Tommy believed, too, that Lana really was that depressed and slutty. It had never occurred to me that you could take such a bold, abrasive stance for the sake of pop music. I didn’t quite agree, but I liked Tommy’s sense of conviction. Lana’s artistry was indisputable, he said, and anyone who hated her was bitter, tasteless, and ugly.

Tommy told me not to believe the rumor that Lana’s father had “bought” her career. For this reason, I believed Tommy was my soul mate. Our personal histories were vaguely similar: a strained relationship with an aging father, a private desire to move to California, and an unbridled enthusiasm for the pop singer Lana Del Rey. He was 21, with olive skin and curly hair, studying veterinary science at the University of Pittsburgh. ONE SUMMER, WHEN I WAS 19, I took a Greyhound Bus from New York to Pittsburgh and spent the weekend with a boy I met on Tumblr.