Veruca was quite certain, that aside from just the memory of 'how he lost his virginity', that Charlie had forgotten her. Well, not 'forgotten', but more 'moved on'. Of course he had moved on, everyone moved on for the most part, but they still had those few that they would drop anyone they were currently seeing for, and go with them instead. That was who Charlie was to Veruca. Once she and the other three had entered the factory and had gotten settled in, Veruca questioned herself on if she should speak to Charlie or not. However, before she got-up the gumption to set foot to his little house in the Chocolate Room, (as that was where she assumed he stayed, unknowing to the fact that he had his own wing of the factory), Charlie came to see her.

How he managed to get there before Wonka was due to the fact that Wonka seemed to have disappeared somewhere between the greeting and the partial tour. There were so many rooms in the factory, that Charlie had learned it was pretty useless to search for a man who just vanished and therefore was probably hiding in a room that he would never find. He was quite glad to have that time alone, though, as he wished to visit Veruca for reasons other than delivering the poem he had no plan of giving to her.

"Of all the things in the world, it was the Golden Ticket that brought you the most happiness. Your father never liked Wonka, but he was your idol. But liking him or not, your father still respected him as an entrepreneur…." Charlie leaned against the door –jam of her room, just smiling at her.

"Charlie!" She stood-up from where she had been sitting and trying-out the make-up at her vanity table, and walked over to him.

"…The other children got harsh punishments that nearly killed them, but you just got a trip down a slide. But you never did get that squirrel"

"And you won the factory, which was all fair, as I already had one of my own, and you really needed a decent place to live. But I still wanted that glass elevator."

Charlie grinned, "Everyone does. It goes places one can't even begin to fathom. If there's one thing I've learned after living with Willy Wonka for seven years; it's to never doubt anything, even what seems beyond impossible."

"I sometimes don't think he's even human. He hasn't changed one bit. My father maintains that he must be older than he appears."

"The factory opened twenty-two years ago. And Grandpa Joe knew him back when he started his business twenty-seven years ago. He doesn't look any older than mid-thirties, but he must at least be in his late forties, early fifties by now."

Veruca had known Wonka's factory to be open for quite some while, but she figured perhaps it had been a business handed down from his father or whatnot. She never knew that he had done it all himself; just expanded upon it, "You mean this is all his?"

Charlie nodded, "No one else but him. His father is a dentist. I think he takes Wonka-Vite to remain young. One dose, and it makes you twenty years younger."

Veruca's eyes widened, "He created an age reversal

elixir? Why hasn't he marketed it? No one has ever created such a thing before, and immortality is what most people strive for!"

"I really don't know. I guess there's something not right about it yet. I've never met such a perfectionist in my life," he dug his hands in the pockets of his dark blue blazer and leaned back against the wall. His fingers wrapped around the poem, and then he quickly drew his hand away, as if it the paper had been on fire to the touch.

Veruca walked over to where Charlie was, and placed her delicate hand upon his arm, "Then you have never seen me at work. I am far too demanding. You know, Charlie, I am happy to see you again, and actually rather surprised that you remember me."

"How would I forget?" he asked, almost placing his hand on hers', but then decided against it for no other reason than imagining what Wonka's reaction would be. He tended to exagerate upon everything to such extent, that if Charlie as much as touched her hand, Wonka would take it as him being in love with her; rather than just being friendly with someone from his childhood.

"People tend to forget things a lot, especially like that," she stepped away and sat back down at her vanity table, "We should do tea tomorrow."

He smiled and ran his fingers through his hair, "Yeah. Tea sounds great. So, here, tomorrow at four?"

Veruca nodded, "I'll be waiting."

As he was making his way back to his wing of the factory, Charlie nearly collided with a girl. No, it was not Violet or Veruca, (as one would assume, seeing how they were the only two girls that were supposed to be there), but instead someone else of around the same age, who seemed rather ragged in appearance. Although dressed in less than stately clothing, she was still of an exquisite beauty, looking to be perhaps part Japanese, judging by the silky black of her hair, and almond shaped eyes of a pale mint green.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but I do not think you are supposed to be here," Charlie muttered, stepping back from the young woman, "Unless you are one on Mr.Wonka's new workers, which I highly doubt."

"Oh no, I am not supposed to be here. I am an orphan, and I was very cold, so I came to the factory because I know you have food, and I am quite hungry. A little man, too small to be a midget, let me in."

Charlie scowled, "That would be an Oompa Loompa. I fear they've been rather disagreeable as of late. You can stay the night, and perhaps be set to work in the morning. That seems fair."

She threw her arms around Charlie, "Oh thank you, Mr…"

Charlie stepped away in a bit of disgust, as she was in dyer need of a bath, "Bucket. Mr.Bucket."

She giggled, "Well, Mr.Bucket, is there a first name with that?"

"Nope!" It seemed he had been hanging around Wonka for seven years too many.

"My name is Mayrie Susan Leigh. You can call me 'May' ," She grinned, "Thank you so much, Mr.Bucket, for letting me stay. You see, ever since my parents parished in a horrible fire when I was eight, I have lived in a horrible orphanage up the way where they made us work for hours on end with meager bits of food as payment. Our nights were freezing in the winter and burning in the summer. I came of age two weeks ago, and therefore was set-out on my own. I have lived on the streets since."

"I'm sorry. Aren't there shelters, or something, that could have helped you, though?" Charlie asked as he sorted through the large key ring in order find the key to the room she was to sleep in. He had decided to give her a very plain white room used for storage, with a blanket, cot, and pillow; as he was not sure if she had lice, and did not want to hear it if bugs were found crawling around one of Wonka's precious beds.

"Not that I know of," she drew a deep breath, examining Charlie closely from her little spot leaning against the wall, trying to figure out what he was doing with those keys, "I remember you. I was actually waiting in line right behind you at the drug store the day that you found the Golden Ticket. If I had just arrived a few second earlier, then the ticket would have been mine."

That caused Charlie to stop and think for a moment. What if this girl had gotten the ticket instead of him? Would she have won the factory? For some reason, he did not think that so. After all, Wonka had wished for a companion and brother to share the factory with. If Charlie had not been there, then surely he would have chosen Veruca, but he would have kept her as a bride as opposed to an heir. May was not the type that Wonka would go for; he needed someone who was delicate and demure. Someone who did not settle for second best. Not some rag muffin that he could never relate to. Charlie, like Wonka, was eager and honest. He was a good friend, (well, aside from how guilty he felt for not giving Veruca the poem). He finally found the correct key, and unlocked the door.

"Well, " he said, "This is where you will be staying."

May stepped into her room, and turned around to face him, "You know, I think I really should have won the ticket. I mean, yes, you were poor, but at least you have a family that loves you. If I had gotten the Golden Ticket instead of you, then Wona would have taken me under his wing like a daughter, and I would have a happy family at last."

"You really don't know Wonka," he said, shutting the door so that he would not have to put-up with her any more than he already had.