“…can you do that for me Charlie?’

“Yes, Miss Alyssa, I will.” Charlie spoke into the phone, nodding eagerly although he couldn’t be seen. “But why did you quit? Are you going to –”

“I’m not coming back there, Charlie,” she replied in a quiet, apologetic tone – she could already tell by the brightness in his voice that he’d expected it. “But I’m doing the right thing. I just need to be alone for a while, to take care of things. I don’t know how exactly I’m going to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Don’t worry your little head over it,” Alyssa laughed quietly. “Just know that I’m not going to let anything ruin Willy. I’d never want that to happen.”

And the line went silent.

Charlie immediately sprinted clear on to the Chocolate Room to tell Willy what he’d learned, and for the first time in weeks, Wonka showed some bit of reactive emotion, but it fizzled out all too quickly. True, Alyssa had left the shop for one reason or another, but because she was not there at the factory gates telling him herself, Willy was quite sure that the reason was not him. He perhaps intentionally banished from his mind that Alyssa had in fact tried to speak with him.

“It’s incredibly kind of her to think of us,” Willy said, clucking his tongue and grinning, though there was a vague sort of melancholy lacing his voice that only one who knew him well would be able to detect. “But there’s not a great deal she can do. Her business – or her lack thereof – is none of mine.”

“But Mister Wonka –”

“Charlie, my dear boy,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Why don’t you run along now? I’m thinking of something very important.” Willy noted Charlie’s grin and knew right away that the boy had assumed he’d meant he was thinking of Alyssa – and indeed he was, but he chided himself for doing so. “I don’t for the life of me know what I’m wearing to the Gala, and I only have two days to go.”

Two days, Willy thought, until it was confirmed that he’d indeed lost the beautiful, stable, surreal world he’d created. Wonka Chocolates as he knew it was finished – because though it would never cease to bring him the same joy as it always had, it had been forsaken by the children he’d been so apt to please with his work. He’d already known this was the case when Alyssa had decided to go along with her friend instead of him, this Gala was merely a technicality. He had grown to accept her into his world, to trust her, because she had remained loyal to him for so many years, even from a distance. Yet now, even that loyalty...

Defeated or not, however, Willy Wonka would not allow it to be thought of him that he was unable to take it in stride. His pride would not allow him to fade into reclusion a second and final time without at least one more moment of glory. Hope for Alyssa’s return, for Calloway’s downfall, for keeping the love and admiration he’d worked so much to earn from the world outside – all was a bit futile, and while it pained him to see it all collapsing, he reminded himself that he would never be alone. He would have the Oompa Loompas, he would have the Buckets, and he would have his chocolates. What more could he have desired to begin with?

Kellie was in her room, playing tea party with her dolls. She was alone, in the manner to which she was accustomed– her sister was off doing whatever old children did, her father was working, and her mother was off on yet another spa day with her college friends. Perhaps this was the reason Kellie got on with Alyssa so well, because Kellie was going through very much the same thing, being from a wealthy family that rarely consolidated in a single room for more than five minutes.

Today, however, was very different. As she was busy pouring her favorite stuffed rabbit, Snuffles, a cup of invisible tea. The doorbell downstairs rang. Surprised, Kellie dropped her plastic tea kettle and ran to the hallway, sliding down the banister and landing quite well-balanced in front of the door. She pushed an armchair up to the door to reach the peephole, and she gave a tiny gasp when she saw a blonde-haired boy standing outside.

Charlie Bucket had received that phonecall from Alyssa earlier that day, asking him to go check up on the little girl, and being that Charlie was indeed very fond of Alyssa and thought her to be very nice, regardless of everything, he obliged. He wasn’t aware that the phonecall to him had been the last anyone had really heard from Alyssa in days.

Though Charlie hardly knew Kellie, a little girl three years younger than himself, he didn’t feel any personal objection to being friends with her, because she, like he had been, was kind, trusting, but alienated. Charlie grinned as he greeted the little girl when she opened the door, and he gave a slight laugh, noticing that her cheeks went a bit pink when she saw him.

“Hi, Mister Charlie,” Kellie said, standing in the doorway and digging her toe timidly into the ground. Charlie had expected her to ask where he’d found out where she lived, but Kellie was never one to question where pleasant surprises came from.

“Just Charlie,” he laughed, stepping inside the large, decorous home and giving a small whistle – he’d never seen a normal house quite like this, with so many windows, and so many rooms. “I just came to see if you were feeling better.” Kellie nodded, and gestured for Charlie to follow her back to the playroom, excited for someone to actually play with.

Charlie rolled his eyes good-naturedly, closed the door, and followed Kellie upstairs. When he reached the playroom, he grinned at what he saw. Placed around the tea table was a pretty brown haired porcelain doll in a white dress, seated at the table next to a stuffed teddybear draped in a purple blanket, with a green bow tied around his neck and a plastic orange cup perched on his head.

“That’s Miss Lyssa and Mister Wonka,” Kellie explained, sitting on a cushion while Charlie sat next to her, allowing her to pour him a cup of imaginary tea. Charlie felt an even stronger connection to the girl now that he realized that she wanted very much the same thing as he did: to make things better between Willy and Alyssa. “Miss Lyssa won’t go back to see you, but I don’t know why,” Kellie said sadly, resting an elbow on the table. “I don’t know whatsa matter, she’s always sad,”

“So’s Mister Wonka, I think,” Charlie nodded, though it was much harder to tell with Willy Wonka, because he covered it so artfully with humor and wit, but it was still there. “He’s always tired, and quiet.”

“They love each other, huh?” Kellie asked quite plainly, picking up a teacup and lifting it to the doll's lips with a small sigh. “I can tell they do –”

“Who loves each other?” came a voice in the doorway, and Kellie nearly screamed when she saw a figure in the doorway. Charlie immediately felt incredibly guilty, because he realized he had left the door unlocked – and now, the two children were met with the pearly, pasted on perma-grin of Cullen Calloway. “Oh, and Charlie Bucket!” he said with an exaggerated, open-armed gesture, then reached into his coat pocket. “Always a pleasure. Here –”

“No thanks,” Charlie snapped, instinctively taking a very protective stance in front of Kellie while Cullen returned the proffered Calloway Bar to his pocket. “I’m not hungry – and you shouldn’t be here.”

“Has Miss Cabot come to visit you lately?” he asked, completely ignoring Charlie’s suspicion as though he owned this house and had every right to be in it.

“No.” Kellie said, her normally angelic face going sour. “She’s busy. Too busy for you, you stinky –”

“Busy doing what?” Cullen snapped, but Kellie merely pursed her lips, her eyes narrowed angrily. She shook her head and crossed her arms, refusing to speak a word to him. His face distorted, and he raised a hand abruptly. “Tell me where she’s been, you little –”

“Charlie!” Kellie screamed, seeing Cullen’s raised hand and grabbing onto the boy, clinging for dear life. Charlie placed an arm around her, and Cullen quickly lowered his hand, placing it behind his back.

“Leave, Mr. Calloway,” Charlie said, his voice sounding much older and more mature than the tone in which he was accustomed to speaking. He felt terribly responsible for this, but at the same time, he was only glad that he’d been there at all. “Or I’m going to call the police.”

“Give my regards to William, boy,” Cullen said with a condescending half-bow as he backed out of the room – it was clear that he would get no answers here, but he didn’t look at all worried – Cullen Calloway was a master of timing, and of disappearing without a trace whenever he so chose. “He’s such a good sport.”

And then he was gone, leaving Charlie and a very shaken Kellie in the playroom. Neither of the children was quite sure who to tell, but one thing was certain. Both hoped very much that Alyssa found whatever she was looking for, and that she’d find it before Cullen found her.

Cullen Calloway, however, had no intention of physically hurting anyone – far too messy, he reasoned. As he stepped back into his car and made the drive back to his flat. He did, however, want very much to speak to Miss Cabot to clear this mess up.

He had no attention of allowing Alyssa to walk away from their business arrangement so easily, and he was sure that she could be convinced to walk right back – her little fantasies about her dream shop were all well and good, but she would soon realize that these juvenile fancies didn’t make a full stomach.

Cullen paced around his bedroom, pulling open the door to his large closet to admire his reflection in the mirror. He flashed a photo-ready smile, slicking back his hair – he never doubted for an instant that he could win over anyone wanted, professionally or romantically, and Alyssa Cabot was no exception. He’d read all the stories about himself in the tabloids, and unlike most other bits he read in those filthy publications, everything about him was true. He was a prick, a black sheep, and philanderer, but with his nigh endless supply of wealth, he felt no remorse for any of it.

He quickly went to the entire wall of stuffy, monochromatic business suits and ties in his closet – he had to look his best, he decided, at the Candymakers’ Gala, where he would finally squash Willy Wonka and rise supremely above his once formidable competitor, once and for all. He’d succeeded in doing the impossible, and if Arthur Slugworth could see him now, the old man would be squirming in his breeches, seething with jealousy.

All Cullen lacked in his conquest now was Alyssa Cabot – he’d wanted to have the beautiful woman on his arm at the Gala to make his ascension over Wonka complete, but no matter. If she refused to show her face again, it was just as well. It didn’t make his victory over Wonka any less sweet.

A/N’s

Ugh, I actually didn’t like writing this chapter, and I was very close to cutting it out, but I wanted to make sure I got this particular scene in, because it’s going to be somewhat important in the very end, which I already have part-written. I’ve also been putting a lot o thought into what my next project is going to be, and I’m thinking about hopping into a different genre for it. But again, that’s an issue for later.

Lamminator, I’m glad you decided to drop me a review! Hee! I’m trying to update at more frequent intervals lately, because I have more time to write now that my school semester is finally winding down. Yva J. , I agree – it’s high time Willy and Alyssa made amends. Alyssa’s finally through with her self-loathing and guilt bit for the most part, and Willy’s dropped the anger but is still maintaining distance. I’ve always loved the way he maintained such composure and restraint, but I think I like analyzing his character by writing what happens when he restrains his emotions more than he ought to. iCraft, Yay! I love it when people appreciate the literary references, they’re just so Willy-esque. I’m sorry for the lack of fluffy clouds in this chapter yet again, but the way I see it, I’m saving them up for the right moment. Hee!

Don’t forget – reviews are always appreciated. They’re what I live for, m’dears. Cheers!