Love pulls your heart to a realm of dreams,
Where your mind, defenseless, complies.
Together, we linger in quiet,
As fate eagerly seeks your soul.
We remain, awaiting,
Until you're no more.

Chapter 6

Charlie immediately sensed the shift in Willy. Ever since they entered the salmiakki room, Willy had grown uncharacteristically quiet. The animated, ever-enthusiastic chocolatier who could talk endlessly about the intricacies of his candy creations now moved through the room like a distracted shadow of himself. Adjusting machinery, double-checking ingredients—his actions were mechanical, his mind clearly elsewhere.

It wasn't just Charlie who noticed. The Oompa-Loompas exchanged uneasy glances, their usual songs replaced by a subdued silence. Even the Buckets, who had grown used to Willy's eccentric moods, watched with concerned curiosity. Something was bothering him, and the air in the factory felt heavier because of it.

Charlie, who had been Willy's apprentice and closest confidant since winning the Golden Ticket contest, had seen the chocolatier through every emotion imaginable—exuberant joy, creative frenzy, frustration, even bouts of fury. But this silence, this quiet introspection, was something new.

"You've been off since we came from the salmiakki room," Charlie said finally, his voice cutting through the low hum of the factory's machines.

Willy blinked, startled out of his reverie. It took a moment for his mind to catch up. "Hmm? Oh, just thinking... about how to fix the three-course meal gum," he replied, forcing a distracted half-smile. But Charlie could tell—so could the Oompa-Loompa standing nearby—that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Charlie didn't push further, but he could feel the weight of Willy's mood, like an unspoken secret hovering between them. Whatever—or whoever—was occupying his thoughts, it was pulling him away from everything else.

"You know," Charlie said, trying to sound casual, "maybe you should talk to your shrink. He might help you sort things out—and hey, maybe he'll even give us a breakthrough on that gum."

Willy snapped to attention, as if Charlie's words had flipped a switch in his brain. His distracted gaze sharpened, and a glint of mischief flickered in his eyes. "Hey... that's a great idea! Yes!" He clapped his hands, spinning on his heels. "And if we hurry, we might even catch him now—let's go to the great gl—"

Bang!

Willy walked straight into the great glass elevator. The familiar thud reverberated through the room, and he staggered back, rubbing his forehead with an exaggerated groan.

"I really need to put a sign on that thing," Willy muttered as he adjusted his hat, trying to regain his dignity.

Charlie just shook his head, an amused smile tugging at his lips. As they stepped into the elevator, Charlie pressed the button for the Chocolate Room.

"I'll wait for you here," Charlie said as the doors opened onto the swirling chocolate river below.

Willy gave Charlie a quick wave and pressed the button for the shrink's office. As the elevator ascended, his reflection in the glass betrayed his nervous energy.

The doors opened to reveal the familiar setting of Dr. Loompa's office. The room was an odd blend of professional and whimsical: mahogany bookshelves lined with jars of candy samples, peppermint-scented notepads stacked neatly on the desk, and a chocolate fountain bubbling in the corner. Dr. Loompa, the Oompa-Loompa shrink, sat at his comically oversized chair. His tiny round glasses perched on his nose, his face a blank slate of quiet concentration.

Willy stretched out on the candy-striped couch, his fingers nervously twisting the edge of his vibrant purple coat. The candy-themed shrink's office, with its licorice-patterned rug and soft hum of chocolate fountains, felt oddly stifling today.

Dr. Loompa raised an eyebrow and began jotting something in his notebook, his movements deliberate.

"It's just... I found a letter," Willy continued. "From and old friend. We used to write letters all the time."

Dr. Loompa's pen scratched across the paper, his expression inscrutable.

"When I came back from Loompa Land, I wrote to her," Willy said, staring at his hands. "I wanted to share the news, tell her all about this incredible discovery... but she never replied. I wrote more letters, but nothing came back. Eventually, I stopped trying. Life got busy, and I just... moved on." He paused, his voice quieter now. "Or at least, I thought I had."

Willy leaned back, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. "But last night, I read her last letter again. And for the first time, I noticed something I'd missed before. A phone number, right there at the bottom. I don't know how I missed it." He let out a small, humorless laugh. "After all these years, and it was sitting there the whole time."

Dr. Loompa kept writing, his silence encouraging Willy to fill the void.

"I don't know what to do," Willy admitted, running a hand through his messy hair. "I mean, what am I even supposed to say? 'Hey, remember me? The candy guy? Why did you vanish from my life?' It sounds absurd." He groaned, rubbing his palms against his eyes in frustration. "And if I text her, what if she doesn't reply? She's famous now—she might think it's some scam or a fake message. Or worse... what if she's changed her number altogether?"

The room was silent except for the faint bubbling of the chocolate fountain. Slowly, Willy lowered his hands, his expression softening.

"Wait," he said, his voice gaining strength. "I know what I need to do." He sat up straighter, a familiar spark of determination lighting up his face.

Dr. Loompa finally looked up, his glasses catching the light. He gave Willy a single, solemn nod, his silence somehow affirming everything Willy had just said.

Willy stood, grabbing his cane and adjusting his hat. "Thanks, Doc. You're really good!" He tipped his hat and strode toward the door with newfound purpose.

As the door swung shut behind him, Dr. Loompa leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen thoughtfully against the notepad.

As Willy made his way to the Chocolate Room, his cane tapping softly against the factory's candy-colored floors, he muttered to himself, working through the problem like one of his many candy conundrums.

"Calling's too risky," he said under his breath. "She might think it's a scam and block the number outright. And... well, I'm not exactly comfortable with the idea of calling anyway. Too direct. Too... personal." He waved a hand in the air as if dismissing the thought entirely.

He paused mid-step, tapping his cane against the floor as an idea began to form. "A message," he murmured. "Something only she and I would understand. Something that proves it's me—without a doubt. Yeah, that's the ticket."

Willy's steps quickened, but his words slowed, tinged with uncertainty. "And if she doesn't answer... well..." He stopped abruptly, finding himself in front of the door to the Chocolate Room.

As his hand hovered over the handle, his eyes unfocused, and the vivid colors of the factory faded around him. He was pulled back—another flashback.

The crackling fire cast warm, flickering shadows across the snowy Lapland landscape. Willy sat cross-legged on a thick blanket near the fire, his coat and scarf bundled tightly around him, though his face was pink from the cold. Lyyli sat beside him.

Willy handed her a marshmallow dipped in chocolate, the coating glistening in the firelight. "Here, try this one," he said, a boyish grin lighting up his face. "I adjusted the recipe—less sugar in the chocolate, so the marshmallow can shine. Balance is everything, you know."

Lyyli accepted it with a dramatic sniff, pretending to analyze it. "Mmm, smells like... chocolate genius. Did you make this just for us?"

Willy tilted his head, feigning modesty. "Maybe. Or maybe I had a little too much time on my hands this morning."

She bit into the treat, her eyes widening. "Oh, this is divine," she said, her voice half-muffled by the marshmallow. "You're going to ruin store-bought chocolate for me forever, you know that?"

"That's the goal," Willy replied, leaning back on his hands with a chuckle. "The world deserves better candy."

Lyyli turned to Willy, her voice soft and curious. "So... the other day, I saw you walking home with a book tucked under your arm. Was it one of your secret recipe journals?"

Willy shook his head with a grin. "Not even close. That was Tolkien.Thebest. No recipes there, just hobbits, dragons, and the finest adventure you'll ever read."

Lyyli smiled, finding it endearing—and a little curious—that a chocolatier as imaginative as Willy would be such a Tolkien enthusiast. "I like Tolkien too. Hey, did you know he based Elvish on Finnish? It was actually his favorite language."

Willy's eyes widened in surprise. "Seriously? Finnish? Wow… I guess I'll have to start learning it now!"

Lyyli laughed, shaking her head. "You're such a nerd, you know that?"

Willy grinned. "Takes one to know one."

"Fair enough," Lyyli admitted with a playful shrug. "Speaking of nerdy things, you should listen toRhapsody of Fire."

"What's that?" Willy asked, his curiosity piqued.

"They're an Italian band," Lyyli explained, her excitement growing. "They sing about dragons, swords, epic battles... You can't listen to them without thinking of Tolkien, King Arthur, or every fantasy adventure ever written. It's like a musical version of Middle-earth."

Willy's grin stretched wider. "Nowthatsounds like my kind of thing. I'm in. He took another sip of his chocolate. "And you? What are you into?"

They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the fire flicker and pop, their faces illuminated by the glow. Above them, the night sky stretched out, a tapestry of stars. The air felt crisp, and for a moment, everything seemed to fall away.

Lyyli leaned back on her blanket, her gaze shifting upward, and she hummed quietly to herself, her voice soft but filled with a certain warmth.

"Good morning starshine, the earth says hello…"

Willy's head snapped up, a look of recognition lighting up his face. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Hey... that's fromHair, right?"

Lyyli's eyes twinkled, surprised and delighted. "Yes! You know it?"

Willy laughed, his voice light. "I love it. It's one of my favorites." He leaned back too, joining her in song, his voice blending with hers. For a moment, the two of them were just two voices, floating under the stars.

"Good morning, starshine, the earth says hello," they sang together, their voices harmonizing, the words carrying in the cool night air.

The melody was simple, but in that moment, it felt like the whole universe was listening. They continued singing, the stars above seeming to twinkle in time with their voices, as they sat together in the stillness, sharing something that felt timeless and deeply familiar.

Coming out of his flashback, Willy's hand instinctively went to his pocket. He pulled out his Wonkaphone, the device he barely used beyond sending quick texts to Charlie or sending stickers to the Oompa-Loompas in their group chat. It looked like any other smartphone, but to Willy, it was just another tool in his candy-filled world. He barely gave it much thought.

From the other pocket, he retrieved the crinkled letter, its edges worn from time, and unfolded it carefully. The phone number was scrawled at the bottom, the familiar handwriting—Lyyli's—suddenly feeling like a doorway to the past, a bridge he'd never crossed.

"Okay... here we go," he muttered under his breath, the words feeling strangely heavy as he began to press the numbers on the screen. He hit "Save Contact" and typed in the name—Lyyli. His finger hovered over the screen for a moment, as if it might jump back into the past itself if he pressed the wrong button.

Then he opened the SMS window.

For a long moment, Willy stared at the blinking cursor. His mind raced, his nerves flooding in waves that made his palms sweat. Would it even make sense to her after all these years?

He stared at the empty text box, his thumb hovering over the keys, but no words came. He felt suddenly small—like a candy maker without his sugar. The phone felt like a huge, uninviting obstacle, and he couldn't find the courage to cross it. The silence in the room seemed to grow louder as the seconds stretched on.

Willy let out a shaky breath and leaned back against the doorframe, his finger still pressed against the phone's screen but no longer moving. He was unsure—more unsure than he had ever been about anything in his life, not even when it came to his craziest candy inventions.

He let out a deep, exasperated sigh. "Okay, whatever. Life's full of risks," the chocolatier muttered to himself, shaking off the doubt that lingered. He didn't have time for hesitation. With a flick of his fingers, he began typing something that only he and Lyyli would ever understand. Something small, something simple.

"Good morning, starshine. The Earth says Hello!"

As he typed the last word, Willy froze. His finger hovered over the screen, just an inch away from pressing "SEND," and for a moment, time seemed to stretch infinitely. He could feel his heart racing. His thoughts scattered. What if it was the wrong thing to say? What if... what if she didn't understand? What if this was all a mistake?

The silence of the room felt suffocating now. He could almost hear the words "don't do it" echoing in his mind.

And then, as if the universe itself had decided for him, the large wooden door to the Chocolate Room creaked open behind him. Willy, leaning with his back against it, wasn't ready. The door swung wide, and with a startled yelp, he lost his balance and tumbled backward. The phone slipped from his grasp, and he landed with an undignified thud into the soft, springy grass of the Chocolate Room.

"Dang it!" he groaned, pushing himself up, his hat falling slightly askew as he scrambled to his feet. He quickly dusted himself off, a hand reflexively reaching down to grab the phone lying on the ground.

When he looked at the screen, his stomach dropped.

The message had been sent.

His finger must've accidentally brushed against the screen when he fell. He stared at the words, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Oh my goodness..." Willy muttered under his breath, feeling a mix of surprise, embarrassment, and just a hint of excitement. He'd done it. There was no taking it back now.

For a moment, he just stood there in the grass, the weight of the moment sinking in. He had sent a message—a message to Lyyli, a message that might change everything.

He stared at the phone, waiting for something—anything—to happen. The next step was out of his hands now.

"Did you miss anything down there?" The question startled Willy, his heart racing for a second. He looked up and there was Charlie, peering down at him from the doorway, an Oompa Loompa standing just behind him, both of them watching him with wide, curious eyes.

Willy quickly scrambled to his feet, trying to regain his composure. "Ha ha! Very funny! I bumped into a rock candy and fell," he said, adjusting his clothes as he stood. His voice was a little too casual, trying to cover the embarrassment that flushed his cheeks.

Charlie and the Oompa Loompa both burst into laughter, their amusement ringing out across the room. "How did youfall?" Charlie asked, still chuckling.

Willy waved a hand dismissively, trying to deflect. "Nevermind," he muttered, still feeling the heat in his face. He glanced away, not wanting to dwell on it.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Well, how did it go with the shrink anyway?" he asked, his voice lowering a bit.

Willy stiffened at the mention of it, trying to brush it off. "Uh... well, he said... keep going and never give up," he replied quickly, his tone a little too nonchalant, as if the advice were nothing of importance. He turned towards the Chocolate River, hoping to change the subject. "So, uh... how's everything going? Everything running smoothly?"

Charlie followed him, but the tension in the air didn't go unnoticed. Willy tried to keep walking, to shake off the nervous thoughts that were crowding his mind. He felt his stomach twist, the weight of the message he had sent still hanging over him.

Dinner was quiet, far quieter than usual. Willy couldn't shake the restlessness gnawing at him. Every now and then, he would glance at the phone in his pocket, but it felt impossible to sneak a look during dinner without anyone noticing. He sat there, his food hardly touched, his mind miles away, waiting—waiting for the ping of a notification, a reply.

After dinner, Willy gave a quick "good night" to the Buckets and hurried back to his room, his mind still focused on his phone. He couldn't resist checking it every few moments as he walked, his fingers itching to see if there was any response. The silence of his room felt suffocating as he sank into his chair, phone in hand, waiting—always waiting—for a reply that could change everything.

Willy sighed, leaning back in his chair as his fingers hovered over the phone. "It's useless... maybe she just changed her number. After all these years... well, worth the try," he muttered to himself, almost sounding defeated. With a deep breath, he placed the phone on his night desk, the screen facing down, and got up to take a bath.

The hot water from the shower worked its magic, washing away the tension in his muscles, but not the unease that had settled deep within him. He stood there, letting the steam rise around him, trying to clear his mind, but all he could think about was the message.

When he finally stepped out of the shower, fresh and relaxed, he pulled on some soft, clean pajamas, the fabric feeling comforting against his skin. But as he moved toward the door to his room, he paused, noticing something unusual—a faint light blinking in the corner of his eye.

He turned to the night desk, and his heart skipped a beat. The phone screen was glowing softly, the familiar notification bouncing on the screen:1 new message.

Willy's breath caught in his throat. He froze, staring at the phone like it was a strange, alien object, unsure if he should reach for it. For a moment, the silence of the room felt almost too loud.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he walked over to the desk and picked it up. His fingers trembled slightly as he unlocked the phone, the screen illuminating his face in the dim room.

The message was there, waiting for him.

"You twinkle above us, we twinkle below..."

A rush of emotions flooded Willy all at once—surprise, disbelief, joy, a little fear. His thumb hovered over the screen for a moment, reading the words again to make sure they were real.

And then, out of nowhere, another message popped up. It read:

"It's been a while..."

He couldn't tell if she was angry or just anxious for his answer. The uncertainty gnawed at him, making his fingers tremble slightly. Willy rushed back to the Chocolate Room, his mind racing. The urgency in his chest pushed him forward, the need to do something, anything, feeling almost frantic.

Meanwhile, Charlie's phone beeped, the sound cutting through the quiet of the night. Still groggy, he squinted at the screen and read Willy's message:"Wake up, it's an emergency! Come outside."

Charlie's eyes snapped open, sleep forgotten in an instant. His heart skipped a beat.Emergency?He threw off his covers, careful not to wake his family, and tiptoed quietly through the house, making sure to avoid the creaky floorboards. The cool night air hit his face as he stepped outside, his footsteps soft on the grass.

There, in the distance, he saw Willy's shadow—barely visible, bathed in the pale light of his phone screen.

Charlie hurried toward him, his mind racing. "What happened? What's the emergency?" he whispered, his voice low and cautious, as if afraid to break the stillness of the night.

Willy looked up from the screen, his face lit by its glow, his eyes wide with something Charlie couldn't quite place—anxiety? Excitement? Both, maybe. He seemed almost out of breath.

"Charlie… I need your help," Willy said, his voice urgent but strangely quiet, as if he didn't want to disturb the world around them.

Charlie's brow furrowed, more confused than ever. "With what? What's going on?"

Willy glanced down at his phone, the words on the screen almost too much to explain in one breath.

"She sent a message," Willy muttered, his voice unsteady, trembling just enough to betray the emotions he was holding back.

Charlie frowned, blinking as he tried to make sense of what he'd just heard. "She? Who's 'she'?"

Willy looked away, embarassed, his gaze dropping to the ground, avoiding Charlie's curious stare. Charlie froze, the realization dawning on him. "Wait... you meanLyyli? That Lyyli?" He stared at Willy, incredulous. "Since when have you been in touch with her? And this—this is really what this is all about?"

Willy's eyes flicked up for a brief moment, full of a mix of hope and worry. "This is serious, Charlie. It's... it's her." His hands fidgeted with the phone as he held it tightly. "I don't know what to answer. What if she's... I don't know." He swallowed hard and handed Charlie the phone, his eyes pleading. "Tell me what you think. Do you think she's upset?"

Charlie glanced down at the phone, reading the message on the screen as the weight of the moment hung between them.

"You want me to help you figure it out, don't you?" Charlie asked softly, his voice calm but understanding.

Willy nodded, his gaze fixed on the glowing screen, his hands fidgeting. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say."

Charlie handed the phone back to Willy with a reassuring smile. "You're Willy Wonka… You're not going to mess this up. Come on, just answer her."

Willy swallowed hard, his hands frozen on the phone. "I can't. You do it!"

Charlie blinked in disbelief. "What? Why? No, Willy, youhaveto do it. It has to come from you." He held the phone out insistently, trying to hand it back.

"Please, Charlie!" Willy pleaded, his wide eyes almost comically desperate. Charlie sighed, realizing there was no point in arguing—when Willy Wonka set his mind on something, there was no changing it.

"Fine," Charlie said with a resigned shake of his head, taking the phone again. He stared at the screen for a moment before carefully typing.

"What are you typing?" Willy asked, peering over Charlie's shoulder with a mix of curiosity and anxiety.

"I'm asking how she's doing," Charlie said calmly, his fingers moving deliberately.

"Wait! You sent it?" Willy yelped, snatching the phone out of Charlie's hands as if it might spontaneously combust. He stared at the screen, wide-eyed, his heart racing as he saw the message delivered:"How have you been?"

Willy turned to Charlie, panic written all over his face.

Charlie held up his hands to stop him. "Relax. It's a normal question. Just breathe and wait."

Charlie couldn't help but smirk as he watched Willy pacing nervously. Seeing his eccentric mentor—a man who built edible palaces and invented candy that defied logic—reduced to a bundle of nerves over a message -to a girl- was almost too much to handle.

"Anyway," Charlie said with a yawn, "I need to go to sleep. And so do you. You're not going to think straight if you're exhausted. See you tomorrow."

Willy waved him off distractedly, his eyes glued to the phone screen. "Yeah, thanks anyway. Goodnight, Charlie."

Charlie turned to leave, chuckling softly to himself as he headed back to bed. Meanwhile, Willy returned to his own room, the weight of anticipation still heavy on his chest. He lay on his bed, staring at his phone, waiting for the screen to light up with a reply.

Minutes turned into hours, and still, there was nothing. Willy sighed deeply, his thoughts spiraling. "It must be the time zone," he muttered, trying to reassure himself.

The night stretched on, and as the first rays of sunrise peeked through the curtains, Willy's exhaustion finally caught up with him. The phone slipped from his hand, and he drifted off to sleep, the nervous energy slowly fading into quiet dreams.

Willy woke up late the next morning, still feeling the weight of the previous night's restlessness. He headed straight to the bathroom, the events that had kept him awake slipping from his immediate memory. After a refreshing shower, he dressed meticulously in his signature ensemble: a deep maroon velvet frock coat with thin silver stripes, a sleek black waistcoat, a colorful paisley shirt with a stand-up collar, black tailored pants, polished black shoes, and, of course, his black top hat. As he fastened the golden 'W' pin at his neck, a glint in the mirror caught his eye—the phone lying on his bed, its screen blinking with a new notification.

Curiosity piqued, Willy rushed to the device and read the awaiting message:

"Meet me in the backstage after the performance. If it's truly you, you'll know the password. See you soon."

Below the message was a link. Clicking on it, Willy was directed to a poster for an upcoming concert by a band named Aqua, scheduled to perform at the town's Theatre in two weeks. The name didn't ring a bell, but at the bottom of the poster, a particular detail stood out: "Special guests: Lyyli Rikkunen and Matti Turunen."