Page 6 of Billionaire Grump
He decided on Columbia because he can live at home. I told him I don’t care how much room and board costs and that I’ll figure out a way for him to have the full college experience if he wants it.
Josh said there’s no way in hell he’ll let me pay for his entire degree. Tuition is one thing but room and board is an extra cost that Josh said we don’t actually need to spend. We argued about it.
The thing is, I have enough money. At least enough to get started. I can take out a loan if I need to, to get him through all four years. The price tag for Columbia is insane, of course, but it’s worth it.
And since I’m not going to college, at least not for now, I can focus on what’s best for Josh.
I thought about college. My grades were good enough and I was interested in studying music or graphic design. But it felt frivolous to spend that kind of money on something I wasn’t sure I needed. I felt like I was getting my life experience through different channels, and that those channels were working for me enough to justify sticking with them.
I make money through downloads of my music and from the small-venue shows I do around New York, which almost always sell out. But most of my money comes from advertising products through my social media platforms.
I’m a musician and an “influencer” and I have a huge following. As much as I hate that term, I have to admit it’s a pretty sweet gig. I post around ten times a day, basically just showing how I live my life and play my music.
Because I have a combined total of almost ten million followers through TikTok, Instagram and Spotify, companies send me their products and pay me to promote them. This is usually as easy as staging a few photos and recording a few videos.
It’s taken me a lot of time and effort to get my platform to the level it’s now at, but it still sometimes feels like a weird way to make money.
I don’t love selling myself 24/7, but I also don’t mind it. I’m good at it. I mostly enjoy creating the content. And I have a very good reason for doing it: my brother. I need to earn money, so I can help him realize his full potential.
Just because I’ve been Josh’s legal guardian for the past four years doesn’t mean we don’t act like siblings most of the time. He’s still a pain in the ass who leaves his shit everywhere and argues with me like a typical teenager.
Josh doesn’t take for granted the sudden change in our fortunes. When my first song blew up online and our lifestyle began to turn around, he appreciated it—more than a lot of kids would have. Because we knew what it was like to struggle.
Two years ago I bought us a two-bedroom loft in Soho. It’s small but was still a ridiculously huge improvement from the Bushwick basement we lived in until we could afford to move.
“Josh?” I step into the sun-drenched hallway. His sneakers are inside the front door, so I know he’s home.
“Hey,” he calls out from his room before sticking his head round the door. He leans a shoulder against the doorjamb. “How was yoga? Did you take an extra class?”
“Oh. No, I had some stuff to do for work. How was your shift?”
“Busy.”
“I need your mad photography skills when you have a minute.”
Josh is used to being my photographer. He used to complain about it, but when I told him how much I can make from a single post, he stopped complaining. I pay for our lifestyle (and college) and he helps me with my content. He knows he’s getting a pretty sweet deal.
He walks over to the fridge where I know he’ll drink the orange juice from the carton just to piss me off. I’ve tried my hardest to train him to behave like he’s not a Neanderthal but by now I know it’s better to choose my battles.
“What are you selling this time?”
Yep, here it goes, orange juice carton in hand…
I force myself not to react. “Organic Nation Yoga sent me their latest line so I’m going to set up my yoga mat on the balcony. It’s nice enough to shoot out there today.”
“Maybe I should skip college and become a pro photographer. You could employ me.”
“You couldn’t handle me as your boss. I’d stick to being a tech genius if I were you. It’ll be much easier.”
“True. And much less annoying.” He grins and I’m struck by how grown up he is now. He’s 6’1’’ and he’s filled out a lot over the past year. My brother has grown into a good-looking almost-man. But I can still see the little boy in him when he smiles.
I want so much for him to get everything he deserves out of life. “I’ll meet you outside.”
Within a few minutes, I’ve changed into the buttery-soft shorts and sports top with the built-in bra the sponsors sent me and have rolled out my yoga mat onto the tiny but fabulous balcony of our apartment. Now that the weather’s warmer, I’ve moved all my plants outside again. We have a table and chairs and a seating area with a south-facing view. I’ve strung strings of pendant lights, so at night it looks like a magical little outdoor room.
Josh moans something about how I’m interrupting his flow, but once my phone is in his hand he slips into his usual bossy art director role with ease.
I work through some poses, looking over my shoulder and down at my fingertips but never directly at the camera, posing so it looks like a photographer has just stumbled across me mid-practice. Josh has a knack too. He knows what it takes to get the shot.