You’ll accuse me of being jealous. Maybe there’s a hint of jealously but in general, my distain towards this arrogant gold digger is justified.
Our fathers are brothers; that’s how we’re cousins. We led very different childhoods. My dad was the black sheep of the family—the drunk, domestic abuser job hopper. My mother is semi-literate and worked part-time in a factory. For the most part, we relied on welfare. No birthday gifts, no vacations, nothing nice.
On the other hand, my cousin was born privileged. Her father was a dentist, her mother was a dermatologist. They were wealthy and had one of those mcmansions with a pool. Growing up, whenever my parents would go out partying, they’d send me over to my cousin’s house. I always felt so awkward and out of place—I could tell they were looking down on me, and always felt pathetic when my uncle’s wife (a nice lady) would offer me second-hand clothes, food and money. My cousin constantly made fun of me for not having toys, saying I was poor, ugly, gross. She wouldn’t let me hang out with her friends because I wasn’t good enough. Even back then, she was a spoilt, stuck-up brat.
Anyway, she got signed to a modelling agency and dropped out of school at 16 to pursue catalogue modelling. She did this until she was 23 (I don’t know how much money she was making—but she was always flaunting her designer clothes, luxury apartment and fancy cars—she certainly wasn’t a famous model who everyone knew, but she did appear in many catalogues.) At 23, she started working in a casino as a poker dealer. She immediately started dating the owner—an extremely handsome millionaire (he was about 10 years older than her and had inherited the casino from his father). Within two months, she was pregnant.
She quit the casino, got married and had the baby, and then decided she wanted to be an actress. She didn’t want to audition or take lessons, so her husband had to finance her entire career. This went on for years—plays, short films, independent movies, two albums. After 13 years of marriage, the husband left her for another woman. My cousin refused the divorce and avoided it for as long as possible—then the husband died in a transportation accident. Because they were still married at the time of his death, my cousin got EVERYTHING—350 million dollars.
More years have passed, and my cousin is now close to 50. Her daughter, who was raised mostly by nannies and boarding schools, is an Instagram model with an onlyfans account. My cousin is still acting in her self-produced projects. As an actress, she’s not awful but not terrible. She’s a bit of a local celebrity and hosts frequent galas and parties; she’s part of the socialite scene. She married a new guy eight years ago, a pretentious writer. The new husband now writes all the scripts for my cousin’s acting projects—I’m convinced she only married him for his stories—he’s not her type and is close-to-ugly.