Upon completion of a work, writers are always asked the same two questions.
The first is, “Which character is you?” or some variation thereof. It is constantly speculated that the story you’ve written is nothing more than a roman à clef, the fictionalization of real events and real people, a potentially damning bit of prose designed to humiliate those fucktards who’ve wrong the author in real life.
And that leads to second question – “Is [Character X] based on me?”
Or some variation thereof.