Despite having a reputation for being a hassle, Veruca possessed many traits society found desirable, with the one that intrigued Charlie the most being her ability to meld seamlessly with whatever crowd she found herself with at that moment. Sure, she was secretly scheming in the back of her head how to manipulate them to her advantage, but she genuinely seemed to enjoy meeting so many new and interesting people. The first time Charlie came to a TABA event, he wanted to lock himself in the restroom until the dinner and awards presentation, or at the very minimum find a quiet, shadowy corner of the waiting room to catch a break from the overstimulation of people approaching him and asking him over and over to confirm mostly bunk Willy Wonka theories. Charlie simply wished to be able to blend in with the crowd and not be bothered by any one while Veruca not just reveled in everyone's attention, she craved it, so much so she wore a revealing red dress to the occasion. While pretty much every other woman in attendance chose dark, mute colors as tradition calls for during a formal event, Veruca's dress literally made her stand out like a sore thumb, a red and flesh colored thumb. Every eye in the room would at one point have to feast their eyes on the little brute, and even if they were stares of contempt from older, more conservative guests who despised the breaking with customs, and Veruca knew she had the upper hand if she could get them riled up over her choice of attire that evening. The two former Golden Ticket winners were truly an interesting pair, one did everything to blend in and not direct attention towards himself while the other took excessive steps to ensure that everyone around knew exactly who she was. It was almost as if the Good Boy was using The Bad Nut as a sort of vacuum to suck away unwanted attention from him, but that was until something troubling caught the attention of the little brute and it took her somewhere else.
"Stay here, Charlie. I'll be back," Veruca commanded as she began walking off through a crowd of people.
"Where are you going?" Charlie asked, unsure of where his guest could possibly be headed.
And without any hesitation, she gestured over to a station with a wall stacked with bottles of alcohol, and responded, "To get a drink."
A cold, hard shiver went down Charlie's spine, he had forgotten that alcohol flowed as freely as the melted chocolate in the river that zig-zagged the factory at these events. Even worse, it was an open bar, meaning that there would be no guardrails to keep Veruca from drinking too much, apart from him standing up to her and forcing her to stop, something he knew he did not have the courage to do and even if he did, it would be a fool's errand. The heir could see it now, the little brute would make a drunken spectacle running on the power of brattiness and entitlement, and he, as the member who invited her to this event, would be blamed and ostracized for her misdeeds.
With his anxiety levels rising after foreseeing a catastrophic event in the making, Charlie pursued his guest through the crowd of people separating them, only to capture her attention by tapping her on the shoulder, and asking with a hint of dread in his tone, "A drink?"
Instead of interpreting Charlie's tone as concern, Veruca took it as an attempt to understand her plan for the evening, but since she herself was unsure what would happen, she simply responded, "Well, we'll see where the night takes us."
He didn't like the sound of that, Veruca had seemingly given up on any attempt at moderation before the battle had even begun and her devolution into an incoherent ball of rage was now on the horizon. The little brute couldn't handle a drink, she seemed to prefer drinks, plural, and if he did nothing to stop this, Charlie would be left to pick up the pieces. However, it was too late to stop Veruca from tasting the devil's nectar that evening, she had managed to reach the bar before Charlie could catch up to her and maneuvered her way back into the crown of people with a martini in hand. Aesthetically, the martini helped her blend in with everyone else, and he'd like to keep it that way, that meaning no additional tantrums. Now, all Charlie could do was keep her at a distance from the bar and make sure that she made limited trips for subsequent rounds of drinks.
Charlie was doing his very best to try and protect the reputation of Wonka Candies by keeping Veruca from becoming too intoxicated and probably getting into a screaming match with the bartender, or perhaps even one of the artificial palm trees that decorated the waiting room. The only thing keeping the alcohol from completely taking over her body where the finger foods Charlie was essentially forcing down her throat; despite her claims that she had to watch her figure, the heir pleaded with his guest that she just had to taste them, which was all a ruse so she could ingest them and have them absorb the alcohol she was intaking. Fortunately, for both of them, the selection of hors d'oeuvres TABA ordered for the event were nearly as delectable as something produced by the amazing Willy Wonka inside his mysterious factory and eating countless numbers of them was not much of a punishment. The two Golden Ticket winner's favorites were a series of Canapés, with each richer than the last: Peach and Prosciutto, Salami and Goat Cheese and Smoked Salmon with Horseradish Cream. Never in a million years could the impoverished young Charlie, a kid who often went scouring around the neighborhood for food his neighbors threw away after the slightest signs of decay, ever have imagined himself at such a ritzy gathering and gobbling up such succulent food as if it were nothing. The heir savored every bite, almost afraid that if he became too indulgent God would punish him and strip away all of his accomplishments, sending him and his family back to live with the dregs of society. And that stood in complete contrast with the little brute and her philosophy of unfettered indulgence combined with a sense of entitlement drilled ever-present into her mind since birth; for Charlie, the Canapés were like he died and went to heaven, whereas for Veruca, such a spread was just another night out.
Unsurprisingly, the brat got bored rather quickly and demanded new stimulation to keep her entertained, fortunately there was an entire room full of people waiting to either be made to dance like monkeys for her own amusement or enter conversations whose sole purpose would be to stroke her ego. She grabbed onto the fifth Golden Ticket winner's arm and squeezed it, surely getting his attention as he jumped in place at this surprise moment of physical contact, and gently whispered into his ear, "So, tell me, Charlie, who's who at this get-together?"
Charlie cleared his throat and composed himself after being caught off guard by his guest's intimate actions before scouring the room to find someone of interest, and ending on a pudgy, fifty-something year old man, pointing, to which he asked, "Well, do you see that man attempting to cover up a receding hairline?"
Veruca nodded in agreement as the heir added, "That's Kenton Rawlings, he owns one of the largest construction companies in all of Europe."
Turning to face a younger man, Charlie elaborated, "He's Ravi Patel, the telecom magnate, he's bought countless ideas worth millions over the years."
"And see her, that's Dorene Crider, you probably know her from her various beauty product lines," the heir pointed out, finishing up a brief rundown on some of the other party guests.
The invitees were some of the most successful figures of the British business world, exactly the kind of people Veruca's father would socialize with, in fact, their mere presence reminded the little brute of all the dinner parties her family hosted for these types of guests at her childhood home growing up. Those parties were always as elegant as this banquet, if not more, with the only thing surely rivaling them being the glamorous dresses and hairdos Veruca sported as she stood next to her parents and smiled at and shook the hands of the guests as they entered their home. Not that Veruca was even permitted to stay and attend these parties before she was a teenager, she was merely present at the greeting ceremony when the guest arrived at their stately home and then her nanny and a hoard of servants had to haul her up to her bedroom while her parents entertained their guests, typically as the brat screamed her head off since she was not allowed to attend the actual dinner party. In other words, the little brute had met many people that way, but never in a million years could she have imagined the street urchin from the tour of Wonka's factory being one of their honored guests, let alone even be acquainted with such an exclusive world, and that was something she had in common with the Good Boy.