Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory franchise or any characters associated with the franchise. All rights belong to Roald Dahl, Tim Burton, and Warner Bros. Pictures. This is not my intellectual property, and no financial gain is made from this nor will be sought. This is purely for entertainment purposes only.
Chapter 1 - An Unexpected Encounter
Author's note: Hello, everyone! I'm still working on Chapter 20 of my story, "Next in Line", and I'm taking the time to make it as good as it can possibly be. That's why it's taking so long. In the meantime, I thought I should write a short story about Charlie and Veruca, since they're essentially who I ship. (Then again, that was the motive behind my story "Where All the Bad Nuts Go".) Most of the story has already been written, so I'll be publishing chapters daily, maybe with a day or two in between chapters, but no longer than that. Without further ado, let's begin.
Note: this is NOT a sequel to "Where All the Bad Nuts Go". That story will be written later.
~Charlie's POV~
Two entire years have passed since my family called Willy Wonka's chocolate factory their home. To an outsider, I might have looked like an ordinary boy, but that couldn't have been any further from the truth. In reality, I was Mr. Wonka's apprentice and the heir of the factory. It took effort to convince him to allow my family to move in along with me, which included a somewhat awkward meeting with his dentist father, but now that we were all comfortably settled, I couldn't have been any happier. Recently, however, I began to feel a tad lonely, since I haven't been to a public school with people my age for over two years. Instead, my typical school courses, including math, science, and geography (to name a few), were taught by the Oompa Loompas.
I turned thirteen just over a month ago, and now that I was officially a teenager, I wanted more than ever to be friends with someone my own age. While I was not alone by any means, with Willy Wonka as my mentor, as well as my entire family and the Oompa Loompas to keep me company, I still wanted to at least get out and socialize with others, like nearly anyone else my age would.
Like Mr. Wonka, I rarely went out in public in order to avoid attracting unwanted attention. Even when I was dressed in a normal winter coat, or a T-shirt and jeans, the people who lived down the street from the factory were able to recognize me as Wonka's heir, and they always wanted to take their picture with me. Therefore, it wasn't often that I actually took the time to go outside and walk around the neighborhood. I decided that today would be one of those days. I needed some fresh, outdoor air, not the recycled, filtered air that circulated around the factory.
I decided to wear an olive-green winter jacket, light-brown jeans, and black boots. I left the factory through one of the inconspicuous side doors that were used as emergency exits, and I flinched as the chilly winter air hit my face like a ton of bricks. The wind was relatively calm, but it was cold enough to sting my eyes as I walked against the current. Tiny, white snowflakes were drifting in the air, similar to those at Fudge Mountain.
I turned to the left and strolled down the sidewalk that was directly in front of the factory, as I had done countless times during my childhood. I slowly tilted my head back, letting my eyes steadily travel up the gray courtyard wall, and they focused on the very top of one of the smokestacks, which was belching thick clouds of white smoke into the air. Of course, the one thing that was better than the sight of the building was the smell of what was being produced inside it. I took a deep, long breath with my eyes closed, letting the rich scent of melted chocolate fill my lungs, just like I had done countless times as a child.
"It's amazing, isn't it?" a female voice spoke nearby. I turned my head towards the source of the voice, and I noticed a girl standing near me, who seemed to be about my age. She was also looking up at the factory, breathing in the wonderful smell that pervaded the air for a mile in every direction. She had long, dark-brown hair that was softly blowing in the wind, bright-blue eyes, and a pale complexion. She wore a red winter jacket with a fur-lined hood, blue designer jeans, and black leather shoes.
"I remember standing in this very spot like it was yesterday, but I was a much different person than I am now," she continued, speaking with a posh, upper-class British accent. "I used to be given everything I could have possibly wanted, but my parents have become a lot stricter since then. I've grown to appreciate all the little things we have right now, and I learned to focus on the present instead of begging for the future."
"I remember standing in this very spot, too," I said, "and I remember you. I bet you don't remember me." The girl initially shook her head and blankly stared at me, but soon enough, a smile spread across her face once she realized who I was.
"You were the poor, scrawny kid who went along with us on the tour, right?" she asked. "Your grandpa worked here?" I grinned at her in response. "Charlie Bucket, is that really you?"
"Yes," I replied, "that would be me. Long time no see, Veruca. I'm glad to hear you've changed for the better. Shall we talk?"
Author's note: I want to thank Cyatts for coming up with the basic ideas and plot for the story. I hope you all enjoyed what I have written so far, and stay tuned for the next chapter! :)