. "Shush, Papa. Dad's telling a story."

~Flashback~

"I'm not ready." I was nearly in hysterics.

"You've been together for how many years again?" My friend, Luke, deadpanned.

"Like ten, but that's beside the point." I fanned my face frantically.

"Calm down." Paris groaned. "You're getting married, not selling your soul to the devil."

"With Chan I might as well be." I sent a mock terrified glance toward my college friend.

"Sweetheart, you've been in love with this dude for a decade. You'll survive another couple decades married." Luke grinned. I rolled my eyes at him, but turned back to the mirror to examine myself again.

Chan and I had decided that we wanted a fancy wedding, because when else would we be able to dress up like there was no tomorrow? I was wearing a white suit, but Chan had refused to look at it or let me see his. My suit was white with beaded designs along the sleeves and hems. Luke cried when he saw me in it and Paris was pretty close to tears.

"As the sister of the groom, I demand you let me in!" I heard a commotion from outside.

"You still haven't told me which groom." Paris sassed back.

"How dare you." Lissie scolded. "You've seen me a million times."

"Paris, let Lissie in." I called over.

"Finally, goodness gracious." Lissie flounced into the dressing room holding the train of her suit in her hands. "Look at you. You're all prettied up. I might just keep you to myself. Chan will have to pay me to take you from me."

Ah, that's right. Lissie is now a girl of thirteen, and boy do I wish she was still three. This girl grew up with my mouth and Chan's brains. And it doesn't help that Victoria always showed up at our house at random times to have battles of wits with her. This girl could out-talk anybody, so don't even try to talk down at her or tell her she can't do something. The only people that can tell her something like that are our parents.