Come, let me drown in you,
For the rush, until you pull me in.
Hold me close,
For love like ours should live again.

Chapter 12

The sun had barely risen on the horizon when Willy opened his eyes, feeling more invigorated than he had in a long time. Excitement pulsed through his veins— he had been feeling more inspired than ever, and he had new flavors in mind to create but, most importantly, he couldn't wait to see Lyyli's reaction when she saw the recording studio he had prepared with such enthusiasm.

Before he could get out of bed, a soft knock on the door caught his attention. "Come in!" he said, sitting up and adjusting his purple satin robe. The door opened, revealing an Oompa Loompa carrying a small silver tray.

"Mr. Wonka, it is ready," announced the small messenger, maintaining a formal posture.

Willy grinned from ear to ear and leaped out of bed. "Excellent! I can't wait to see her face when she finds out! Ha!" He murmured to himself, already lost in his thoughts.

He turned to the Oompa Loompa and instructed, "Could you call Charlie and check if Lyyli is awake yet?" The small worker nodded and quickly left.

A few minutes later, as Willy strolled through the factory's corridor, he saw Lyyli stepping out of her room. Today, her eyes were accentuated by a soft green eyeshadow, making her already expressive gaze shine even more.

He grinned instantly. "Hey! I really like what you did with your eyes."

"Thanks! I thought it suited today." She smiled, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. "So, what is it that you wanted to show me?"

"Come on, I think you'll like it." He gestured for her to follow and led her toward the Great Glass Elevator. As they walked, he added, "Unfortunately, Charlie won't be able to join us right now—he's stuck in online classes because of the pandemic."

Lyyli nodded. "Ah, right. He mentioned that yesterday. I hope he's doing well."

Inside the elevator, Willy pressed a newly labeled button: Stargazer's Soundscape. The name immediately piqued Lyyli's curiosity.

She raised an eyebrow. "What are you up to?"

Willy simply flashed a mischievous smile as the elevator began to move. "You'll see. Hold on."

The elevator slowed, and as the doors opened, they stepped out into a wide, dimly lit corridor. At the end of the hall stood a large set of double doors. Instead of opening the door himself, Willy paused, glancing around with anticipation. A moment later, a small Oompa Loompa appeared, carrying a gleaming silver key. Willy took it with a smile before turning to Lyyli. "You should be the one to open it."

"Why?" she asked, to what he insisted "Go on, you'll see." Lyyli hesitated for a moment, her fingers brushing against the cool metal of the key before she took it from his hand. She glanced at Willy, her curiosity intensifying, before carefully fitting the key into the lock. With a soft click, the doors swung open, revealing the breathtaking space inside.

The recording studio was magnificent—a vast, beautifully designed room fully equipped with everything a singer could need to rehearse and record. A grand recording booth stood at the center, enclosed in soundproof glass so anyone outside could see the person inside while capturing their voice with pristine clarity. Beside it, another cabin housed a state-of-the-art computer setup, lined with high-tech equipment for mixing and mastering tracks as she sang.

But beyond its functionality, the studio radiated warmth and vibrancy, just like the rest of the factory—except this space carried a unique touch of Lyyli's personality. Small, thoughtful details—velvet seating, intricate patterns reminiscent of Nordic artistry, and delicate hanging lanterns—gave the studio a personal charm that made it feel like it had been designed just for her.

Lyyli stepped inside, her breath hitching as she took it all in. Her fingers traced over the sleek control panels, the polished wood of the instruments – some of them were really small, clearly made for the Oompa Loompas, and the inviting texture of the soundproof walls. It was, without a doubt, the most stunning studio she had ever seen.

She turned to Willy, eyes wide with wonder. "Willy, what is—?"

His grin widened. "Well, you mentioned having things to do and deadlines. So I thought, 'Hey, what if Lyyli had a space where she could work without distractions and actually enjoy herself during quarantine?'" He motioned toward the room proudly. "And you won't be alone. I've assigned a few Oompa Loompas to assist you whenever you're here. Some will handle mixing in the sound booth, others can accompany you with instruments. These guys can pretty much do anything you need. They're fantastic!" He smiled at her, a hint of nervous anticipation in his expression. "So… what do you think?"

Before he could process what was happening, Lyyli threw herself at him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Willy stiffened, completely unprepared for the sudden affection.

Lyyli pulled away, beaming. "Willy, this is incredible! Thank you so much!" She spun on her heel, taking in the room again, marveling aloud at every detail, her excitement bubbling over. "I can't believe it! Look at this place!"

Willy watched her, enjoying her reaction, until he noticed the Oompa Loompa beside him grinning mischievously. Narrowing his eyes at the little worker, he felt his blush deepen. Clearing his throat, he straightened his coat. "Alright, well… I'll leave you to explore your studio."

Just then, three Oompa Loompas entered. Willy gestured toward them. "These guys will be here for you. They'll help with anything you need."

Lyyli looked at them, curiosity and eagerness lighting up her expression.

"I'll see you later then. Enjoy your studio!" Willy said with a chuckle, stepping toward the door.

"Willy, really—thank you!" she called out again, gratitude shining in her voice.

Pausing at the doorway, he glanced back at her and smiled. "You're always welcome."

With that, he turned and left, heading to the Inventing Room, his heart still pounding a little faster than usual.

Inside the Inventing Room, the air was thick with the scent of caramelized sugar, melted chocolate, and a hint of something floral—something new. Willy stood at his worktable, a mess of bubbling concoctions and half-melted prototypes spread before him. With his signature flair, he twirled a tiny spoon between his fingers, eyes fixed on the shimmering, heart-shaped candy in front of him.

This was it. His latest creation, inspired by a morning flash of genius.

The Everlasting Lovebud—a delicate candy that bloomed on your tongue like a flower, releasing waves of different flavors depending on your emotions. If you were happy, it tasted like strawberries dipped in honey. If you were nervous, it had a soothing lavender-vanilla touch. If you were in love... well, that was the best part. It would taste like whatever the person you loved loved the most.

"A candy that knows your heart," Willy mused aloud, grinning. "Romantics are going to eat this up—literally."

Just then, the big rounded door creaked open, and Charlie trudged inside, looking exhausted. His hair was a little messy, and he clutched a notebook like it was the source of all his misery.

"Sorry I didn't come sooner," Charlie sighed. "I was drowning in my literature homework." He flopped onto a nearby stool, rubbing his temples. "I swear, I just can't wrap my head around Shakespeare. The language, the metaphors—none of it makes sense to me. Any chance you could help clear my mind about it?"

Willy chuckled, setting his candy mold aside. Charlie was brilliant when it came to chemistry and math—subjects he had picked up quickly by helping out in the factory. But Shakespeare? That was a different story.

And then it hit him.

"You know what?" Willy said. "I know someone who understands Shakespeare better than your teacher."

Charlie perked up, curiosity replacing his frustration. "Who?"

Willy didn't answer right away. Instead, he grinned, put on his hat, grabbed his cane, and motioned for Charlie to follow.

"Come on," he said, already heading toward the door. Without another word, he led straight toward Lyyli's studio.

As they arrived at the studio, Willy gave the door a couple of rhythmic knocks. A moment later, an Oompa Loompa opened it for them, bowing slightly before stepping aside to let them in.

Through the large glass window of the recording cabin, Lyyli spotted them and waved, a warm smile on her lips. She had headphones on, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders as she stood confidently in front of the microphone.

Willy and Charlie made their way to the couch in the corner, settling in as an Oompa Loompa inside the mixing cabin pressed a button, activating the connection between their room and Lyyli's microphone.

"We're just going to record this song one more time, and I'll be with you, okay?" Lyyli's voice came through the speakers, clear and melodic even when she was just speaking.

Charlie, still curious, leaned forward slightly. "What are you recording?"

Lyyli adjusted her headphones and replied, "I was asked to record a song for Aqua."

Charlie's eyebrows lifted. "Really?"

Lyyli gestured toward the Oompa Loompa at the mixing board, signaling for the track to start. A soft mechanical click was heard, and then the music began—the first lines were sung by Aqua's lead singer, setting the tone for the track.

As the melody filled the room, Lyyli shifted her stance, shoulders relaxing, her eyes focusing on the lyrics in front of her. The moment the instrumental break arrived, she took a deep breath and leaned into the mic, ready to sing.

Charlie, completely engrossed, whispered, "This is exciting! I've never heard her sing before..."

Beside him, Willy chuckled, leaning in slightly. A playful glint shone in his eyes as he whispered back, "Hold on and prepare your ears then."

And with that, Lyyli began to sing.

Fearless, or so we believe, as we chase the dark unknown,
Guided by whispers in the wind and the rhythm of a heartbeat.
Promises seem unbreakable—until we see them up close.

The moment Lyyli's voice filled the room, ethereal yet powerful, both Willy and Charlie felt a shiver run down their spines.

Shaped by the world, we struggle to take control.
What have we become?

Charlie sat completely still, eyes wide, his hands gripping his knees as if afraid to move and break the spell. He was absorbed, mesmerized, his heartbeat syncing with the melody.

No one to ease the pain,
Trying to escape the endless rain.
We never realize until we're already lost—
Was it all in vain?

As the last note faded into silence, the entire studio remained still, as if the air itself was holding its breath. Even the Oompa Loompas, usually busy and efficient, stood frozen, their expressions awestruck.

Lyyli lowered her headphones and turned to the Oompa Loompa in the mixing cabin, her voice calm but satisfied. "I guess that's it, right?"

The Oompa Loompa nodded slowly, still looking dazed, before finally pressing a button to stop the recording.

She pushed open the door and stepped out, only to pause when she spotted Charlie and Willy, both sitting frozen, their mouths slightly open, trying to process something far beyond their imagination.

"Are you… okay?" she asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

That seemed to snap them back to reality. Willy blinked rapidly and forced a casual grin, while Charlie shook his head as if waking from a trance.

"Oh! Yeah, totally fine," Willy said, waving a hand as if brushing off the intensity of the moment. "We just—uh, we just came to check on you."

Charlie finally found his voice, though it was softer than usual. "That was… amazing," he admitted. "I've never heard anyone sing like that before."

Lyyli chuckled and took a seat beside them on the couch. "Well, I'm glad you liked it." She glanced between them. "But I have a feeling this isn't just a social visit. What's up?"

Willy leaned back, a mischievous sparkle returning to his eyes. "Actually, Charlie might need your help."

Lyyli raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? What's going on?"

"Well..." Charlie sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I just can't make sense of Shakespeare."

"Really?" Lyyli blinked, surprised. "Why not? Don't you like it?"

"Do you?" Charlie asked, genuinely curious.

"Of course! When I was your age, I devoured every one of his plays! He's a genius!" Lyyli exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "What are you studying?"

"The Tempest," Charlie replied, still a little amazed that she was so passionate about it.

"Oh, that's one of his best! It's my favorite, too!" Lyyli said, her voice filled with excitement.

Willy turned to Charlie with a teasing smile. "See? Told you she could help you. But first, let's get some dinner. Aren't you starving? Because I sure am."

With that, they all headed toward the Chocolate Room, where the Buckets were waiting for dinner.

After dinner, Lyyli sat beside Charlie on the soft grass of the Chocolate Room, guiding him through Shakespeare's words with an enthusiasm that was impossible to ignore.

"You see, very word is chosen for rhythm, for meaning, for emotion. It's like a song, but in words!" she explained, her hands gesturing animatedly.

Charlie furrowed his brows. "But why does he have to make it so complicated?"

Lyyli laughed. "Because life is complicated! Take Prospero, for example. He's powerful, but he's also broken. He wants revenge, but deep down, he just wants peace. That's what makes him fascinating!"

As she spoke, her passion for the story drew in even the Buckets and Dr. Wonka, who found themselves leaning in, captivated by her words.

Meanwhile, under a candy tree, Willy watched them in silence, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Mrs. Bucket offered a humble smile, glancing at Lyyli with gentle concern. "Oh, dear, you really don't have to go through all this trouble for Charlie. I'd hate to take up too much of your time."

Lyyli shook her head, a warm smile spreading across her face. "It's no trouble at all, really. I love talking about Shakespeare, and I'm happy to help. Besides," she added with a playful glint in her eyes, "it's fun to see someone else fall under his spell."

She leaned in with an eager smile. "Alright, Charlie, let's see—what do you understand from the next act?"

Charlie hesitated, glancing down at the book. "Well... I think Prospero is still testing Ferdinand? He's making him work really hard, but it's not because he hates him. It's more like... he wants to be sure he's worthy of Miranda."

Lyyli's eyes lit up. "Yes! Exactly! Prospero is tough on Ferdinand, but only because he wants the best for his daughter. He's playing the long game."

Charlie blinked in surprise. "Huh... I actually get it now," he said, a grin creeping onto his face. "That wasn't as confusing as I thought!"

Lyyli beamed. "Told you! Shakespeare isn't as scary once you crack the code." She leaned back on her hands, excitement flickering in her eyes as she glanced at Charlie. "Oh! That just reminded me of something."

Charlie tilted his head, intrigued. "What?"

Even Willy, who had been listening, raised an eyebrow, curious.

Lyyli grinned. "There's a Brazilian band called Angra that released an entire album based on The Tempest! Every song represents a different part of the story."

Charlie's eyes widened. "Seriously? That's actually really cool!"

Willy smirked. "I see where this is going."

Lyyli leaned over and opened Spotify on Charlie's laptop, quickly typing Angra into the search bar. Scrolling through the results, she smiled as she found the album she had mentioned.

"Here it is!" she said, clicking on it. She turned to Charlie. "Alright, listen carefully—your job is to play the whole album from start to finish. No skipping songs, no shuffling. The tracks are meant to be heard in order."

Charlie nodded, already intrigued. "Got it. So, what am I looking for?"

"The lyrics," Lyyli said with a grin. "Pay attention to the words, the mood of the music, and how it connects to The Tempest. That's your homework. When you're done, we'll talk about it."

Charlie smirked. "This might be the coolest homework I've ever gotten."

Willy smirked mischievously, clearly amused by the whole thing. "Are you seriously teaching him Shakespeare through heavy metal?"

Lyyli narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed. "Hey, knowledge is never enough," she shot back. "You'll see when he gets an A on his tests."

Willy chuckled, shaking his head, but before he could say anything, Lyyli's grin turned suspicious. "And by the way…" she added, leaning toward him. "You ended up liking heavy metal yourself under my influence."

Willy opened his mouth to protest but hesitated, realizing she had a point. With an exaggerated sigh, he crossed his arms. "Alright, fine. I guess that's true."

Charlie couldn't help but laugh at that. He turned to Willy, eyes full of amusement. "I'd never think of you listening to heavy metal."

Willy crossed his arms, huffing dramatically. "Well, it's her fault," he said, nodding toward Lyyli.

Lyyli just grinned smugly, while the Buckets and Dr. Wonka, who had been quietly listening, chuckled at the exchange. The idea of Willy Wonka—of all people—getting into heavy metal was just too funny to picture.

As Willy and Lyyli walked towards their bedrooms, the light of the evening dimmed gently around them. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as he talked about his latest invention.

"The Everlasting Lovebud," Willy said with a grin. "I've been working on it this morning and I just finished it. The flavors change depending on what you're feeling. I thought it was the perfect way to combine emotions and candy in a way that's never been done before for Valentine's Day."

Lyyli's smile widened, but she couldn't hide the fascination in her voice. "So, if you're nervous, it tastes like lavender and vanilla? But what about… what if you're a little embarrassed? Would it taste different?"

Willy froze, caught off guard. The question was innocent enough, but it made him think of a situation that could easily lead to something awkward.

"Well… I suppose if you're embarrassed, it could taste like something a little less pleasant," Willy started to explain, his voice drifting off as he tried to keep the conversation light. "Maybe something mild, like mint or maybe something like… sour lemon, I guess?"

But Lyyli wasn't finished. She raised an eyebrow. "So, if I were to... say... feel a bit... shy around you, would it taste different from, let's say, when we're just relaxing together?"

The air between them suddenly shifted, and Willy's face flushed a bit. He felt the warmth creeping up his neck, and he immediately wondered if the candy would taste like strawberries dipped in honey or something completely different. The thought made him laugh nervously.

"Well, I suppose that's... a question for another time," Willy said, brushing the moment off with a small chuckle. "So, how was you day?" he answered purposely to change the subject. "Did you enjoy working with the Oompa Loompas?"

Lyyli's eyes lit up at the question. "They're amazing to work with," she said with genuine enthusiasm. "They just get it. It's like they can feel what I'm trying to express with the music, even if I can't find the right words."

"I'm worried about the next album though," she confessed, her voice tinged with frustration. "I still haven't come up with the concept or the lyrics. Nothing's coming to me, no inspiration, no ideas. I keep thinking about it, but it's like everything's just... stuck."

Willy knew exactly why Lyyli was stuck—Tero had been pressuring her to come up with something new, and the mere thought of it irritated him even more. He already didn't like the guy, but this only cemented his distaste.

"Pressure isn't exactly the best environment for creativity," Willy said. "You shouldn't listen to that idiot."

Lyyli frowned. "Hey, don't call him an idiot."

Willy raised a brow.

She sighed. "Even if he is an idiot."

Willy smirked at that, but before he could say anything, Lyyli tilted her head curiously. "Alright, then—what do you do when you need inspiration?"

He hesitated at the question, caught off guard. "I just… try to ignore it," he admitted, shrugging. "Do something enjoyable instead, and eventually, the idea just comes to me."

Willy gestured vaguely. "Sometimes I wander around the factory, play something with the Oompa Loompas, or listen to some—" He stopped mid-sentence.

His mind suddenly betrayed him, dragging him back to all the times he had wandered into the library, searching for inspiration, only to end up putting on one of her records—just to hear her voice.

A slow warmth crept up his neck as he realized how often he had done it. How, no matter what, the sound of her voice had always calmed him, filling him with a bittersweet nostalgia, an ache for something just out of reach. How her lyrics, time and time again, had felt as if she were speaking directly to him.

His face burned at the memory.

"Willy, are you there?" Lyyli's voice pulled him back to the present.

He blinked, realizing he had completely drifted off. "Huh? Oh—yeah. Sorry." He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the lingering warmth in his face.

Lyyli raised an eyebrow, amused. "You totally spaced out."

"I did not," he huffed, folding his arms.

"You so did." She smirked. "What were you thinking about?"

Willy hesitated for a fraction of a second before waving a hand dismissively. "Nothing important. Just… what I do for inspiration, that's all."

Lyyli wasn't convinced. "Uh-huh. And?"

"And," he said quickly, "music helps. A lot. Sometimes more than I expect it to."

She grinned. "I get that." Then, tilting her head playfully, she added, "So, what exactly is on Willy Wonka's playlist?"

Willy stiffened slightly but kept his expression neutral. He wasn't about to admit that. Instead, he offered a casual shrug. "Oh, you know. Whatever fits the mood."

They arrived at her bedroom door, but Lyyli still wasn't satisfied with his vague answer. She pressed him again, insisting on knowing what he actually enjoyed listening to.

Willy, determined to steer the conversation away from himself, swiftly turned the question back on her. "What about you? How did you find inspiration for your previous albums?"

Lyyli sighed but let it slide—for now. "That's easy," she said with a small smile. "I've always been a daydreamer. I just need to think about my childhood idols, books, music, literature… you know, fantasy in general."

She paused for a moment, her expression shifting ever so slightly. "And when I write more emotional songs—ones with deeper meaning—"

Her voice trailed off, just as his had.

Because the truth was, whenever she wrote those ballads, the ones that felt the most raw and personal… she had been thinking of him. Always.

But that was something she'd never admit.

The realization sent a sudden warmth rushing to her cheeks, and now, it was her turn to blush.

Willy raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift in her expression, his curiosity piqued. "Something you're hiding?" he teased with a playful grin.

Lyyli gave him a mock-innocent look. "No," she replied, her voice taking on a childlike tone as she quickly changed the subject. "I just need to get some sleep earlier tonight. Tomorrow, I've got to work on the album's concept."

She stepped back toward her door, offering him a small smile. "Goodnight, Willy" she said, effectively ending the conversation.

Willy, still slightly puzzled, nodded. "Goodnight," he replied, though the curiosity lingered in his mind. There was something she wasn't saying, but now she had a new focus. The idea of her working on the album kept him intrigued, even if he didn't fully understand her reaction.

Lyyli lay in bed, restless, her mind refusing to quiet. No matter how much she tossed and turned, the conversation with Willy lingered, replaying in her thoughts.

She had never truly realized just how much he had been a part of her music. Every time she had written her deepest, most heartfelt songs, she had been speaking to him—wondering what he would think, if he would ever listen. And if he did… would he understand?

The realization hit harder than she expected, settling deep in her chest. Staring up at the ceiling, she let out a quiet sigh.

"I guess... you're really special, aren't you?" she murmured into the stillness of the night. The words felt strange on her tongue, yet undeniably true.

A mixture of wonder and vulnerability wrapped around her heart. She had always felt something about Willy that set him apart from the rest of the world, but only now did she truly understand why.

Meanwhile, across the factory, Willy lay awake, staring into the darkness of his room. He exhaled slowly, rolling onto his side, his thoughts just as restless as hers.

Something was changing—he could feel it. And maybe, just maybe, he had been overlooking something important all along. Something far more significant than he had ever let himself believe.

Paucorum: Thank you so much for dropping by! You know, I've never thought about the similarity between Sami's name and salmiakki. It's just a coincidence, but thank you for your insight! I love it :)