Who lived there? The only person I knew of was a high-school acquaintance, rumored to have dropped out of college after he made his fortune on the stock market. He drove a Porsche. He lived the life.

So I had heard.

Do they have hot tubs at Zaragon? Rooftop tennis courts? Live tigers as extravagant pets? Maybe. I simply didn’t know. But I vowed to myself that if I ever made it big (hitting the lottery, creating the next Internet sensation or starting my own band) I would immediately move to Zaragon to cement my status as a kid who was as cool as Ferris Bueller.

A year or so later, I found myself rising in Zaragon’s elevator to a party on the top floor. The dream was coming true, partially. What sort of wonders would I encounter? The answer was quite simple. Instead of exotic animals, I saw a beautiful apartment. And while there was no hot tub, there was an amazing view of a glowing Ann Arbor. Somehow, it was nothing like I imagined, but it still met my expectations.

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