Stop Pretending | Saltburn

Chapter 4

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Ronan couldn't tell anyone what had happened last night, not between him and Farleigh and definitely not between him and Oliver. He felt lost and confused about why he was popping the tire of some prick bike, and it didn't matter after he finished his devilish deed. He felt something was stirring and now had a part in it that he'd later regret, especially as he thought Oliver brushed past him.

"I'm sorry..." Ronan only frowned, noticing the character he portrayed, The socially awkward Oliver he met in the corner store. That Oliver was not honest, that small male was a fake, and it pissed him off. Being involved with that snake and taking the forbidden fruit from him was his fault. Ronan was in a mouse-trapped maze that Oliver built just for him to control him.

Fuck me... He lost sight of Oliver. All he could do was head to his dorm until it was time for his next class, yet he figured he would skip it. He continuously played with his lighter as he walked, only to be pulled behind a tree, "What now, damn it, I don't have time for this..." He grunted before looking at his possible savior.

"Don't have time? Right..." Farleigh never let go of his arm. He seemed annoyed by something: "Who the hell is that nobody you keep hanging around?"

"Who? Oliver?... don't you see that one professor with him?" Farleigh only sighed, letting him go and stealing his lighter to light a cigarette that he had pulled out at some point.

"I do, unfortunately... he's a freaky nature, no? Look, I don't like the fucker, and you seem to know him."He blew smoke rings into his face and traced the engraved crest in the lighter.

"Like I told you before, I moved to Prescott or some shit with my parents... Oliver's parent just so happens to be my parent's neighbor." Farleigh looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"And you want me to believe you didn't do anything with him?" Ronan groaned in annoyance, snatching the lighter from him.

"You know me. I can't help myself around freaks, okay? Happy?" Farleigh rolled his eyes, flicking ashes to the side.

"No, I'm not. He's fucking odd... I don't like it one bit... stay away from him." Ronan shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

"And are you gonna stay away from those old rich dicks?" He said jokingly, making Farleigh hit his arm.

"This isn't about me, damn it!" Ronan shook his head and started to walk away.

"Just say you're jealous and want all my attention next time, sweetheart!" He waved, leaving his sight. Farleigh couldn't stop himself from turning red from frustration or the nickname sweetheart... He couldn't decide; he only wanted Ronan to stop being stubborn and listen to him for once.

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Everyone was at the pub- well, anyone with friends to be there with; Ronan was particularly forced there by Felix Catton. So, sitting between him and Farleigh wasn't his ideal night. He honestly wanted to leave for the town because of an underground party his band set up, but he was stuck with a rich idiot, two girls whose names he didn't care to remember, and Farleigh, who kept stealing his cigarette every couple of minutes. He didn't mind Farleigh; he would have rejected the invitation if Felix hadn't mentioned the beautiful male being there.

He kept his attention on Farleigh, who kept teasing him while the girls tried flirting with him but failed repeatedly. Felix, however, almost wanted to make it his business to get Ronan's attention but failed as well; he probably wouldn't have given up had he not seen a similar face.

"Oh! There he is! Ollie! Oliver! Oliver, come here, mate!" Felix's voice gave him a reason to pay attention to him, they sat in the king's arms, and he felt like it was a stupid name for a bar, but it fucking England. They have stupid names for everything; Farleigh leaned onto him more, stealing the cigarette, then took a drag and blew the smoke into his face. "Come here!" Ronan began to register who was awkwardly walking up to their group, Felix's savior or something along those lines. "Hiya, mate!"