Emma was born on a luxury cruise ship of wealthy parents, who were both actors. She was given a lot of great food, toys, and a good lifestyle.

'This is delicious!' she often commented on her mum's food.

Emma entered her room one day and looked around. Her four-poster bed, her chandelier from Sweden, her vase from Russia and her grand piano. She slumped on the bed and scrolled through her phone.

Her door slammed open and her mum came rushing in, pulling at her magnificent blonde hair.

'I've lost my jooob!' she screamed and shook Emma, and started pacing around the room.

'What are we gonna do, what are we gonna do?!' she kept repeating.

'Don't worry, Mum. We can fix this,' Emma tried to see the bright side of things.

'No, we can't! I would have to be a boring low-paying window cleaner instead! Ohhh, what are we gonna doooooo? And, more importantly, what is your dad gonna say about this?!' her Mum yelled, and then rushed muttering from the room.

Emma and her mum waited around the house -- the mansion, more like, -- for Emma's dad to come home. When he did come, Emma didn't break the news to him straightaway.

'Hi, Dad!' Emma exclaimed, trying to make herself believe everything was okay. she led her dad into the kitchen where her mum was waiting, her face sulken.

'Why the long face, my looove?' he slapped her on the back.

He poured himself a cup of exclusively organic green tea (from Finland) and put it to his lips. He lit a candlestick. The table looked very peaceful, ironic really, to what was happening in Emma's and her mum's minds.

'I've -- I've lost my job,' Emma's mum whispered.

Emma's dad spat out his tea over his wife. Some of it went over the candlestick and it went out, puffing out a smelly gray smoke.

The couple looked on at each other for a long moment. It seemed like they had forgotten all about Emma standing there.

'We can't repair this, can we?' he whispered. It was more of a rhetorical question.