Chapter Text
Although he didn't think about it much, there was something in the back of Jack's mind he'd think about on occasion. It was a question he didn't have the answer to and, for the most part, it didn't bother him.
Until Ruggie made a comment, as he drank an entire 2 liter bottle of soda on his own, then he was confused again.
"I just don’t know, for sure, if I’m upper middle class or not."
The hyena stops drinking for a second. "Can I ask you a couple questions?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
Ruggie gestures to his bed and Jack plops himself down on it. Ruggie pulls out his desk chair and sits backwards in it.
"Okay, so, does your family own your house?"
"Yes." But it's been in my family for generations.
"You own two jet skis? Right?"
One for his parents, and the other for him and his siblings, "Yes."
"-and how many times a year do you go on vacation? "
'Twice, maybe three times?"
"Jack. You are Upper Middle class. "
He sighs, "I thought so."
Only because of his family's hard work.
Ruggie stops drinking the soda, "Can I act my age for a second?"
Jack cocks his head in confusion. "Yes?"
"Okay, let me down this bottle real quick and I’ll impart some old man wisdom."
He watches the hyena chug the last of the liter of soda, before capping the bottle, licking his lips, and continuing.
.
.
.
"Okay so, let me tell you this, as someone who narrowly avoided poverty in my early childhood: there’s nothing wrong with being Upper Middle Class.
The main issue most people have with upper middle classmen is the fact they either refuse to acknowledge their status or constantly flaunt it. There’s nothing inherently wrong with being more wealthy or privileged, it’s more about how you use your money and status.
If you acknowledge and use your high status in society to help others, and lift the voices of those less fortunate, then nobody should have a problem with someone they know being richer than them.
If they continue to be mean to you, even after using your privilege for the good of others, then there is something wrong with them, not you.
.
.
.
Okay I’m done now. You got any snacks?"
"Yeah," He pulls the plastic wrappers from his pockets. A habit from having younger siblings. "I got fruit gummies."
"Fucking awesome dude."