flushing. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way…”
Anna interrupted him, feeling bad about making him sweat. “It’s okay. I’m kind of defensive about it. People at school—at college, even—gave me so much flack for being poor. It’s almost as if they saw it as a character flaw, or failure, when really, it’s just bad luck. Like, my parents were smart. They just didn't have many opportunities. I think success is just…hard work plus a lot of good luck.”
Jason nodded. “Or maybe pure luck, in my case,” he said, smiling awkwardly. “Hearing about your struggles just reminds me of how ridiculous rich people can be. We have fewer problems, and yet most of us are still unhappy, because we become slaves to our lifestyles…”
“Slaves to your lifestyles?” Anna said. “They don’t sound like the words of someone who’s been successful thanks to pure good luck. Sure, you inherited wealth, but that’s not the same thing. I mean, keeping a real estate company profitable throughout and after a financial crisis is no mean feat.”
Jason smiled. “Thanks for your encouragement, Anna, but what I do is a drop in the ocean—I owe so much to my employees.”
“Yeah, you do,” she teased, smiling back. Anna reached for the bottle and poured herself another glass of whiskey. “Now you’ve asked me, it’s only fair that I ask you… What was it like growing up rich?” she took a sip—the liquid burned less this time. “I have to admit, when I’m in the company of millionaire clients—even now, right here in this cabin—I feel like I’m in an alien world. The blue-collar girl inside of me can never seem to get over that culture shock.” She ran her fingers over the ornate Persian rug they were seated on.
“You know…” Jason started. “I’ve never really thought about what it meant to grow up rich. It just seemed like the default. I found it hard to relate to stories of people being impoverished, or living with less.”
“That’s as much as I expected,” Anna smirked.
“Ah…the classic hating on rich people,” Jason shot back teasingly. “I did grow out of that mindset eventually, thank you very much,” he laughed. “There are two sides to it, though. Sometimes growing up rich can be really fun. The extracurriculars in school include helicopter flying and scuba diving, and every summer break you get to go somewhere cool,” Jason said, reminiscing with a faint smile. “But there’s also an unbelievable amount of pressure. There’s an expectation that you’ll become as successful as your parents; perfect grades, perfect co-curriculars, perfect college application, and a perfect job at the end of it. Everyone’s constantly trying to one-up each other,” Jason said. “It can be a toxic environment. You would not believe the amount of drug and alcohol abuse in prep schools—I’m sure it’s directly related to all the stress.”
“Slaves to your lifestyle,” Anna echoed. She was intrigued by the parallels and discrepancies between her school life and that of a rich kid. Social mobility versus maintaining the status quo, she mused.
“When my parents died,” Jason said, clearing his throat, “I suddenly became aware of the pressure-cooker environment—just because I didn’t really have anyone who expected things of me anymore.”
Anna nodded. “Do you think most well-off kids have a similar experience to the one you had with your parents?” she asked, thinking to herself just how difficult it would have been for Jason, growing up with such distant and unsupportive parents.
“As in…not particularly close?” Jason thought about it. “I’m not sure. With my friends, I guess most of their parents were pretty busy, too. But maybe they didn’t take it quite as far as my parents did, missing holidays and such…” he trailed off.
Anna remembered the part in Jason’s story about being in the custody of a boarding