LATER THAT NIGHT, as I sat on the floor, blinds up, lights off, with ambition shining all around—the pale glow of tall office buildings, the faint neon of giant screens and marquees—I unwrapped the presents. A $2,500 gift certificate to SoulCycle. A large Balenciaga tote. A winter coat from Derek Lam I discovered cost over six thousand dollars when I went to the Madison Avenue store to exchange it for a smaller size. I opened his card last. The words, in his handwriting, were simple, kind, and positive. He believed in me, in my extraordinary capabilities.