Gemotions

He found it tucked beneath the mattress, a spiral-bound notebook filled with scrawling handwriting. The title, "The Ballad of Bartholomew," seemed innocent enough until he flipped it open. His stomach churned as he read the first few lines, a clumsy, but unmistakable, portrayal of himself.

A vein throbbed in his temple. He slammed the notebook shut, the sound echoing in the silent apartment. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt a rising sense of indignation. This was about him, wasn't it? Every detail, from the way he chewed his toast to his inexplicable fondness for dad jokes, was laid bare.

He marched to the kitchen, where his partner, David, was humming cheerfully, preparing breakfast. "Care to explain this?" he asked, holding up the notebook.