On paper, he had an enviable life.
Beautiful girlfriends, designer clothes and attending the glitzy events that make headlines around the world.
He even looked like a model – so he fitted in well on the reality show on which he found fame – Love Island.
Teeth gleaming white, he was toned and tanned with abs that looked like they’d been spray painted with a stencil.
The way the magazine covers tell men they too could look with some hard work and no carbs ever.
But Mike Thalassitis’s life was a million miles from what we saw and thought it was.
In fact, it was desperate – with confidantes now admitting he was blighted by debts and grief after the death of his gran who he had cared for in her last months.
He was so desperate that last week he took his own life, hanging himself in woods near his home aged just 26 years old.
It’s a wake up call on many levels.
Former contestants on Love Island – which films young men and women on a tropical island for months, seeing who teams up with who, who lasts, who doesn’t, who cries, who does what when the lights go down. . . . you get the idea – say they are left with no professional help afterwards to help them deal with instant fame.
That is an issue which must be addressed.
As “have it all” as these people seem, the facade – which often comes with cosmetic help from boob to teeth jobs – can mask huge insecurities.
Yes they want fame for fame’s sake, but does that make them fair game – or is it the biggest sign of insecurity you can get?
After walking away from such a transformational show, some may need help.
Male suicides have consistently accounted for approximately three-quarters of all suicides in the UK since the mid-1990s.
At 15.5 deaths per 100,000 it may be at its lowest rate since 1981, but it is still the single biggest killer of men under the age of 45.
Social media has a lot to answer for.
Picture perfect lives make the rest of us feel inadequate and try to play catch up – and yet the very people whose lives we envy can be as empty and suicidal as Mike’s, like one big deluded, dark circle.
Maybe Mike’s alleged debt was in no small part down to trying to keep up with those he saw on his own social media feeds.
We might not be able to identify every person who’s down and in danger of suicidal thoughts – though it shouldn’t stop us looking for warning signs.
But something we can do in the here and now is realise and tell young men – our sons, grandsons and pals – that the images thrown at us are not always all they seem.
Sometimes we are happier having a pint at our local or catching up with a pal than these stars are in their lives – something that goes against everything we are taught to believe in the cult of celebrity.
The currency for happiness on the likes of Facebook and Instagram is clinking glasses on white-sanded beaches, flying first class and celeb pals.
But it’s a sham. We can’t believe what we see, otherwise Mike would be alive today.