Ramsey Baartholomew's diary

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Let Me Ram This Home To You
People will tell you, in this day and age, romance is dead. I agree. I am the epitome of romance. Princesses swoon, noblemen will ask for my hand. And I like to think I’m pretty dead inside. Ergo, romance is dead.

Who I am, you ask? Why, you don’t know my name? Nothing at all about the grandest romantic, the most devastatingly handsome and tragic of all gentlemen whom you will one day call King?

I didn’t really hexpect that you would. But you will. And maybe you’ll scream my name, or address it in beautiful, practised cursive, escorted by doodled hearts and soft lips smeared in tint upon the envelope.

Point is, I’m Ramsey Baartholomew. At Ever After High, I’m one of the elite. I study among princes, I’m from an honourable Madame D’Aulnoy tale, I’m one of the Enchanted Husbands. Eligibility-wise, I think I have a lot to offer.

But I’m sure love - real love, the kind filled with determination and trust in fairytales - is found from more than just a neat resume of traits. I’m more than a list of my accomplishments. I’m an entire human being, or cursed-sheep-to-be.

I don't know what I'm getting at.

But I do think I write pretty beautifully though, so you're a fool if you haven't tricked yourself into thinking you adore me yet.

Chapter 1
TBA