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the tragic mishaps of farleigh and lena start: a saltburn story

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳!𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩, 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹, 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘩!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳(?)

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘖𝘹𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘺. 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥; 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺’𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦. (2.8𝘬)

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘴

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵?? 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦, 𝘵𝘵𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘴:𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘰... 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘪𝘭𝘺<3

𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘺/𝘯 𝘪𝘴: Lena Start

📍OXFORD | June 20th, 2006

“You’re sure you need a tutor?” Oliver asks, wrinkles between his brows. “You seem to know this stuff.”

“No, it’s my fucking professor.” You roll your eyes, “He made it mandatory for us to pass.”

“What, the entire class needs a tutor?”

“Not the entire class, just us. Like, me, Felix, Annabel, India- That lot. They weren’t exactly on their best behavior that day.” You twirl your curls around your finger.

Oliver looks up from the textbook, his head slightly tilted as the golden sun beaming into the empty library reflects in his eyes.

“Felix…I’d-“ He looks back down. “I’d expect that out of him, maybe. But you?”

“What, you think I’m a top of the class star student like you, Oliver?”

“No, no.” He shyly chuckles, “I dunno, I just thought you’d be the one to whip ‘em into shape, you know?”

“God, no one can whip Felix Catton into shape.” You retrieve a lighter and cig from your pocket, flicking the flame until it sets alight.

Oliver’s glistening eyes dart around the dim media center like a child stealing candy.

“Are you sure you should-“

“Oh, fuck off, Oliver. Don’t act like you haven’t smoked here before.” You inhale, chuckling. “You reeked of it when you left Felix’s room the other day, please.”

“You saw me leave Felix’s room?”

“I did.” You smirk as his expression progressively fills with some unknown yet frantic emotion, “Were you two cooking meth in there? Good God. Breathe, love.”

He nervously laughs, a hint relief in his breath.

“No, not that. I was just…I was telling him how my dad…” He trails off as you listen intently, finishing the sentence in your head. “He invited me to stay for the summer. At Saltburn.”

“Did he, now?” Your brows raise, your smirk now forming a smile. “Well congrats on losing your soul to Felix, mate. Join the club.” You laugh, blowing smoke into his face.

“Will you be there too?” He asks, disregarding your previous comment.

“If I survive this semester, then yea. Farleigh and I are there every summer.”

“Farleigh…” Oliver mumbles, almost to himself.

“…My brother.” You remind him, deciding to leave the ‘step’ out for the first time in forever.

“Yeah, yeah! Farleigh, I know him.” He assures you.

You just chuckle at his skittishness, “What about your academics, Mr. Einstein? You chuffed for your exams?”

“Erm, I wouldn’t say that, no. You know, I’ll do them, of course. But I guess I’d rather not. Felix says I should skip them.”

“He’s right, no? Fuck’s sake, your father’s just passed and you’re tutoring for bloody exams?”

“My tuition isn’t payed for like yours, Lena. I have to stay here.”

You slowly nod as you lean back in your chair, your elbow perched on the arm. “You think I’m a spoiled rich girl, huh?”

“No- I didn’t say that-“

“But that’s what you meant.” You insist. “Just because I live with the Catton’s doesn’t mean I can’t understand you, Ollie. I’m not your fucking God like Felix-“

“Felix isn’t my God-“

“Well he’s all you’re eager to talk about.” You continue, not missing a beat. “I’m not him. I’m not Farleigh, I’m not Annabel, I’m not India. I’m not built in a factory like them, alright? Maybe someone actually likes you for you, Ollie, can you believe it?”

You motion your mind being blown, evoking a small laugh out of Oliver.

“Anyway,” You tap on the textbooks, “Back to this.” You sit up straight in your chair.

📍SALTBURN | July 15, 2006

The cold marble flooring shocks you awake as you tip-toe through the dark house. Moonlight shines through the floor to ceiling windows, the only illumination present. Your too-long-for-you plaid pajama pants do little to keep you warm in contrast to your too-tiny-for-you flimsy tank.

You grab a glass off of the counter. Light suddenly becomes abundant as you pull the refrigerator door open. You squint, only being met with ingredients - no food. You throw your head back, a light groan escaping you before settling on wine and retrieving the already opened bottle.

You pour a glass that may as well weigh your body weight before putting it back, slamming the door and spinning on your heels.

“Oh!” Your body jolts as you see a flash of a shadow passing the window and approaching the exterior door. Your blood runs cold and you’re frozen in place for a millisecond before seeing the shadow enter, suddenly becoming a man.

“Jesus, Oliver.” You hold your chest, setting your glass on the island. “You could’ve fucking killed me.”

“Sorry…” He holds his elbows.

It’s now that you realize he hasn’t changed clothes from this tea time with Elsbeth. Only having his thin dress trousers to cover the prominent print underneath them.

“What are you even doing?” You inquiry, regaining your footing. “It’s like 2 in the morning and fucking freezing.”

“Oh, I was just- I was looking out of my window at the garden. Reckoned I’d-“

“Looking at the gardens at 2am, that’s completely normal.” You kid, sipping your wine, “And you just, what, went out and looked at the flowers while powering your nose?”

“Powdering my nose.” He lets out that familiar nervous laugh.

“I was going-“

You’re cut off by the door opening again. Though it’s dark, you’d recognize the grown out roots if they were inside out.

“…Hello, Venetia.”

You get no answer. She only fiddles with her dress and continues to beeline for her room, keeping her head down.

You slowly turn your attention back to Oliver. Your eyes scan his tall frame. Nothing stands out, nothing but the glistening wetness around his lips. The moon almost makes it out to be deep red, the illusion of a vampire boy standing before you.

Disheveled Venetia and unordinary Oliver coming in from the garden forces your mind to go to one place. The same place it went a few summers ago when you caught Eddie in the same spot.

“Hm,” You hum, sipping once more. “You’re an odd one, Ollie.”

📍SALTBURN | September 9th, 2006

Oliver rushes into the vast bathroom, throwing his cufflinks onto the floor.

“He’s humiliated me in front of everyone.” He breathes heavily, staring at himself in the mirror.

“It’s the Henry’s, they humiliate themselves.” You rest your back in the doorway, breath short from chasing him upstairs.

“No, it’s not funny, Lena. It’s serious.”

“Oliver, Farleigh’s a dick, you know this.” You scoff. “Our family’s going through something, alright - He’s already stressed. You imposing on his life only makes it worse. Just…give him time.”

He leans and rocks his hips on the counter edge, angrily wrapping a towel around his hand.

“He’s lucky people were around...”

“Ollie, please.” You laugh a little harder than you mean to, “What would you have done, fought him? Taken him back to the Oliver factory and put batteries in him? He just sees you as a threat, it’s not a big deal. He’ll get over it, I swear-“

You damn near duck behind the doorframe when Oliver’s wrapped fist makes contact with the, now shattered, mirror. He only stares at the impact point as your jaw hangs open. You linger on him, listening to his breaths becoming more frantic and his fist still shaking out of fury.

You don’t dare speak to this Ollie. You’re far too afraid to.

📍SALTBURN | September 10th, 2006

“I would never do this shit- Why would I do this? It makes no fucking sense.” Farleigh can barely speak through his sobs.

“I know, Farls, I believe you.” You rub his curled up body, his shaking bones vibrating through the bed.

The tension in the house grows thicker by the minute as the accusations against your brother spread like a virus.

You comfort him, as he would you. But no matter how much you believe every word he says, you have to recognize how terrible it looks.

“Someone had to fuck-“ He sniffles, “Fucking blackmail me or something.”

“But who would do that, Farleigh?” You ask, knowing full well he’s a prick to half of Oxford’s student population.

“We’re with the fucking Cattons!” He weeps, “We’re a target to everybody! It could’ve been anyone, Lena! God, they’re never going to help mom out now that-“

“Hey, hey.” You stroke his hair. “I’ll figure this out, yeah? I promise.”

Farleigh continues to bawl, incoherent. You can’t help but hear the same gossipy whispers that you’d once been a part of in the next hall over. It’s instantly recognizable.

“I’ll be back.” You press a kiss onto your step brother’s shoulder before heading toward the door, shutting it behind you.

The hushed talk gets louder and louder as you near Venetia’s bedroom. The door may as well have been wide open, as they haven’t bothered to close it.

“You have to admit…It’s a little bit dark. Him having to go to mum and dad with a begging bowl.”

“Oh, boo-fucking-hoo.”

You creep into the doorway. Venetia lays on the floor propped on her elbows, her brother sitting on her bed.

“Alright, yes, it was incredibly fucking stupid. He-“

“Felix.” She cuts him off, making eye contact with you.

You defensively cross your arms, “Oh no, don’t silence yourselves now. You’ve shit talked him all morning. Please, go on.”

“Lena…” Felix says softly.

“No, it’s fucking sad how quickly you turned on him. How you’d even believe he’d do something so stupid. Honestly, I feel sorry for you. It’s utterly pathetic, really.”

“He turned on us first.” Venetia calmly voices, never being one to stand down to you.

Felix nervously scratches his head, “Venetia-“

You shrug, “Someone must have set him up. Obviously he didn’t fucking do it.”

“What if he did?” She asks, not seeming to care how it makes you feel.

“He didn’t.” You sneer, her smoky fog filling your senses.

“Lena, how would you even know?” Felix quietly speaks up. “The two of you barely even speak-“

“Fuck you, Felix.” You directly your wrath at him, “Both of you know Farleigh. He hasn’t done anything like this before, why the fuck would he start now?”

“We had an argument…a few days ago.”

“Jesus Christ.” You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’m just saying it might have been a trigger-“

“A trigger? What, is he a fucking mental patient. You argue all the time that doesn’t make him a thief.”

“Lena - If you’re so fucking sure - Please do tell us who would set Farleigh up, of all people.”

You tilt your head slightly, desperately wondering what she implies by of all people. Nevertheless, now is as good of a time as any to voice your theory.

“…I saw Oliver near his bedroom last night.”

The both of them immediately sigh, Venetia taking another puff as Felix rubs his temples.

“Great, Farleigh’s got you believing that rubbish.” He groans.

“It’s not rubbish, Felix. It’s the only way someone could’ve sent it through his phone.”

“Lena, Farleigh’s been jealous of Ollie ever since he met him. It’s fucking delusional for Christ sake.”

“You’ve known him for- What? Three, four months? And you’re 100% confident he wouldn’t lie? Maybe he’s the jealous one Felix, he’s clearly obsessed with you.”

“What on earth would he have to lie for?” Venetia slurs, almost in her own world.

“Maybe for what Farleigh pulled last night, I don’t fucking know.”

“Lena, just stop.” Felix raises his voice. “This…hate is so one sided it’s honestly pitiful.”

Your mouth hangs slightly open as it hits you that they truly have no intent of hearing you or your brother out. They’ve already made up their minds.

“…We’ve known you our entire lives, Felix. Our whole lives.” Your voice quivers, “Sweet baby Oliver’s been here a few months and already taken our place, yet we’re delusional.”

A thin stream of water lines your eye, Felix seems to notice.

He stands, his voice softening as he nears you with consoling arms. “No, Lena don’t-“

“Believe whatever the fuck you want.” You push him away, storming out.

📍SALTBURN | October 5th, 2006

“And you’ll cling on to it, and comb over it and jerk off to it.” Farleigh towers over Oliver, leaning down to be eye to eye. “And wonder how you’ll ever get it back. But you don’t get it back, because your summer’s over.”

Oliver only stares with fire in his moonlit pupils before shifting them to you. This was the Oliver you saw shatter the mirror. This was the Oliver that Farleigh sniffed out since the moment they met.

“Has he gotten to you too, Lena?” He asks in that same frantically-trying-to-stay-composed tone that he had the night of ‘Rent’.

“Here you go, spinning your web again-“

“Fuck you.” He scolds your brother, eyes treading on you.

“…She just sees what I always have. A fucking rat - burying his way in our family and chewing us out from the inside.” Farleigh says, his tone grave.

You lean on the stand, snorting a small pile of white dust off of your pinky. “Just go home, Ollie. Make our lives easier, yea?”

📍SALTBURN | October 6th, 2006

Your knuckles are coated with tears and your hand stays tightly over your lips. Farleigh and Venetia let out silent sobs on the grass, the minotaur seeming to laugh as he’d seen it all happen. Your bones shake in your legs, but they can’t seem to buckle. The harder you cry the more you struggle to want to breathe again.

James joins his still son on the ground, asking him to stand. The angel only lays there, a renaissance-esque feel to the image.

“J- James we-“

“…I think…I think the police.” Farleigh suggests, hardly intelligible.

Elsbeth agrees, calmly walking off from the scene. Each grassy footstep seems to push the world around you further and further away. Now, it seems to be only you, Felix, and the minotaur. The three of you staring at the results of spotting a moth far too late.

…

“What the fuck are you still doing here?” Farleigh’s shaking voice pierced the tension filled silence. “Does no one else find it weird?”

“I wouldn’t throw stones if I was you, Farleigh…” Oliver’s eyes cut through him.

“…Excuse me?”

“Please stop.” Venetia sniffles.

Your eyes press shut, preparing for what the two plan to blow up over now. “Farleigh…”

“What is he saying?”

“I…I have no idea.”

“What I’m saying is I would feel guilty, too.” Oliver speaks, now with an unforgiving spite in his voice that the Catton’s seem to miss.

“Guilty?”

“Oliver, it is not the time-“

“You as well, Lena.” He says, your fingertips beginning to feel clammy. “I’d feel terrible if I was the one racking up lines the night someone died.”

The tears seem to be sucked out of your eyes only to fill up again with brutal force. They shift to your brother, his mouth agape.

“F- Fuck you.”

“That’s not a denial.”

The Catton’s look at the two of you like imposters. A wrinkle forms between your brows, looking back at them the same way.

For you can’t produce a near good enough reason for why your family, your blood, would use the words of someone like Oliver as fuel to burn someone like yourself. He’s an alien, a foreigner, a stranger.

“…Is that true?” James asks, seeming to jump at the opportunity to take his emotions out on anyone or anything. “Search their rooms.” He orders a footman.

Farleigh whimpers, “No.”

“He didn’t do anything!” You slightly raise your voice, slurring through the tears as you struggle to catch your breath. You turn your attention to Oliver. “Would you let us be for one fucking second?”

Venetia numbly over pours her drink, “Please, please stop.”

Oliver slyly looks around the table, “I just thought they should know.”

“S….Shut the fuck up.” Farleigh begs, barely audible.

“What’s happening?” Aunt Elsbeth asks, miserably confused at all of what she’s feeling.

“This fucking cockroach,” You stare daggers at Oliver, fury now replacing the previous timidness in your voice. “Has only lied, and deceived, and swindled his way through this house. He made us all believe him but- Oliver, I see through you.” You lean across the table, nearing him. “You’re an obsessed maniac who fed off of Felix until you consumed him.”

“Don’t you mention his name!” James frantically tries to keep his grief at bay.

Your brother’s chair scoots out with a terrible screech as he stands. His hand is sealed over his mouth as he rushes out of the room, giving in to defeat. You can only watch him go.

The silence after he closes the door behind him is enough to deafen the four of you. You scan the table, a blank expression contrasting your tear stained cheeks.

Your eyes rest on Oliver, though, you don’t plan to speak another word to him.

“When he devours you all…” A hushed voice comes out of you with a rasp as you target the family. “When he drives you to madness like he did your son.” Your head pivots behind you, landing on Duncan. “Do not say you weren’t warned.”