Stop Pretending | Saltburn

Chapter 3

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Another daydream of the past, Ronan was always in his head, even at parties, Yes he liked to party, but he wanted to let loose, but here, with all these rich fucks he felt boxed in, but he didn't mind if it meant he could watch Farleigh do his thing God he's beautiful.

"Come dance with me!" He couldn't say no to the drunken girl; he was tipsy. He let the girl drag him into the crowd to dance and drink more; he relished in this shit.

He couldn't care about what was happening at all; he was grinding against the drunken girl who was constantly trying to find her way to his lips, but he was much too tall for her, and his eyes were on Farleigh.

Farleigh. Farleigh. Farleigh. His mind was filled with lust, alcohol, and Farleigh, and it began to scare him. He couldn't have fun. He felt likely getting violent because of the trash music that was playing, and the lights were starting to bug him; he moved the drunken girl aside, and she was dancing with someone else immediately. He took this opportunity to rush out of the party with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips and struggled to find his lighter as he finally got outside.

He knew he felt someone staring at him but couldn't care enough to see them. He just began to walk further away from the noise, not hearing the footsteps that followed, "fuck that bitch stole my lighter!" He listened to a drunken chuckle coming behind him, and he finally looked back to see that caramel-skinned boy with a head full of curls that he could imagine ruining if he was given the chance.

"Need a light, Cowboy?" Farleigh had followed him out, grinning as he got close enough to him to light the cigarette, only to steal it from him.

"I ain't a fucking cowboy..." he practically growled as he watched him blow smoke rings into his face.

"Whatever you say, why'd you leave? I could have sworn you were finally having fun with us all." He flicked the ashes to the side and crossed his arms.

"It got boring, plus my head is hurting from that lame-ass music." he took his cigarette back and walked past him.

"Now, where do you think you are going? You practically belong there-"

"We don't fucking belong there, Farleigh!" he looked back at him. He was suddenly angry. Farleigh was unafraid but frowned.

"We? Who is we?" Ronan blew smoke from his nose and rolled his eyes.

"God damn it, you've become delusional... these people don't care about you, especially not your cousin's family." Farleigh scoffed in disbelief.

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"They pay for your fucking education because they felt bad! They pity you and treat you like a damn dog... and you just have to be loyal like one."

"You're drunk... go back to your dorm or something." Ronan got close, and all Farleigh could feel was his heart bumping from his throat. Ronan reeked of cigarettes, alcohol, and a cheap ass cologne, but he liked it on him.

"I don't gotta be drunk to see through their bullshit. They don't care about your shit; I bet they get offended when you even mention being black for fuck sake... it's pathetic-" Farleigh smacked the living hell out of him; it shocked him once he realized what he did when he saw the cigarettes on the ground still burning.

"Ronan. Fuck i'm sorry. I didn't-"

"Stop pretending you care. You only sought me out because you knew it would impress your fucking cousin. I'm a pawn. I've always been a fucking pawn in this stupid chess game that only you are playing..."