They like to consider themselves different, I suppose.

[Different from other rich people. In Mika's opinion they're not that different, though. He shakes his own hair, feeling the cool droplets run down his back. This won't do. It's far too distracting. Rembering he has an umbrella, he opens it up and tries his best to share the space below it. Given that he has the maddening urge to dance and move, even something simple like that is harder than it should be.]

I really hope so. Come on, let's not stay out here in the rain. Do you want to come see where I live?