Chapter 9 - Celebrity

The noise was deafening. Children screamed and shouted, adults chattered and hollered and almost everyone was waving a flag or holding a banner or placard.

The smell of popcorn, hot dogs and cotton candy was everywhere.

Isabelle pushed her way through the vast crowd with Charlie leaning into her side. It was still a chilly spring day and she pulled her red scarf tighter around her neck.

The brass-band was playing somewhere off to their left, but sometimes the trumpets sounded as if they were right next to her ear.

The milling crowd was held at bay by steel barriers and both crowd control bots and human attendants were diligently herding back anyone who managed to get too close to either the stage, or the factory gates.

Overnight, a giant plush red and gold carpet had appeared inside the factory grounds. It extended in a straight line, from the factory gates right up to the ornate front doors. The carpet even covered the wide front steps.

One section in front of the tall iron factory gates had been separated from the crowds to act as a stage to display the ticket winners and their families for all the world to see.

Isabelle eyed them nervously. She did not want to be filmed at all, who knew who was watching the feed. However, she would go through with anything as long as Charlie got his chance to meet his idol.

The journalists were swarming around all the winners, interviewing each one and leading them out onto the little stage. Veruca and Violet were already seated at opposite ends, together with their parents.

Large screens were set up all around the area so that everyone would have a chance to experience the excitement. Violet, dressed stylishly in navy and red, was currently the focus of the cameras; she was holding out a piece of gum and excitedly waving it around until her mother stepped into view, trying her very best to seduce the camera, at least, that's what it looked like to Isabelle.

At the other end of the podium, Veruca was doing the same thing with a simpering smile on her face. Her father sat silently next to his daughter. He was a shorter man, rather rotund with a balding head. Isabelle thought he looked rather irritated to be there.

Neither of the other ticket winners had arrived yet, their chairs remaining empty.

Isabelle knew that one of those seats was reserved for Charlie.

She had switched on the television early that morning as her and Charlie got themselves ready for the big day. The news had broken overnight that the winning ticket had been found by a local boy, further proof that the previous winner, the Dubai zillionaire, had been a fake. Not much else was known of the incident, as Bill had refused to say a word to anyone when he was questioned. The only thing he would confirm was that the discovered ticket was most definitely the real deal. He would say nothing else about the boy who won.

Isabelle had been relieved to know that the media only had three shaky video clips recorded onto phones as evidence of what had happened yesterday. As far as the world was concerned, no one knew who Charlie was. Or her for that matter.

Until now.

They were all eagerly waiting for the 'Cherry Street Miracle' to make his appearance.

Isabelle was nervous. The closer they got to the stage, the more her stomach knotted with anxiety. She had never been comfortable with crowds, and usually avoided them. Today though, she had to be strong for Charlie, who was currently trying to hide inside her coat. She glanced down and tugged on his blue beanie.

"Hey Charlie, you ok?" She questioned.

Charlie nodded and straightened up. "Are we going to have to sit up there in front of the cameras?" He questioned nervously.

"Yup, and you are going to be fantastic." Isabelle knelt on one knee and straightened the collar on Charlies threadbare grey coat.

As she smoothed out the shoulders, she looked him over and smiled. "You know I won't be allowed up there with you, don't you?" She reminded him. "I'm not your parent or legal guardian and both Mr and Mrs Wilkinson will have their hands full once everyone finds out who you are and where you live. They have the other children to protect from the media."

Charlie nodded reluctantly and tugged on her sleeve as she stood up.

"Everything happened so fast, I can't believe we're really here." Charlie was still excited about everything, despite his nerves.

"We really get to see Mr. Wonka soon."

"I know Charlie." Isabelle squeezed his arm as she stood up. "I wonder what he's really like."

They stood in silence for a while until Charlie turned to look up at her again.

"I forgot this was supposed to be a competition." Charlie admitted. "I just wanted to see inside the factory and meet Mr. Wonka. Is that bad? I really don't need a lifetime supply of chocolate."

Isabelle laughed at that. "Just remember as much as you can and tell me all about it afterwards. I want details kiddo. Are you ready to join the others?" She asked as she tugged on a stray lock of blond hair.

Charlie nodded and grinned. "Let's do this."

Hand in hand, they marched up to the stage.

Isabelle had been right in her prediction. The official who checked Charlies winning ticket would not allow her onto the stage with him. It was reserved for ticket winners and parents/legal guardians only and she was quickly pushed aside as Charlie was herded out onto the stage by a different overzealous attendant.

Isabelle remained in the backstage area, just by the entrance. Out of sight of everyone, but close enough to see and hear everything that was happening.

Charlie had been led out onto the little podium and immediately swarmed by journalists shouting thousands of questions at him. Drones lazily zoomed overhead and the thunderous flashing of a thousand cameras became a constant background buzz. Charlie felt completely overwhelmed until he remembered what Isabelle had told him to do.

Isabelle knew that Charlie would be a spectacle and had advised him earlier to sit himself in between Veruca and Violet, who were both expertly turning the spotlight onto themselves whenever they could.

Charlie remembered her advice and did just so.

'Oh, how I wish I could go into the factory with him!' Isabelle thought, 'but I am so glad I'm not sat on that stage with him.' She snickered to herself and glanced up at all the cameras that were pointed at the ticket winners and their parents.

Their every reaction was instantly broadcast to large screens that were scattered in various locations so that everyone, even those at the back, could see what was happening. Millions of people around the world were glued to their tv screens back home and avidly watching as well.

Isabelle refocused her mind and watched as Charlie managed to find the centre most seat between the two girls.

'Good,' she thought 'He will be shielded by the other contestants when they arrive.'

Veruca Salt was sat on Charlies left, next to her father. She could tell that Charlie was already tired of her whiny tirade and simpering attitude towards the cameras as she was showing off her new designer coat and hat.

When the journalist she had been chatting to turned her attention to Augustus, who was being prepped by an attendant to walk onto the stage, Veruca had pouted and demand that her dad 'make time go faster,' then had started taking selfies and recording herself with her own commentary.

'What a brat.' Thought Isabelle, as she shuffled to the side to allow Mrs Gloop to be guided up the steps into the waiting area behind her son. The poor woman was already huffing and puffing after climbing only a few steps. Isabelle felt a twinge of pity for her, before refocusing onto the stage.

Violet, who was sat to Charlie's right was busy bragging to a different journalist about her athletic achievements. Her mother often jumped into the conversation and talked over her daughter, bragging about raising such a high achieving star.

Isabelle noticed that whenever the cameras and journalists focused on her mother, Violet would slump into her seat and relax a little as she scrolled through her phone. Even her gum chewing seemed less intense when she wasn't directly in the spotlight.

When the journalist moved on, Isabelle watched Charlie lean over and catch Violets' eye with a smile and a thumbs up. Violet nodded back with a genuine smile, but her mother straightened up and glared at Charlie.

"Violet is going to be winning this little competition and getting all the sponsorship deals." She snarled at the surprised boy. "My Violet never loses." Then her face morphed into a beautifully faked smile and waved at the camera swinging back towards them.

Augustus Gloop and his mother were led onto the stage at that moment and seated themselves beside Charlie. Both boy and mother were elegantly dressed, Augustus was even wearing a decent suit with his hair neatly combed. He looked very different from the scruffy fat blob depicted on television.

Isabelle briefly wondered what her and Charlie must look like with their scruffy, second-hand clothes, but quickly shoved the feelings aside. They had nothing to prove to anyone and Charlie really didn't care anyway. He was just happy to be included.

She shuffled to the side to make room as more staff wandered around. The space where she was standing was getting cramped. She strained to hear what Augustus was saying to Charlie out on the stage.

"Vat's wrong with you? I vant zat chocolate!" He said loudly. "Ven I win I won't give you any." He ignored Charlie after that and continued munching his chocolate bar.

His mother smiled apologetically at Charlie and said in broken English. "Mein Schatz Augustus just loves his chocolate and never stops eating it. I hope he vin, so I don't have to keep buying it for him."

Isabelle wondered if Augustus had a medical condition that needed attention. She was sure she had heard of a condition where the poor child couldn't stop eating.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Mike, who shoved Augustus in the shoulder as he threw himself into the seat next to him.

"Shut up!" Mike sounded really angry. "Not everyone likes chocolate. It's stupid and tacky and makes you fat."

"Do you like chocolate?" Charlie leaned over and asked Mike.

"Nope." Mike cheerfully declared. Charlie looked puzzled.

"Then why did you look for the ticket?" Charlie asked.

"Cuz I could, duh!" Mike rolled his eyes at Charlie and became distracted by the journalist who came over to chat about the latest video games with him and to ask about his love of wearable technology.

Mike's father was standing silently next to Isabelle in the backstage area. He looked very stressed and anxious. His son Mike had shoved past everyone, even the attendants, and they were busy sorting themselves out.

Whilst he waited to be led onstage properly, he offered his hand to Isabelle, who shook it in surprise. Why was he talking to her?

"I saw you come in with your son earlier." Mr Teevee said in explanation. "I don't know why he's up there alone, but its none of my business."

Before Isabelle could explain, Mr Teevee continued "My Mike is so smart you know, smarter than I am. I worry about him sometimes. He never did learn to behave himself and he never listens to me." Mr Teevee didn't look very happy.

"He's so smart that he was offered a place at MIT, you know, that big technology focused university?" Mikes dad looked over fondly at his son, then back towards Isabelle. "He spends all his time on video games and movies and doesn't want to do anything else. I'm worried he is going to waste his life." He sighed again. "I can't make my own son take his gift seriously."

"What about his mom?" Isabelle asked curiously.

"Oh, she dotes on him of course," Mr. Teevee said. "My wife is so very proud of him and does everything for him just so that he has time to study and get smarter. She doesn't even make him stop his games to come and eat with us at the dinner table, she just leaves it in his room for him."

"Over here Mr Teevee." An attendant fawned over him as Isabelle faded back into the background. Her sudden encounter with Mr Teevee had unnerved her. She had already felt a little out of her depth and was now unsure what to think. She couldn't really find common ground with any of the ticket winners or their parents.

She felt exposed and vulnerable as journalists and attendants rushed here and there. She had been receiving veiled glares for a while now and she felt extremely uncomfortable. Her anxiety crawled back with a vengeance and she decided it was time to leave the backstage area.

Charlie would have to be fine without her from now on.

She deftly pushed her way along the barrier, searching for a good vantage point that would allow her to catch a final glimpse of Charlie before he disappeared into the factory.

She eyed the crowd that had the prime spots right next to the barricade leading to the factory gates and began mentally planning how to squeeze herself into one of those spots so she could wave to Charlie as he passed by.

As she wove through the crowd, she did a double take as she saw both Bill and Mr. Wilkinson.

They had somehow managed to grab a prime spot near to the factory gates. The winners would all pass through this section. Bill was animatedly waving at her, almost hopping from foot to foot as he punched Mr. Wilkinson lightly on the arm. Mr Wilkinson simply stood tall and graceful as usual. He tipped his bowler hat at Isabelle and smiled warmly as she wove through the crowd towards them.

"I didn't know you two knew each other." She commented as Bill spontaneously hugged her.

"Oh, Jeffy and I have been friends for years." Bill laughed as Mr. Wilkinson sniffed. "He married my oldest sister."

Isabelle stared questioningly as Mr Wilkinson sniffed. "Kindly desist calling me by that ridiculous name." Isabelle smothered a laugh. He reached out a hand and steadied her as someone stumbled into her. "Hold onto the railing my dear." He said and made room for her to stand with them.

"I will not be staying long; I must return to Dorothy before the media bashes down our front door later. I wished to show my support to you both."

"Thank you, both of you." Isabelle was grateful they were there. "Charlie will be thrilled to see you."

"Ha ha ha." Bill's excitement was contagious. "Kid's gonna have a grand time in there, that's for sure." He glanced down at Isabelle. "You should be up there with him. The world has broken if they won't let you inside with him."

"Don't spoil the day Bill." Isabelle lent over the barricade and tried to wave at Charlie. She wasn't sure if he had seen her move or not.

Bells suddenly began to chime and a hush fell over the crowd. The band fell silent as the people rushed the barricades to get a better view of the closed factory gates.

Every camera swivelled towards the factory. Isabelle glanced over at the stage, but she couldn't see past all the people crowding around her. Instead, she watched the giant screens and saw that all the contestants had stood up, ready to get going.

It was finally time for Willy Wonka to make his appearance.