My Parents Are Super Rich But I Starve

  • Published on:  9/27/2019
  • Hi. I'm Alex and literally every single one of my friends has told me that I should share this story that happened to me, like, with the world. I've been thinking about it for a while and here I am. Let's do this.

    My parents are very rich people. And I'm not telling this to you like I'm bragging, it's not a rich-kid-thing at all. It's more than that, I am not a rich kid at all. Yeah, you heard that right: with my parents being crazy rich, I am actually pretty poor. I live in a small guest house with minimal furniture beside my parents' mansion, I get a ridiculously small amount of allowance money, and I don't feel rich at all. Okay, I guess I've got stuff to explain here.

    My parents are self-made people. That's what they like to say and it's basically true. They both started from the bottom, their families were always struggling, and they met when they were very young — way before they earned their fortune. They started a business which, over several years, grew to be two different companies, both pretty big. They basically had two weddings: the first one, when they were young and poor, and the second one – at an ultra-luxurious resort in the Bahamas years later. I mean, I have only seen the video – I was ten and I was not invited.

    Here's where we get to the important part. I was never a part of the family... financially. My parents have always been sure that if I got exposed to money growing up, I would grow up spoiled, lazy, selfish, arrogant... like that idiot rich kid from any school movie. Apparently, each of them had a guy during their school years, who was a total moron, and who happened to come from a rich family. I don’t know the details, because they were never really willing to talk about it, but the idea that money spoils children has stayed with them for years.

    So okay, now that you know the background, let's get into the story. It started at one of my parents' famous parties. Every week there's either a party or a “reception,"" or whatever you call it, at their house. They love stuff like that, and they like saying that they earned these nights with their hard work. Needless to say, I'm almost never invited to these occasions, since, first, I have to go to sleep early to be disciplined, and, of course, because of the money thing. Sometimes I would just crash those parties and chat with people until my dad noticed or sabotage them by turning off all the lights or something. I had nothing to lose really. That day was one of those days.

    My parents are friends with a couple who have a daughter. Her name is Cecilia, she's sixteen, and I've seen her around a couple of times. I even talked to her once at my friend's birthday. She's really cute and funny, and she always comes over with her parents. Again, how messed up is that: kids my age and even younger come to my parents' parties all the time and I have to be in the guest house and go to sleep at 10.

    So this time I snuck in again. Cecilia was there and I started talking to her, everything was going fine… until my dad showed up. When he saw me, he went even crazier than usual. He shouted at me, saying that I was not supposed to be there, and that I was supposed to be in bed already. It was so embarrassing that it actually felt painful. Like I was a 2-year-old or something. Everyone heard it and Cecilia did too, of course. I couldn't even say anything. I just walked out of the room in total silence.

    That night something broke inside of me. Like, I probably should have come to this conclusion long ago, but I could not go on like this. Something had to be done. Pretty soon I realized that what I needed most of all was MONEY. It would have solved a lot of problems. I could do whatever I wanted. Well, not literally ""whatever I wanted,"" but you get the point.

    After looking for a part-time job for a while and not finding anything good, I decided I needed to start… some kind of business, like my parents did years ago. And what happened next was pretty unbelievable.

    I’ll try to make this short.

    My parents have a friend, let’s call him Mr. Jay, and he’s a businessman too. He has a company that has something to do with real estate, but as a hobby he runs a small vinyl record shop, like as a… side project. He told me that in the 70s he was in a rock band and thought that music was his life. But then the times changed and their band didn't take off, so he had to leave the idea of a music career behind. And the record shop was his connection to that world he had to leave.

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