Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own it otherwise I wouldn't be writing fan fiction. Although, I'm sure if I ever manage to write a series I'll be putting stuff I took out of it on here. It would be quite fun, especially since I'd truly be able to say I actually own the characters and then fling that back into any lawyer's face.

Gumdrops Falling From a Cotton Candy Sky

By Aina Riddle

Chapter Two: A Glitter of Gold Amongst the Murky Depths of Reality

The night time air is strangely calm after working at the candy shop today. Customers had been coming nonstop all day and some of them had even gotten violent among each other and with us workers as well. The tear in my sleeve and my torn apron, which I'll have to sew all of it tonight, were because of a rather impatient man grabbing me and demanding I get him some chocolate. My boss had pulled me out of the frantic guy's grasp, tearing my clothes with the force, and threw him out as an example to everyone there. It calmed down enough after that, that there were no more fights.

I pause outside of the gates of the factory once again, absentmindedly fingering the torn apron caused by this man's contest, but I don't blame him. I don't think I ever could. My stay in front of the factory is much more short-lived than usual and I turn, exhausted, back towards my house and begin walking.

Soon enough it begins to snow and I clutch my coat closer to me, knowing that now I'll be sleeping with it on after I dry it. My small room has a bit of a whole in the roof above it, so I have to wear something more than pajamas to bed in order to stay warm. We had once had glass in that spot, but some kids had thrown rocks at it and we just don't have the money to replace it. Those had been some boys from my old high school (I had graduated last year, having helped pay for supplies by getting the job at the candy store, part-time then), and those boys always made fun of my fascination with Willy Wonka. The rocks had had Willy Wonka faces (or at least what people think he looks like) painted on them, and so I never complain because it's my fault that the window is broke.

"Chocolat! Oh darling we were so worried, come on, come on." I look up at my mom's voice and allow her to guide me into the house before I collapse on a chair. "Today must have been busy with those Golden Tickets going around."

"You wouldn't believe how bad it was mother!" I say, accepting the bowl of soup she had just reheated on the stove gratefully. "People who are of the nicest sorts usually were going crazy and fighting with the other customers. I just know it's going to get worse as the tickets are found and people begin to get desperate."

"Yes, but imagine how it would be to open a bar of chocolate and find a Golden Ticket inside!" Grandpa Joe says and I nod in agreement.

"That's true, I would love to find a Golden Ticket, but with how quick his chocolate is selling there won't be any left by the time my shift is over to buy one." I admit with a small sigh, thinking of finally meeting Willy Wonka but knowing it's not possible. "Plus, I don't have the money to waste on some chocolate no matter how much I want to, so it's impossible."

"That's not true, you have the same chance as everyone else to find a Golden Ticket and you get a chocolate bar for your birthday every year, and that's just next week." I smile at the encouraging words from my mother, but I don't get my hopes up.

"By the time next week comes all of the Golden Tickets will have been found, especially with how sales are going," I let out with a sigh. "I suppose I can just hope I'll get a tip or something, but that doesn't seem likely with how rude the customers are being to us. I had one grab me today and my boss tore me out of his grasp and threw the guy out. Speaking of which, I need to sew up my apron and shirt."

"Someone actually grabbed you?" I nod at my dad's question and he shakes his head in disbelief. "Maybe you shouldn't go back if it's a danger to you."

"No! I have to go back!" I try to express the urgency of my statement. I can't leave my only connection to Willy Wonka, I refuse to. "We need the money anyways."

"Alright darling, but you remember what I taught you if another guy grabs you tomorrow." Letting out a small laugh as my mom reminds me of her self-defense technique (kick him where it hurts and once he's down kick him there again for good measure before running), I stand to get ready for bed.

"I will. Now I'm going to get a bath and then sew up my clothes and then bed, because I'm just too tired to hear a story tonight. Plus, I just know I'll have to work open to close tomorrow too," I say, shedding my coat and placing it with the others as I walk toward our small bathroom.

"I'll sew up your clothes, you just get some sleep." My mom offers and I nod in thanks. "I'm sure you'll find a Golden Ticket, darling."

"Nonsense!" Comments Grandpa George, "The finders are going to be children who can afford buying loads of those bars every single day, and as our Chocolat here said, she doesn't have a chance. Mark my words," he adds, "The finder of the first Ticket is going to be as fat as a pig!"

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Grandpa George wasn't wrong. When I wake up in the morning there is already a broadcast about the first ticket being found. A fat boy from Dusseldorf, Germany stands in front of his mother with his bright blue eyes peering from his large face, orange hair atop it. His looks are obviously inherited from his mother, who announces that there was no way for her son not to find a Golden Ticket with how much chocolate he eats. The boy, Augustus Gloop, shows his ticket with an obvious bite mark in it and explains how he found it.

"Despicable!" Grandpa George spits out and I nod in silent agreement.

"What a pig!" Grandma Josephine adds.

"It doesn't surprise me, but I suppose with this find work is going to be even busier. I should get going." I try not to let my disappointment show as I say this. My once chance of meeting Mr. Wonka, which I hadn't even thought possible before, is slipping away before my very eyes and I can't do a thing about it. I walk out the door and begin my walk to work, mentally preparing myself on the way for the chaos.

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"Give me three Wonka bars!"

"I want two!"

"The second Golden Ticket has been found!" I pause at the last shout, as does everyone else, while the one who shouted it reads the article in the paper. "The second Golden Ticket was found by Veruca Salt, who lives in England with her rich parents. Mr. Salt had bought half a million Wonka bars when Veruca announced she wanted a Golden ticket and had the girls shelling nuts for his nut business instead shell the wrappers from the candy bars. It was only a matter of time before Veruca received a ticket."

"Well, that's not very fair; she didn't even find it on her own!" I shout, angry that such a spoiled brat had gotten the ticket just because her dad is rich. Many customers around me agree, but soon enough people start buying candy with even more vigor and I get back to work. I don't regret my outburst, but I know I'm just upset because there really seems no chance that anyone who can't afford to buy a lot of chocolate will actually win a ticket.

"Chocolat, get more Wonka bars from the back!" Handing someone their change, I run to the back and grab a box of bars, struggling to keep them in since it managed to get a hole in the truck. I don't even have time to get the bars to the shelf as I'm pushed aside and the customers begin grabbing. I feel my side hit the corner of the counter and I groan in pain, but I ignore it as Carol shouts for help at the register. I hurry over and begin to help, knowing that the ache in my side means I'll have a large bruise soon enough.

I don't even pause in front of the factory gates on my way home; instead I just glance at it and freeze when I see a figure in a lit window. It's blurry and I know I'll never get anything better since I don't have any chance of getting a ticket, but the sight cheers me up just a bit. A small smile comes to my face as I continue walking, holding my aching side and wondering if I maybe cracked a rib. Carol had bandaged it up, ranting about inconsiderate customers and how we should sue whoever did it, but we really have no clue who did do it, so her rants had no real purpose other than getting rid of her frustration.

"I'm home!" I shout as I walk in and they all greet me. "I'm not really up to eating anything tonight mom, I'm too tired." I go to take a nice hot bath; well as hot as I can get it, and then fall asleep the second my head hits the pillow, exhausted from work today. I'm just so glad I don't have to work tomorrow and be reminded that I'll never get a Golden Ticket.

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"Chocolat! Get up, Chocolat! We need you at the shop today! You'll get paid overtime!" I blink open my eyes at the shout and look through the hole in the roof of my room to see Carol, all bundled up and shouting through cupped hands. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I let her words register and get up with a groan at my aching body. We need the money and overtime gives me a chance to buy a Wonka Bar when I get paid tomorrow.

"I'm coming!" I shout back and I quickly get dressed, hugging everyone on my way out and accepting the small apple from my mom gratefully. "Let's get going, Carol." We head off as the snow begins to fall.

"How are you doing, Chocolat? I know with your fascination with Wonka and not being able to buy any chocolate until we're closed, when none is left, that this Golden Ticket thing must be killing you." She pauses, biting her lip in thought before she continues. "I can see how much you want to get a ticket…and you don't even want it for the candy or prize, do you?" I look up at the factory when we pass it before answering Carol.

"No, I just want to meet him… Seeing him and the inside of his factory would be the best things I could ever get." I stop talking as we reach the store, customers already gathered around outside. "It's a good thing a late shipment arrived last night and we were able to stock the shelves then. Anyways, can you believe I haven't written anything in my notebook since this all started? I just can't concentrate with everything going on."

"Wow, that bad, huh?" I nod in agreement as we both slip on our aprons and our boss unlocks the door before jumping out of the way of the stampede of customers. I'm always writing in my notebook and almost every part of it is covered with my messy script, so by not writing it's obvious how much not being able to find a ticket is affecting me.

The day passes quickly and when I arrive home after once again seeing that figure in the factory window, I find my smile from that gone when I see my family gathered around the T.V. The broadcast is about two more tickets being found.

One of the kids is a girl named Violet Beauregard who is shown fighting with her karate instructors, a blackbelt wrapped securely around her waist. Her hair is short and blonde and she has dark blue eyes just like her mother, whom she looks like a copy of. She smacks her gum with an annoying sound as she brags about being a winner and that there is no doubt that she'll win that ticket, her mother encouraging her.

"What a horrible girl!" I hear someone shout and I nod my head before remembering that no one knows I'm home.

The second kid is a young boy named Mike Teavee playing some violent video games. He has spiky, dark brown hair and his brown eyes are focused intently on the screen as he explains how he found the Golden Ticket. He mentions something about a code system that he says any retard could figure out and simply states that he only had to buy one chocolate bar. I walk over and turn off the television, frustrated that a boy who hates chocolate just made it into the world's largest chocolate factory.

"Sorry, it was just making me a bit mad that so far all of the winners are so rude," I say, apologizing to my shocked family. I know I'm being a bit more outgoing with my feelings than usual, but this thing is frustrating me. My dream is going away with every ticket found and it causes a deep void to fill my heart at every announcement.

"Um, I'm getting paid overtime for working today, so tomorrow, after I get paid, we can have a nice dinner." I say in the silence and Grandma Georgina breaks it with a shout of 'Hooray!' I laugh at that and we all settle down for some soup and listen to another story about Willy Wonka. I may not want to hear about the Golden Tickets, but I can always listen to a story about Mr. Wonka. After Grandpa Joe's story, I get up to get ready for bed, secretly grabbing some ice for my bruised and swollen side, which I still haven't told my parents about. We can't afford a hospital bill in order to get it checked out, so they don't need to know.

"Chocolat?" I pause at my mom's voice and I look over at them to see my parents smiling and holding something behind their backs.

"We were wondering if perhaps you want your birthday present early?" I grin at my dad's words and run over to them, giving them each a hug when they reveal the wrapped gift. I tear the gift wrap eagerly and reach for the opening of the wrapper of the candy bar as my mom cautions me.

"Now, don't be too disappointed if it happens to, you know…" She trails off, but I understand her meaning and give her a nod. Even having a chance and not finding it is okay, because at least I got a chance. I slowly peel the wrapper, but nothing is revealed except the chocolate and with a small, slightly sad smile I pass out the candy to everyone despite their protests.

"It's my candy bar and I can do what I want with it," I argue and they stop protesting as we enjoy our chocolate. I go to bed with a lighter heart despite not finding the Golden Ticket and I fall asleep watching the factory.

The morning brings a clear day with the sun reflecting brightly off of the snow, and with a smile and a yawn I begin getting ready for work. My good mood vanishes when I hear the announcement about a Russian boy finding the last Golden Ticket and I feel that void in my heart come back full force. My dream of ever meeting Willy Wonka is gone just like that; I clutch my hand to my aching chest before exiting the house quickly so I can get away from the news.

I walk to work in a daze and when I get there for once there isn't a line of customers waiting for us to open. The reality hits me once more and I swallow the lump in my throat as I walk in and we open. Business is like what it was before the contest and for the first time in the past couple of days I get a break, which I gladly take in the back room to get away from the gossiping customers. I notice a Wonka Bar on the ground as I sit in a corner and I crawl over to grab it from under the shelf, ignoring the aching pain in my side. I must have dropped this the other day when I was carrying that busted box.

"Carol! Can you ring me up for this?" I shout, walking out from the back and showing her the candy bar. "I found it under the shelf and realized I must've dropped it the other day when I brought out that box. I'm not just going to let it go to waste…" With a small laugh, Carol gladly rings me up half-price because it was under a shelf and I begin walking to the back as I unwrap it.

"Can you believe the nerve of some people, faking a Golden Ticket?" I hear a customer say, and I realize that the glitter of gold under the foil isn't a figment of my imagination. With shaking hands I slip the Golden Ticket out from under the wrapper and the candy bar falls out of my hands.

"Chocolat?" Carol asks when she sees my frozen form and the chocolate bar on the floor. I turn around, the ticket held in front of me, and she gasps in surprise. "Oh my god… You found the last Golden Ticket!"

"I-I…wow…" I manage out, my eyes wide as I stare at the ticket in my hands. "I need to get home, tell my parents…"

"Well, hurry, before a mob forms," My boss shouts and I rush to comply, quickly gathering all of my stuff and running out the door. Shouts rise up behind me about the last ticket really being found, but I ignore them as I run past the factory with just a glance and grin towards it. My side is aching by the time I reach my house and I'm numb since I didn't bother to actually put my coat on, but I run in and let out an excited shout.

"I found the last Golden Ticket! I'm going to meet Willy Wonka!" My grin never fades as I pass the ticket to everyone for them to see and Grandpa Joe amazingly jumps out of bed and does a little jig. I give him a hug, just because I'm in a happy mood, and we read the ticket, realizing that the event takes place tomorrow. "It says I can take someone to watch over me…"

"You're not a child anymore; you can go alone if you want to Chocolat." I smile at Grandpas Joe's words as he sits back down on the bed, not yet ready to walk very much. "I would love to go, but I don't think I'm up for it."

"That's true Grandpa Joe, and I would definitely take you if you were feeling just a bit better." I pause, looking around at my family before biting my bottom lip in nervousness. "I know I'm old enough to go alone, but I think I want to take you with me, mum." My mom is surprised at the announcement, but she quickly pulls me into a hug, which I return. "Now, let's go shopping for some food for a celebration dinner before we're bombarded by reporters. I got paid today so we have the money for it."

As soon as we get home with the groceries we find ourselves surrounded by reporters and I sit down on the bed in-between my grandparents as they ask their questions.

"What's your name? How did you find the ticket?" Is the first question asked that I can hear and I answer it easily enough.

"My name is Chocolat Bucket. I work at a candy shop and I found a candy bar that had fallen from a box a couple days ago. It had gotten a hole in it while in the truck; the box did, so I wasn't able to keep all of it from falling out." I pause, nervously tugging on my hair as I look around. "I found it this morning while on my break and bought it since it was in a wrapper and still perfectly good. Plus, I didn't want it to go to waste. I opened it and couldn't believe that the gold I was seeing was real until I overheard a customer saying that that other one was a fake."

"You work in a candy store? So how many bars did you open?"

"We're only allowed to buy candy when we're not working, which means on our breaks or when we close. We were always out of chocolate by the time we closed and during the whole contest we were too busy to get any breaks." I absently rub my side, the ache that's still there a reminder of how busy the store was. "I opened one bar of chocolate last night as an early birthday gift and then the bar this morning."

"How old are you? Are you young enough for this contest?" A voice shouts, but I can't find the speaker in the crowd.

"I'm nineteen and I'll be twenty in three days, but since I'm still below twenty for the contest part I'm eligible. Do I really look that old to you?" A reporter laughs, shaking his head in amusement and in answer to my question.

"How do you feel about going in the factory? Do you think your name was a premonition of this happening?" I laugh slightly at that and pull my mom beside me.

"I can't wait to go inside the factory…I can't wait to see Mr. Wonka's creativity at work and to finally meet him…" I pause to enjoy being able to say that. This all still seems like a dream. "My name is because of my mom's craving for chocolate when she was pregnant with me, not because of some premonition."

"Are the rumors true about you being obsessed with Willy Wonka?" My eyes lock on the haughty looking reporter who reminds me of a girl from my class, but then again she just might actually be that girl.

"I'm not obsessed, I just find him fascinating and now we really need to start ending this interview. Big day tomorrow, for all of us." The questions wind down after that and after posing for a family picture for the paper, ticket held in front of me, we begin making a fantastic dinner with desert being the winning candy bar I had grabbed before leaving work today.