Chapter 15
When they were little girls, Lola and Felicia Sun were two peas in an unpeelable pod. With just a couple years between them
and initially raised in China away from the rest of their LA-based Sun cousins, the daughters of George Sun and Tingting Fang
only had each other. As the sole patrilineal descendants of Big Boss Sun, they were kept in rarified captivity, privately
tutored without other children and never allowed outside of their colonial-era villa in the Former French Concession of Shanghai.
As lonesome as this golden cage might sound, the little girls shared a joyous childhood. And that’s because they had each
other.
Even before Lola could speak, Felicia taught her little sister how to play pretend. Yes, they’d been showered with every fashionable
toy and gadget that money could buy, but those lay in an untouched heap in the corner of their nursery. Lola and Felicia were
not restricted by the material things of their sheltered privilege—instead, their playgrounds were as expansive and wondrous
as their youthful minds.
With just a few words, Felicia could transport them to the high seas where they were swashbuckling pirates, battling deformed mermaids who had stolen their booty.
Or they were shape-shifting aliens on another planet, rebelling against their evil overlord.
If the weather in their backyard was nice, they might be wild lionesses on the golden plains of Africa, hunting gazelles under the blazing sun.
(Though Lola did most of the hunting, as Felicia usually opted to be a lazy lion.) It was the favorite part of Lola’s day, when they had finished their afternoon studies and she could finally turn to her big sister and ask, “Do you wanna play pretend?”
But even the most spirited of imaginations could not outrun the harsh reality of what it meant to the paternal granddaughters
of Big Boss Sun. And as they grew older, the sisters also grew apart.
Growing up was inevitable, but growing apart? For Lola, losing her childhood best friend was something that no amount of pretending
could ever heal.
Outside the Tom Bradley International Terminal at LAX Airport, Lola stared at Felicia, wondering what she should say. “Goodbye”
didn’t seem fitting—it implied that there was something left between them to bid farewell.
“Thanks for seeing me off,” Felicia finally said, fidgeting with her long black hair, hair so straight and impeccable that
it always looked unnatural to Lola.
That’s a good way to put it, Lola thought. She shrugged noncommittally. “Pretty sure you saved all our lives when you showed
up in the desert. If I was a bit cold at first . . . I honestly just didn’t believe it was you. I thought I was hallucinating.”
Felicia nodded, looking down. “It’s definitely my failure as your big sister that you would sooner believe a hallucination
than me showing up for you. I’m sorry, Lola.”
Two nights prior, Lola had indeed thought Felicia’s miraculous appearance had been some midnight desert mirage.
As Felicia had later explained it, she’d arrived late for the cousins’ gathering.
Upon discovering the empty RV with only a lost puppy wandering nearby, she had scaled a nearby hill to investigate the situation, and from that vantage point heard the distant but unmistakable voices of April, Sunbern, Wayward, and Lola.
As Felicia led their tripping cousins back to the RV, Lola had observed her curiously. As usual, her older sister was the
odd man out—never on the same wavelength as the rest of their generation. Wayward and April had barely acknowledged her, instead
only whispering to each other at the back. Sunbern had just prattled on and on to her about his reconciliation with Shannon
Shoo, without a single question about Felicia.
But none of this seemed to bother Felicia. She was stoic as ever, so much so that Lola wondered why she even came in the first
place.
Lola had gotten her answer once they were all back in the safety of the RV, drinking the alcohol left in the fridge. At the
dining nook, Felicia had stood in front of them until they realized she was staring them down with an uncharacteristic determination
in her eyes.
“I came here tonight,” Felicia had said, her voice just barely quavering, “to let you know that I’m leaving this family.”
The cousins met her announcement with bewildered faces. “Wait, what?” Sunbern blurted out, but he had forgotten to swallow
his pinot grigio, and it sprayed everywhere.
“Felicia, what does it mean to ‘leave’ this family?” April asked a bit flippantly. “We’re all grown already, and to be honest,
it’s not like you ever show up anyway.”
“Yeah, what’s the point of this, Felicia?” Wayward asked, holding his sleeping puppy. He was more measured in his tone, though
his ever-sharp eyes were probing her. “Why tell us now?”
“I’m moving abroad,” Felicia had replied. “It’s easy for you all to forget that my mother’s family is in many ways an equal
to the Suns. I’m going back to Asia to lead them in taking care of some unfinished business.”
“Ma’am, you can’t park your motorcycle here,” an airport attendant interrupted them.
“Tom Bradley held my sister when she was born,” Lola growled at him. “She and I can idle for a few minutes in front of his
terminal to say goodbye.”
“You better go,” Felicia said. “I appreciate you coming. It’s more than I deserve.”
Lola hesitated. “I could be easier on you. Even if none of our cousins care enough to realize it, I know what it was like
for you growing up.”
It was an unspoken and unpreventable flaw that had marked Felicia since birth. She was the elder child of George Sun, but
she was not the lineal grandson that had been so crucial to Big Boss Son and his dreams of succession. For most of the Sun
cousins, Big Boss Sun was already senile as they entered adolescence, but Lola knew that Felicia was old enough to have gotten
the brunt of their grandfather’s frustrations at her unforgivable shortcoming.
Worse yet, Lola and Felicia knew too well that this shortcoming was what led to the breakdown of their parents’ marriage.
It was around the time their father, George, had been fired from Sunfang Global that young Felicia became withdrawn and depressed.
As Felicia entered adolescence, she stopped spinning grand adventures for Lola. Instead, Felicia shut out the world . . .
and even shut out Lola.
Lola was just a kid when everyone in her immediate family—her father, mother, and only sibling—stopped talking to each other.
Every member of the Sun Clan was a casualty of it in their own unique way, but for Felicia and Lola it was particularly devastating.
They lost each other as sisters.
“I don’t need to explain to you why I’m leaving,” Felicia replied. “But tell me, why do you stay, Lola? You’re just as powerless
as I am when it comes to the Suns.”
Lola shook her head. “That’s the difference between you and me, Felicia. I refuse to let anyone else dictate my power.”
Felicia nodded, biting a red lip, looking unsure of what else she could say to Lola. “Well . . . goodbye,” Felicia said, turning to walk into the airport.
“Hey, Felicia,” Lola said.
Felicia turned back around, tucking her long black hair behind her ear. “Yeah?”
Lola smiled her megawatt smile. “Do you wanna play pretend?”
Felicia cocked her head, at first confused. Then she remembered, and she beamed back at her little sister. “Always, Lola.”
Lola mounted her motorcycle, pulling her helmet over her head to mask the sadness in her eyes. “Pretend you’ll come back.”
Felicia wiped away a tear as Lola sped away down 1 World Way. “I’ll come back.”
And with that, Felicia Sun left, never to return home again.
“What is Love but the virgin bride of Courage?” SANTI asked grandly, his green eye and brown eye blinking rapidly in rapture,
“Waiting, Eve, to be consummated upon the hotbed of your intentions!”
Deep under Venice Beach in the clutches of MiNT Wellness, Shannon Shoo shifted uncomfortably on SANTI’s squishy leather couch,
her eyes rolling emphatically under her closed eyelids. Hyacinth’s guru was no doubt essential to her, and she had been overjoyed
when Sunbern’s mother had arranged for her to meet him so immediately, just a day after Lunar New Year. But considering all
his cult leader notoriety, SANTI seemed to Shannon as ordinary (and smelly) as any of the beach bums on the Boardwalk outside,
not to mention also unbearably corny.
“Oh, how interesting!” Shannon murmured, a pained smile across her face. “I’m all ears, SANTI!” Her exposed vulva was particularly
cold in this dank office, as this pervy outfit that she had been forced to wear by SANTI had a convenient opening right over
it.
“What I must tell you is not for your ears, Eve,” SANTI replied to her in his deepest movie trailer voice. “Are you ready for . . . the Whispering?”
“Um . . .” Shannon was unsure what exactly she was consenting to. “I guess so?”
SANTI got on his knees and leaned over the gold ring on her dress. But the moment the guru brought his lips close to Shannon’s
exposed pudenda, no sooner did he utter a few hissing whispers into Shannon than her eyes snapped open to witness this scummy
man’s descent upon her nether regions.
The girl from South El Monte was having none of it. She let out a shriek of disgust, and fast as lightning, her foot was planted
into SANTI’s face, her big toe’s freshly manicured nail jammed into his right eyeball.
“Get the FUCK off me, you grody-ass freak!” she screamed. She leaped up off the couch, bunching the long robe against herself
to shield herself from him.
SANTI was already reeling back, screaming in pain and stomping about so vociferously that the many vanity portraits on the
wall opposite them rattled.
“You fucking cunt! You almost gouged out my eye!”
“Damn almost!?” Shannon snarled. “Come back here and I’ll gladly finish the job! Maybe if you’re blind you won’t be able to
assault any more women!”