Dave, fame, and Haines: Celebrity, suicide, and the etiquette of envy

Dave Matthews took a careful sip of his coffee. He'd just been to the dentist, and the right side of his face was noticeably swollen.

"The guy's standing there prying open my mouth, scraping the crap off my teeth and making my gums bleed and telling me about what a fan his daughter is– and could I sign a t-shirt for him after my cavity was filled," Matthews said.

He took another sip of coffee, and it dribbled down his chin. Behind us, the barista girls working the counter at Greenberry's were trying to act like it wasn't such a big deal to have a rock star in the room.

"Is it bad?" Matthews said, almost sheepishly. "Do I look stupid?"

"You can hardly notice it," I lied.

Matthews smiled and cocked his eyebrow, a familiar gesture that had become iconic to millions of fans. "You know, I was thinking about Haines the other day. It's funny you asked me to talk about him."

Everyone has a Haines story, a story about how he turned his light on them. I wondered what Dave's was.

"He was definitely an …