Zac Efron has been a globetrotter since gaining fame, often jetting off for both business and pleasure. Despite this, he maintained his California roots, his birthplace, and his hometown. However, everything took an unexpected turn when he opted to spend more time overseas, leading him to rethink his lifestyle in search of genuine happiness.
He lived most of his life in the United States.
Originally from San Luis Obispo, in California, Zac Efron spent the majority of his life in the United States, having grown up close to the heart of Hollywood. Despite this, his parents were never involved in the entertainment business. Still, he took his first steps into that world early on in his life. His journey in acting and singing began during his time at Arroyo Grande High School in the early 2000s, with a drama teacher playing a pivotal role in connecting him to an agent.
After he achieved success with teen flicks like the High School Musical trilogy and 17 Again(2009), he shifted into more dramatic roles in films such as The Greatest Showman(2017) and, more recently, Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile(2019). It was this ever-growing filmography that allowed him to amass a net worth of around $25 million and allowed him to purchase a mansion in Los Feliz, Los Angeles, in 2013. He lived there for seven years until he no longer felt like it was the right place for him.
So, what happened to Zac Efron to make him change his mind? Keep reading to find out.
His L.A. house had everything to offer, but ultimately it wasn’t enough.
The 36-year-old actor put his Los Feliz home up for sale in December 2020, and the listing made public the house’s astounding features. The property, which is nestled against the Hollywood Hills and located in a prestigious neighborhood filled with plenty of celebrity residents, offers breathtaking views, accentuated by walls of glass, terraces, and numerous outdoor spaces that offer panoramic vistas of the city below.
With five bedrooms and five bathrooms within its 5.455-square-foot layout, the main level includes a living area, dining room, chef’s kitchen adjoining a family room, and a master suite with a spa-like bathroom. But that’s not all!
Additionally, it has three bedrooms with bathrooms downstairs, along with a separate one-bedroom, one-bath guesthouse. It also features amenities such as a gym, media room, game room, and security cameras, and the outdoor space includes view decks suitable for outdoor dining and lounging.
So, with all its potential, it wasn’t shocking that it sold in only a few months, despite the hefty price tag. In May 2021, the house sold for $5.3 million. Albeit below the initial asking price of $5.9 million, it still marks a profitable venture for Efron, as he paid around $4 million when he first purchased the property.
He fell in love with a different country.
In 2020, Efron made a move that had a deep impact on him — he relocated to Byron Bay, Australia. Back then, he still owned the Los Feliz mansion, so many thought it was just a temporary home. The fact that he lived out of a van, before buying a property in the Australian beachside town also led many to believe nothing much could come of the move.
However, he shot the second season of his Netflix documentary series Down to Earththere, which allowed him to spend over a year with the Aussies. Eventually, he did return to the US to enjoy quality time with his family, but it wasn’t long before he was once again on Australian ground. This time, it was to shoot Ricky Stanicky, a movie in which he co-stars with John Cena and that has yet to have a set date for its debut.
But a special situation might have sealed the deal for his ever-growing bond with the country. Shortly after he moved to Australia, Efron found love. He met Vanessa Valladares, a waitress at the Byron Bay General Store & Cafe, in June 2020. They began dating and eventually spent Christmas and New Year’s together in Australia. Although the couple has since called it quits, the relationship might have been the final trigger of Efron’s decision to move permanently from the US, as he then put his L.A. home on the market.
Finally, a source close to the actor revealed in January 2021, that Efron already considered Australia «home.»
The actor doesn’t think Hollywood is a healthy place to live in.
The actor had previously expressed his intention to move out of Hollywood, though, and it was precisely in a scene from Down to Earth. In the fourth episode, he candidly shared his desire to move away from the Hollywood scene and the lifestyle associated with it, and emphasized that it didn’t contribute in any way to a «long, happy, mentally-sound life.»
Curiously, what happened to Zac Efron also happened to Chris Hemsworth, in which both actors decided to move to Australia so they could distance themselves from the hecticness of Hollywood. Although Hemsworth himself is Australian, his mindset was similar to that of Efron.
In 2016, Hemsworth, known for his role as Thor in several Marvel movies, relocated his family from Los Angeles to Byron Bay. The 40-year-old similarly expressed a wish to escape the suffocating nature of being constantly surrounded by the entertainment industry. Opting for a more tranquil lifestyle, as of 2023, he and his family reside in a $20 million mega-mansion in Byron Bay’s hinterland, which they view as a healthier environment for their children to grow up in.
Zac Efron isn’t the only celebrity who decided to move to a new home. Many others did as well, and they spared no expenses to buy the luxury house of their dreams. We listed a few of the most expensive celebrity homes here and showed what makes them extraordinary.
My parents forced me to pay for my own dinner while they covered the bill for everyone else – Their justification was absurd
Jennifer’s parents caught her off guard during a family dinner by unexpectedly asking her to cover the cost of her meal, while they paid for everyone else. Jennifer’s resentment brews as the sting of unfairness deepens, setting the stage for a confrontation the family won’t forget.
The night I got the text from Mom about a “special family dinner,” I nearly choked on my microwaved ramen. It had been ages since we’d all gotten together, and even longer since it felt like my parents actually wanted me there.
love my family, but being the middle child is like being the bologna in a sandwich where everyone’s fighting over the bread.
I stared at my phone, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Part of me wanted to make up some lame excuse, but then I thought about Tina and Cameron, my perfect older sister and my can-do-no-wrong little brother.
They’d be there, basking in Mom and Dad’s approval, like always. And I’d remain the perpetual afterthought if I didn’t show up.
“Count me in,” I typed, hitting send before I could change my mind.
Mom replied instantly. “Great! Le Petit Château, 7 p.m. next Friday. Don’t be late!”
Le Petit Château. Fancy. I whistled low, already mentally tallying up my savings. This wasn’t going to be cheap, but hey, maybe it was a sign things were changing. Maybe they actually wanted to spend time with me, Jennifer the Forgettable.
That Friday, I arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early, feeling nervous. Just as I was about to go in, Mom and Dad showed up. Mom was all smiles, while Dad wore his usual concerned expression.
Inside, we found a cozy table, and soon after, Tina and Robert joined us. Tina looked stunning, as always, making me feel like a potato by comparison. Finally, Cameron arrived, late as usual, and complaining about traffic.
Now we were all settled, Mom wasted no time in making me feel insignificant.
“So, Jennifer,” Mom said, peering at me over her menu, “how’s work going? Still at that little marketing firm?”
I nodded, trying not to bristle at the ‘little’ part. “Yeah, it’s good. We just landed a pretty big client, actually. I’m heading up the campaign.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Mom said, her attention already drifting back to Tina, who was regaling Dad with tales of her son’s latest soccer game.
That stung, but the atmosphere improved while we ate. The food was great, and soon we were talking and laughing like we used to when I was a kid.
I was enjoying the meal and the rare feeling of being part of the family, but then the check came.
Dad reached for it and started going over the bill, like he always did. But then he frowned, looking directly at me.
“Jennifer,” he said, his voice oddly formal, “you’ll be covering your portion tonight.”
I blinked, sure I’d heard him wrong. “What?”
“You’re an adult now,” he continued, as if explaining something to a child. “It’s time you start paying your own way.”
“But…” I started, my voice small, “I thought this was a family dinner. You’re paying for everyone else.”
Dad’s frown deepened. “Your sister and brother have families to support. You’re single, so it’s only fair.”
Fair. The word echoed in my head, mocking me. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. Without a word, I pulled out my credit card and handed it to the waiter, praying it wouldn’t get declined.
The rest of the night was a blur. As I drove home, the hurt began to curdle into something else. Something harder, angrier.
The next morning, I woke up with a headache and a heart full of resentment. I spent the day alternating between moping on the couch and pacing my apartment like a caged animal. By evening, something inside me had shifted.
I wasn’t just going to let this go. Not this time.
An idea started to form. Crazy at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. I was going to give them a taste of their own medicine.
I invited Mom and Dad over for dinner and then spent days perfecting the menu. I cleaned my apartment until it sparkled, bought fancy candles, and even splurged on a tablecloth that didn’t come from the dollar store.
The night of the dinner arrived, and I was eerily calm. I had a plan, and I was sticking to it.
The doorbell rang at 7 p.m. sharp. I took a deep breath and opened the door with a smile plastered on my face.
“Mom, Dad! Come in!”
Dad handed me a bottle of wine. “Place looks nice, Jennifer.”
“Thanks,” I said, ushering them to the living room. “Dinner’s almost ready. Can I get you something to drink?”
As I poured their wine, Mom settled onto the couch, her eyes roaming over my bookshelf. “So, how have you been, dear? We haven’t heard much from you since… well, since our last dinner.”
I forced a light laugh. “Oh, you know how it is. Work’s been crazy busy.”
We made small talk for a while, the conversation stilted and full of long pauses. Finally, the oven timer beeped, saving us all.
“Dinner’s ready!” I announced, perhaps a bit too cheerfully.
I’d outdone myself with the meal: herb-crusted salmon, roasted vegetables, and a quinoa salad that had taken forever to get right. Mom and Dad made appropriate noises of appreciation as they ate.
“This is delicious, Jennifer,” Mom said, sounding genuinely impressed. “I didn’t know you could cook like this.”
I shrugged, tamping down the flare of resentment at her surprise. “I’ve picked up a few things over the years.”
The dinner progressed smoothly, almost pleasantly. I almost forgot why I’d invited them over in the first place. Then Dad started with one of his lectures about financial responsibility, and I knew it was time.
As I cleared the plates and brought out a fancy tiramisu for dessert, I steeled myself. This was it.
“So,” I said casually, setting down the dessert plates, “I hope you enjoyed the meal.”
They both nodded, smiling. “It was wonderful, dear,” Mom said.
I smiled back, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Great. That’ll be $47.50 each, please.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Mom’s fork clattered against her plate, and Dad’s face went through a rapid series of emotions – confusion, disbelief, and then anger.
“I’m sorry, what?” he sputtered.
I kept my voice calm, channeling Dad’s tone from that night at the restaurant. “Well, you’re both adults. It’s time you started paying your own way.”
Mom’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “But… but this is your home. You invited us.”
“Yes,” I said, my voice hardening slightly. “Just like you invited me to Le Petit Château. And then made me pay for my meal while covering everyone else’s.”
Understanding dawned on their faces, quickly followed by shame.
“Jennifer,” Dad started, his voice gruff. “That’s not… we didn’t mean…”
“Didn’t mean what?” I interrupted, years of pent-up frustration finally boiling over.
“Didn’t mean to make me feel like I’m worth less than Tina or Cameron? Didn’t mean to constantly overlook me? Or did you just not mean to get called out on it?”
Mom reached out, trying to take my hand, but I pulled away. “Sweetie, we had no idea you felt this way.”
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course you didn’t. Do you have any idea what it’s like to always be the afterthought in your own family?”
Dad shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“We love you just as much as your siblings, Jennifer.”
“Do you?” I challenged. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’m just as successful as Tina, just as hardworking as Cameron. But somehow, I’m always the one who’s expected to ‘act like an adult’ while they get a free pass.”
The room fell silent again, but this time it was heavy with unspoken words and long-ignored feelings.
Finally, Dad cleared his throat. “We… we owe you an apology, Jennifer. A big one.”
Mom nodded, tears in her eyes. “We never meant to make you feel less valued. You’re our daughter, and we love you so much. We’ve just… we’ve done a terrible job of showing it.”
I felt my own eyes welling up, but I blinked back the tears. “I don’t want your apologies. I want you to do better. To be better. To see me.”
Dad stood up, his movements stiff. For a moment, I thought he was going to leave.
Instead, he walked around the table and hugged me. It was awkward and a little too tight, but it was more genuine than any interaction we’d had in years.
“We see you, Jennifer,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “And we’re so, so proud of you. We’ve been blind and stupid, and we’ve taken you for granted. But that ends now.”
Mom joined the hug, and for a minute, we just stood there, a tangle of arms and unshed tears and long-overdue honesty.
When we finally broke apart, Mom wiped her eyes and gave a watery chuckle. “So, about that bill…”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Tell you what. This one’s on the house. But next time we go out? We’re splitting the check evenly. All of us.”
Dad nodded solemnly. “Deal.”
As they left that night, things weren’t magically fixed. Years of feeling overlooked and undervalued don’t disappear in one conversation. But it was a start. A crack in the wall I’d built around myself, letting in a glimmer of hope.
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