From what he had seen all around her penthouse, Veruca's desire for everything she owned to proclaim elegance had not come to an end following her decent down the garbage chute, for her home was littered with ornate decorations and just as beautiful furniture. The Good Boy remembered the broken sofa in the living room, and while it looked nice beyond the damage requiring her to purchase a new one, it had a much more slim and modern look to it for Charlie to have called it ornate. The little brute appropriately blended the traditional interior decorative aesthetic that made up her opulent, upper-class childhood home with a modern touch so that she could better relate to and feel more comfortable in her personal realm. All of that stood in sharp contrast to Charlie who still lived in the rundown shack of his childhood and virtually all the fine items he owned had the additional caveat of being zany and eccentric since they came directly from the twisted mind of Willy Wonka. This interesting difference raised many thoughts inside Charlie's mind as he got back inside his car, but none more urgent than where Veruca wished to go shopping, he literally had no idea where he was taking her, and he had to find out where or they would be spending their evening just outside Stourton inside the heir's car.
So, as he turned on the ignition of his car, Charlie turned to face Veruca in order to uncover their destination, and asked, "So, tell me, Veruca, where is it we're headed?"
"There's a shop in Chelsea, Coûteux. We're going there," she responded, still refusing to make eye contact with her utmost generous driver, and instead choosing to continue examining the luxury vehicle's amenities. And, if the lack of politeness wasn't enough of a sign that the brat had not changed even after all these years, it seemed that her preference in furniture, and all her other goods in general, came from one of the most affluent districts in one of the wealthiest cities in the world. This little excursion was surely gearing up to be an interesting yet unsurprising look into the little brute's lifestyle.
Eventually, the little brute grew bored of examining Charlie's car and instead wanted to listen to music. She reached for the car stereo and flipped it on only to learn that stick-in-the-mud Charlie listened to an informal news radio show while driving, in which the host could be heard reporting, "Now in international news, President Crump of the United States received an unfavorable ruling in the United States District Court for the District of Columbia earlier this week ordering him to comply with subpoenas issued by the U.S. House of Representatives for his personal financial records. The President, as usual, vented to reporters on the White House lawn following the judge's ruling, ranting about how unfair the American judicial system was and how supposed actors lurking in the shadows and at the highest levels of the government were conspiring against him and what he proclaimed to be the 'most terrific administration in the history of this country.' The President has appealed the case to a higher court, but the case is expected to only be finally adjudicated after reaching and having a decision on the case dispensed by the U.S. Supreme Court."
As the news was always ripe for jokes and such material could ease the tensions in the car, Charlie tried his hand at humor, stating, "I once heard a joke that the Canadian Prime Minister, Tristan Goudeau, speaks the King's English while Crump speaks Queens Douchebag."
Charlie put on a smile while Veruca just stared at him, not adjusting her unimpressed expression at all, leading the driver to attempt and save the joke by explaining, "You get it? Because he is from Queens, New York."
Her sunglasses were the only thing keeping Charlie from seeing Veruca roll her eyes at his failed attempt to humor her, and instead, she chose to poke holes in the joke's premise, claiming, "We have a Queen, it should be 'the Queen's English.'"
"But then the joke wouldn't...no more humour, I guess," Charlie replied, giving up halfway through his counter-rebuttal, yet not surprised at all as he had never been good at charming others, especially women.
Not content with having to listen to the news during the car ride, Veruca began switching through radio stations until she found something that appealed to her, and she continued this until the speaker's began emitting a classic song.
It's gonna gonna gonna gonnaaa, It's gonna be me!
The hit song that was about five years younger than both of them, NSYNC's "It's Gonna Be Me," continued to play as Charlie got on the road and headed towards their destination.
All that I do...is not enough for you. I don't want to lose it, but I'm not like that. When finally, finally, you get to loooove. Guess what? Guess what? It's gonna be me.
With the chorus continuing, Charlie though Veruca might react to him putting himself in a less than desirable state, such as humiliation, so he laughed at himself as he pointed towards the car stereo controls, and said, "These lyrics, I mean, I feel a tad bit attacked."
Not even an indictment on himself was enough to turn Veruca's frown upside down, and with his guest choosing to focus on the road ahead, Charlie admitted defeat, whispering to himself, "Alright, not even self-deprecating humour will do. Got it."
Charlie reached a red light on the road and in order to pass time he listened along to the song. Meanwhile, Veruca noticed him tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, following along with the beat of music.
Every little thing I do...never seems enough for you. You don't want to lose it again, don't want to lose it, but I'm not like them. Baby, when you finallyyy get to love somebody. Guess what, guess what?
It's gonna be m...
The song got cut short after Veruca began fiddling with the car stereo once again, changing the station before the song could wrap up, thus depriving Charlie of some sort of escape from this uncomfortable situation for the rest of the drive. While the destination was less than five miles from Veruca's home, the usual traffic, coinciding with the beginning of rush hour as all the office workers left their workspaces in City of London for their homes in other boroughs, made the trip last about 20 minutes overall. Nearly half an hour in this tensely charged space left Charlie feeling uneasy, all he could do to pass the time was listen to the music Veruca selected on the car stereo and dissect their lyrics for entertainment. But little did he know that, with its too-close-to-home lyrics, the first song that came on the radio during their drive would mark the first track in the soundtrack of their relationship.
Once Charlie reached the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, Veruca guided him through the busy maze of streets until they reached their destination. Coûteux was a medium sized shop nestled in between other medium and small buildings housing small businesses dedicated to the sale of designer clothes and other luxury goods. Charlie was right to trust his instincts and change into something more presentable before leaving to pick Veruca up as the clientele inside this upscale furniture shop all looked as if they were either excelling business figures or heirs leeching of the financial success of their forefathers. While he aesthetically blended in with the crowd, mentally, all the Good Boy experienced inside the store were paranoid, insecure thoughts that everyone secretly hated him. All Charlie saw were elite snobs turning their noses up at a poor kid from the east side who wore nothing but raggedy clothing and toiled away as a shoeshine boy on some street corner. He knew logically that such a thing was not happening, but ever since his first trip outside the factory on his own as a representative of the Wonka brand, Charlie knew that he would never fit in amongst the wealthy, no matter how much money he had.
Instead of focusing so much on his tormented self, Charlie turned his attention towards Veruca, who now seemed to be much more at ease than she had been in the car. Perhaps being surrounded by material goods all waiting to be purchased, with her father's money, of course, for her pleasure made her feel more relaxed, Charlie thought. There was so much about Veruca that Charlie would have loved to know, like why she lived in a penthouse instead of a stately home somewhere in the English countryside like the one she grew up in or in a townhouse in a borough closer to the shops she had become acquainted with over the years. Typically, if someone had a question about someone else's life, the first person could just ask the second person an intimate question, but up until now the biggest obstacle to getting answers to these questions had been Veruca's unwillingness to even acknowledge Charlie's existence. If she had been any other girl, Charlie would have stopped barking up that tree days ago; but she wasn't just any other girl, she was Veruca Salt, one of only four other kids who had the privilege to enter and experience the twisted reality of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. He couldn't do what he did with every other girl who didn't show any interest in him, he couldn't just give up on trying to get Veruca to open up to him, so hopefully the familiar setting of a luxury shop would loosen her up enough to get her to start talking, Charlie hoped.