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.
I WENT FOR AN ULTRASOUND AND SAW MY HUSBAND HUGGING A PREGNANT WOMAN — SO I SECRETLY FOLLOWED THEM
The ultrasound image, blurry yet undeniably real, still swam before my eyes. Two pink lines. Two tiny flickering lines that promised a future I had yearned for, a future I had almost given up on. After five years of longing, of disappointment, of tears shed in the quiet hours of the night, it was finally happening. I was pregnant.
But the joy that should have consumed me was quickly replaced by a chilling dread. As I walked out of the clinic, my eyes fell upon a scene that shattered my world. Ronald, my husband, stood in the hallway, his arms wrapped around a woman with a swollen belly. It wasn’t just a casual hug; it was a tender, intimate embrace, his hands resting gently on her burgeoning stomach.
A wave of nausea washed over me. Who was she? What was he doing here? The questions raced through my mind, each one sharper than the last. My carefully constructed world, the world I had envisioned with Ronald at the center, was crumbling before my eyes.
Gripping my purse tightly, I felt a surge of adrenaline. I couldn’t just stand there, frozen in disbelief. I had to know. I had to understand.
And so, I did something I never thought I would do. I followed them.
My heart pounded like a drum as I trailed behind them, my breath catching in my throat with every step. They walked slowly, their conversation hushed and intimate. I stayed hidden, peering through shop windows, ducking behind parked cars, feeling like a ghost in their world.
They turned down a narrow street, the houses quaint and old-fashioned. My gaze followed them to a small, two-story house with a rose bush spilling over the fence. This was it. Their destination.
I found a secluded spot across the street, my eyes glued to the window. The living room was cozy, filled with sunlight and the scent of freshly baked bread. They sat on a worn-out sofa, the pregnant woman gently stroking her belly. Ronald leaned in, his face radiating a warmth I had rarely seen directed towards me. He spoke softly, his voice filled with a tenderness that made my chest ache.
“I’m so excited, darling,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re going to be parents.”
The woman smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Me too, love. I can’t wait to meet our little one.”
“Our little one,” he repeated, the word hanging in the air.
The scene before me played out like a cruel, twisted movie. Their happiness, their shared dreams, mirrored my own, yet they were a mockery of my own hopes. I felt a wave of dizziness, the world tilting precariously on its axis.
As the afternoon wore on, I watched them. They laughed, they argued playfully, they planned for the future. I saw a love story unfold before my eyes, a love story that did not include me.
Finally, as dusk began to settle, they left the house, hand in hand. I watched them walk down the street, their silhouettes bathed in the fading light. And as they disappeared from view, I was left alone with the shattered pieces of my heart.
The walk back to my apartment was a blur. The joy of my pregnancy, the hope that had bloomed within me, felt like a distant memory. Betrayal, anger, and a deep, suffocating sadness consumed me. How could he? How could he do this to me?
That night, I cried myself to sleep, the ultrasound image of my tiny baby a bittersweet reminder of the shattered dreams. The next morning, I woke up with a resolve I didn’t know I possessed. I would not be a victim. I would fight for myself, for my baby, and for the future I had always envisioned.
The road ahead was uncertain, filled with pain and uncertainty. But I knew, deep down, that I would find my way. I would heal, I would be strong, and I would build a life for myself and my child, a life filled with love, joy, and happiness, a life that had nothing to do with him.
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