The following content is satirical and fictional. Any resemblance to a student, staff or faculty member is coincidental.

Picture this: I’m strolling through campus, my Chanel shades shielding my eyes from the Tennessee sun, when I see a stack of newspapers featuring a headline that ends in “housing crisis.” A couple of days before, I overheard some students griping about the cost of rent. They’re all like, “It’s just so expensive to live here!” while I’m just standing there, trying not to laugh.

I can’t help but double over and giggle at the notion of “expensive” housing for college students in Knoxville. You see, I’ve spent my whole life indulging in the finer things in life, courtesy of my Daddy’s platinum credit card. So let me tell you, what passes for pricey in Knoxville wouldn’t even register as a glitch on my financial radar back home in New York City.

You see, my family owns a penthouse overlooking Central Park. That’s right, Central freaking Park. The rent for that place could probably buy you a whole block here in Knoxville. My playground was the Plaza Hotel, and my classroom was the iconic Saks Fifth Avenue.

You can correctly assume that I spent my formative years surrounded by the trappings of wealth and privilege that define the upper echelons of society. So when the time came for me to spread my wings and journey to college, I did so with the confidence of knowing that the city of Knoxville wouldn’t hurt my wallet but help it. Of course, I never use my own trust fund money since Daddy is always one plea away from buying me the world. So forgive me if I can’t sympathize with your “struggles” to find affordable housing.

After I suffered through dorm life during my first year at college, I knew I needed to return to my luxurious and eccentric lifestyle. I mean, really, how is the pile of bricks that is Brown Hall the nicest dorm on campus? Dorm room? More like a prison cell.

When I finally escaped my personal prison featuring a shared bathroom and roommate, my first move was to type “Luxury apartments in Knoxville” into my search bar, filter out anything below $2,000 a month and press go. Let me tell you, I was appalled at what Knoxville labeled “luxury living.”

Knoxville apartments flaunt amenities like a pool or a gym and act as if they’re offering the keys to a luxury kingdom. But forgive me if I’m not impressed. In New York City, luxury means a concierge at your beck and call, a penthouse with panoramic views and a spa that rivals those of a five-star resort. Here in Knoxville, it’s just, well, cute.

Despite the undeniable bargain that Knoxville’s housing market represents, some believe otherwise. They rage about rising rents and dwindling options, painting a picture of hardship and struggle that does not align with my experience.

To them, I say this: Perhaps it is time to check your privilege and recognize that what may seem expensive to some is a drop in the bucket for others.

I can’t even post a “What I Got for Christmas” haul on TikTok anymore out of fear of being canceled — again. The people wanted to see what I got and then turned around and canceled me because, apparently, I wasn’t grateful enough. If I expect the gifts, how can I be grateful for them?

Anyways, a college apartment is not just a place to rest my head — it is a sanctuary from the hustle and bustle of college life, a haven where I can escape the pressures of school and unwind in peace. At just $6,000 a month, that haven is practically free.

While my less fortunate peers may fret over their budgets and pinch their pennies, I find myself reveling in the sheer absurdity of it all. After all, when you become accustomed to the decadence of high society, a couple of thousand dollars a month for rent is little more than a rounding error on Daddy’s balance sheet.

So, when it comes to housing, let’s not kid ourselves. These “luxury” apartments that students can barely afford are a far cry from the opulent lifestyle I’m accustomed to. Therefore, I refuse to take part in the grumbling over Knoxville’s “expensive” housing.