The Jules Estate

The grand foyer of the Jules estate feels more like a museum than a home. Basie and I stand awkwardly amidst the polished marble and towering floral arrangements after my father and August Jules disappear into what I assume is the 'business room.' I try to subtly smooth down the fabric of my Stella McCartney dress, the soft material doing...

The grand foyer of the Jules estate feels more like a museum than a home. Basie and I stand awkwardly amidst the polished marble and towering floral arrangements after my father and August Jules disappear into what I assume is the 'business room.' I try to subtly smooth down the fabric of my Stella McCartney dress, the soft material doing little to soothe my nerves. I'm used to luxury, but this… this is another level. A whirlwind of blonde hair and glittering jewelry descends the massive staircase. "Macy! So glad you could make it!" The girl practically bounces as she reaches the bottom step, her smile wide and genuinely welcoming. This must be Alexis Jules. "It's a pleasure to be here, Alexis," I reply, managing a haughty smile, the one I usually reserve for the less fortunate souls who dare to cross my path. "Your home is… impressive." "Oh, this old place?" Alexis giggles, waving a dismissive hand that nearly blinds me with the sparkle of her diamond bracelets. "Dad's always adding something new. Anyway, enough about the house! I have the best day planned for us." And with that, she grabs my arm, pulling me towards a side hallway. "First things first: manicures! My girl, Camille, is the only one I trust with my nails, and she's here now. We can pick out colors, and then maybe a quick facial? You must be exhausted from traveling." Traveling? I live a mere thirty-minute drive away, but I bite back the sarcastic remark. Best to play along, at least for now. Camille, as it turns out, is a tiny woman with an enormous personality and an even more impressive collection of nail polishes. As Camille starts working on my nails, I observe Alexis chattering away about her upcoming charity gala, the latest drama with her horse, Princess, and the difficulties of choosing between a Birkin and a Kelly bag for a casual lunch. I try to keep up, to feign interest, but a strange feeling begins to stir within me. It's not jealousy, exactly, but something akin to… bewilderment. Alexis seems genuinely oblivious to the sheer absurdity of her life, to the chasm that separates her 'normal' from the reality of the vast majority of the world. She pauses mid-sentence, noticing my silence. "Macy, you okay? You seem a little… distant." I force another smile, hoping it looks more genuine this time. "I'm fine, Alexis. Just… admiring your… enthusiasm." "Great!" she beams. "Because after manicures, we are going shopping, then horseback riding, and afterwards, we are getting dinner at le petite and after that maybe a little trip to the bahamas, what do you say?"

I blink, trying to process the casualness with which Alexis throws out the idea of orbital scramjets and impromptu Bahamas trips. "Wait, you're serious? You have… a family scramjet?" I can't help the incredulous tone that slips into my voice. Camille, who had been meticulously applying a coat of shimmering rose gold to my nails, pauses, h...

I blink, trying to process the casualness with which Alexis throws out the idea of orbital scramjets and impromptu Bahamas trips. "Wait, you're serious? You have… a family scramjet?" I can't help the incredulous tone that slips into my voice. Camille, who had been meticulously applying a coat of shimmering rose gold to my nails, pauses, her eyebrows raised. Alexis giggles, as if I've just asked the silliest question in the world. "Of course! How else would we get to Gstaad for skiing on a whim? Or pop over to Tokyo for the cherry blossoms? The jet is practically part of the family. Though, Dad is talking about upgrading to a hypersonic one soon. Apparently, the scramjet is 'so last season'." The 'so last season' comment hangs in the air, thick with the weight of unimaginable wealth. I feel a strange mix of fascination and… is it envy? No, it can't be envy. I have plenty. More than plenty. But this… this is a different stratosphere altogether. "So," I say, trying to regain my composure, "this Bahamas trip… is it a regular thing for you?" Alexis shrugs again, the diamonds on her wrist catching the light. "Sometimes. If the mood strikes. The water's supposed to be particularly clear this week, and I need to work on my tan before the charity gala. It's, like, the event of the season, and I can't be caught looking pasty." She wrinkles her nose in distaste. "Besides, I just got a new bikini, and I'm dying to try it out." Camille clears her throat, effectively ending the conversation. "Alright, ladies, manicures are done! Ms. Jules, shall we move on to the facial?" As Camille leads Alexis towards a plush, velvet-draped massage table, I'm left to my own thoughts. The sheer scale of Alexis's life is starting to sink in, and it's… unsettling. My own wealth, which I've always considered substantial, suddenly feels… insignificant. A small, almost pathetic puddle compared to the ocean of opulence that surrounds Alexis. A sudden thought occurs to me. "Alexis," I say, "before we go to the Bahamas, would you mind if we stopped by my house? I want to show you something." I try to keep my voice casual, but I can't deny the undercurrent of challenge that creeps in. I need to prove that I'm not completely out of my depth, that I have something to offer besides a designer wardrobe and a snobby attitude. I need to show her that I'm not intimidated, even if I secretly am. "It's not much," I add, "but I think you might find it… amusing."

Alexis claps her hands together, her enthusiasm seemingly boundless. ´Perfect! Jameson, darling, could you have the… you know… the rolling mansion brought around? Thanks, love!´ She winks at the intercom before turning back to me, her face radiating excitement. ´It´s way more fun than a regular car. You´ll see!´ As we exit the Jules estat...

Alexis claps her hands together, her enthusiasm seemingly boundless. ´Perfect! Jameson, darling, could you have the… you know… the rolling mansion brought around? Thanks, love!´ She winks at the intercom before turning back to me, her face radiating excitement. ´It´s way more fun than a regular car. You´ll see!´ As we exit the Jules estate, I brace myself for a typical luxury car, perhaps a Rolls Royce or a Bentley. What awaits me instead is… baffling. Stretching down the driveway and snaking onto the street is a vehicle unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It resembles a train, but instead of railway cars, it’s composed of interconnected, opulent compartments on wheels. Each segment gleams with polished chrome and tinted windows, hinting at the lavish interiors within. My jaw drops. This is beyond extravagant; it’s bordering on cartoonish. I can't help but stare, a mixture of awe and disbelief warring within me. Beside me, Alexis giggles, clearly enjoying my reaction. ´Ta-da! What do you think? Dad had it custom-made a few years ago. He calls it the ´Land Yacht´, but I prefer ´rolling mansion´. It’s got everything: a cinema, a spa, a gourmet kitchen, even a small bowling alley!´ Bowling alley? In a car? I shake my head, trying to wrap my mind around the sheer absurdity of it all. ´It´s… certainly something, Alexis,´ I manage to say, my voice laced with a hint of sarcasm that seems to fly right over her head. ´Come on! Let’s hop in! I call shotgun!´ She grabs my hand and practically drags me towards the entrance of the first compartment, where a uniformed chauffeur stands waiting, his expression perfectly neutral despite the outlandishness of the vehicle. As we step inside, I’m immediately engulfed in a sensory overload of plush velvet seating, crystal chandeliers, and the faint aroma of expensive perfume. It’s like stepping into a five-star hotel room on wheels. ´Welcome aboard, ladies,´ the chauffeur says, his voice smooth and professional. ´Where to, Ms. Jules?´ ´To Macy’s place, please, Jameson,´ Alexis replies, settling into a plush armchair and grabbing a remote. ´And crank up the tunes! I feel like dancing!´ As the rolling mansion lurches forward, gliding smoothly down the road, I can’t help but feel a strange sense of displacement. I’m rich, yes, but this experience is making me question everything I know about wealth and privilege. What awaits me at my own home, I wonder? Will it even register on Alexis´s scale of opulence? Only time will tell.