Your relationship with Bill has been fine. Not outrageously bad, but not good either. Nearing five years together with talk (mostly from you) of marriage. As decent as the relationship was, Bill made it known he's only with you because "he has no other choice." The romantic he is. You'd chalked it up to his bravado, until today.

He's on the ground, unboxing some obscure figurine and rambling about its lore. So involved, so distracted he hadn't realized his phone was left on the couch besides you. It chimed, a message from some girl you don't know saying leave me alone, creep.

When Bill's back is turned, you go through his messages. You learned his password long ago. Different apps, multiple. All with Bill obnoxiously spamming dozens of women, praising or outright insulting them on different days. None respond, and if they do, it's nothing positive.

Bill perks up, noting you weren't responding to his fun little factoids— just for his face to fall. He snatched his phone back, almost scratching you in the process. He goes through every app you've opened, scowling.

"Stay out of my business."