Despite the many awkward clashes between the two former Golden Ticket winners, Charlie did enjoy his dinner with Veruca, primarily because he finally had someone to spend time with outside the factory on non-work-related issues, yet the little brute had come up with a different description of her afternoon out, more specifically, a description of her inviter. It seemed that having money-cultured acquaintances had not refined Charlie, Veruca thought; even after all these years he still acted like the street urchin she had to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with while waiting for the clock to strike ten so that the lucky Golden Ticket winners could enter Willy Wonka's chocolate factory, for why else would he take her to a place where they would serve her a whole fish to eat? Perhaps her Daddy was right, perhaps people are born with a preordained position in life and they cannot alter that reality no matter how hard they tried, the brat pondered. Wonka was probably also part of the problem, she thought, Charlie the street urchin must have liked to eat this weird stuff in part because he spent so much time with the king of weird himself.
There was already so much the Good Boy was picking up from his mentor personality-wise that a penchant for bizarre foods didn't seem to be that far out of the realm of possibility. The two eventually finished their meals, one of them more satisfied with the dinner than the other, but luckily for the latter it was all over, and she could return home and serve herself some liquor in the largest glass she could find in hopes of forgetting this entire wasted afternoon. However, there was just one more thing Charlie wanted from their night out, a picture of the two of them together, fortunately, this was something Veruca saw as reasonable as she never shied away from a camera. The heir pulled out his phone and asked the person sitting at the table to the left of him if he could take their picture, something the other patron was more than glad to do. The other person told them to lean in closer so that their faces would both show up and he snapped the shot the second he got both of them on screen; Charlie had an awkward little grin on his face, which was quite the opposite compared to the bright-eyed, high-cheekbone-extenuating, defined chinned, large pearly-teethed smile Veruca put on in front of the camera.
It was a fake smile, of course, she even fluttered her eyes just like she did before Wonka broke the news to her that none of his squirrels were for sale, and just like the factory tour, once the shot was taken, her face quickly morphed back into its normal, stuck-up, couldn't-be-bothered-to-care state. Even though the image was for Charlie, someone whom she was barely tolerating up to that point, Veruca still felt a sense of pride whenever she took pictures of herself to post on social media, or even better, when someone else recognized her superior beauty and wanted a to take a picture of her. The only reason she agreed to take that picture was not to grant Charlie's wish for a token of their night out, it was all just an ego boost for her, a boost she desperately needed after such a grueling night. Since Charlie had invited her out for the night, he covered the costs of the meal, plus, there was no chance Veruca would have ever paid after seeing the meal that was served to her. Charlie gave a quick goodbye to Doña Rosita and Benito and Veruca lazily joined in, not even making eye contact or that much of an effort to even lift up her arm to properly wave goodbye, and after that, they found themselves back inside Charlie's car and on their way back to Veruca's penthouse. While the brat didn't speak on the drive home, Charlie was more or less content with the events that had transpired in the last couple of hours. Sure, there were moments he feared could have devolved into tantrums that could have rivaled the one that unfolded at Coûteux, but luckily the two of them had a quaint meal with only minimal conflict, well, minimal for Veruca's bratty standards.
They eventually arrived back at Stourton and Charlie not only opened the passenger seat door for Veruca, but he also walked her all the way to the door leading into the lobby of the apartment building. Surprisingly, there was no doorman outside waiting to open the glass barrier that separated them from the opulence inside, it was just the two of them, walking alone outside while the lights from the rest of the city illuminating their path. Charlie had gotten to connect with Veruca over the dinner like he'd hoped for, but like any junkie, now that it was all over, he wanted another hit, and with a bigger dosage the second time around. He didn't know why, but Charlie craved a deeper connection with Veruca, he craved a connection with all of the other Golden Ticket winners, but Veruca stood out in particular. Perhaps it was her presence in front of his own eyes, the fact that she was not on the other side of the world, but right in front of him that strengthened his desire to grow closer to the brat, but even then, he felt that answer was unsatisfactory. Even though it seemed he had only scratched the surface of Veruca's life, he already felt more sympathy for her than at any point before, not at Fenston's, not during the tour of the factory, not even when she was getting attacked by squirrels.
She might have been loud and demanding, but those qualities were what made Veruca Veruca, and even Charlie felt as if there was a weird charm about it. It was a complete one-eighty from where he stood on the Veruca question as a child, believing she was nothing more than a spoiled brat who didn't even deserve to find the Golden Ticket and instead needed to be disciplined; yet now as an adult he couldn't help but be mesmerized by her brazen displays of dominance. However, now that he thought about it that way, it made sort of sense, people see other things, and people, differently after they mature, what was once seen as repulsive becomes desired. The two of them had now reached the door leading into the lobby yet he didn't open the door for her, now that his dinner with Veruca had reached its end, Charlie wished he could keep it going at any cost. He gladly put the other Golden Ticket winners aside to focus solely on Veruca; the only other winner he had found yet, his only fellow Brit winner, his only hope at starting to organize a reunion for the winners, his only...
It was at that moment Charlie had finally summoned the courage to so something he had never done before, nor had he had the opportunity to do so in the entirety of his twenty-five years on Earth. Charlie nervously stared directly into Veruca's big blue eyes before shutting his own eyes and leaning in closer with his thin lips puckered; he had just crossed the point-of-no-return and he could not foresee a recovery if things went south. Deep down, Charlie knew he had wanted to do this for a long time, and now he'd get to experience what 14 years had built up to.
Unfortunately, Veruca didn't see it that way; before the Good Boy even reached the little brute's nose, she pushed her open palms up against his shoulder sockets, sending Charlie stumbling a few steps back as she screamed, "Stop! What are you doing?!"
The feeling of rejection was a terrible pain Charlie had come to know all too well, and even though he had just eaten he felt his stomach was as empty as when all he had to eat was a measly bowl of Cabbage Soup. The embarrassment this failed kiss caused made the Good Boy begin to hyperventilate, this impeded his ability to respond and now all he could do now was try and save face, and so he did as he nervously replied, "Um...yeah, what am I doing? I know, right? Hehe."
A Wonka-esque laugh did nothing to ease the tension between them, Veruca's death stare didn't subside with time, making Charlie's frantic breathing even deeper and more frequent. In addition, jittery body posture and excessive hand wringing began manifesting as Charlie refused to make eye contact with his fellow Golden Ticket winner, and because his anxiety prevented him from explaining what had happened to the little brute, the Good Boy just cowered and fled the scene, but not before bidding the target of his affection a final farewell, nervously telling her, "I'm so sorry, take care, Veruca."
Running away from an embarrassing situation was Charlie's preferred method of dealing with problems like these, and now his heart raced uncontrollably and stress sweat dripped out of every corner of his body as he ran back to his car in a fashion that resembled that of a suburban mom out for a jog with the other housewives. And while she could have let this awkward encounter slide and started the process of forgotten all about it by focusing her mind on the things she cared about, something inside Veruca couldn't have it end like so, leading her to bark out and ordering the heir, "Wait! Come back, we need to talk!"