Between June 29 and July 12, Conrad toed the edge of the cliff and backed away. The night of July 9, he was ready to go with a generator.
Michelle asked: "How long til you die
."
Conrad said he didn't know. "Could be in 5/30 minutes."
Three minutes passed. Michelle wrote: "Wait so this is serious right like the thing is on and you're gonna die soon?" At 5:32 the next morning: "Conrad." At 8:41: "Conrad please answer me right now you're scaring me." Was that a cover-up? It seemed more plausible that the suicide flickered as a possibility without settling into reality.
Michelle compounded this impression by threading her texts to Conrad with fiction. Because nothing like this had ever happened to her, she had to build the framework from the materials at hand, culled from white-teen culture. In July 2013, Cory Monteith, a star of the TV show Glee, had overdosed in a hotel room. His costar and real-life girlfriend, Lea Michele, led the cast in a tribute episode. Michelle texted Conrad word for word from it. On July 7, five days before Conrad's suicide, Michelle went to see The Fault in Our Stars. At the movie's climax, a terminal-cancer patient, dying in his Jeep, calls his girlfriend for help. Afterward, Michelle texted Conrad: "I literally can't stop crying lol what's up with you?"
What makes these allusions uncanny is Conrad's apparent unfamiliarity with the source material. Like many sad young men, he professed to believe that television and social media were turning his generation apathetic. A day after Michelle texted a long unattributed quote from Lea Michele, Conrad wrote: "I think it's getting really out of hand, especially with all these shows and the media is ruining what culture is supposed to be like."
The dissonance caught my attention. It implied not that Michelle was successfully writing some script in which Conrad was a character but that he was incommensurate with the intensity Michelle projected on him. I came to feel that a shape existed in her mind that predated him.