Author's note: This is a fanfic based on CATCF that I've got in my mind since the 2005 movie was released. I've published it years before, but never put an end to it. So this year I promised myself I'd rewrite it and finish it. Thank you for reading my story. I really hope you like it and I'm willing to receive some feedback, you're always welcome!
Ignite me with a gentle touch,
Or with a heart that's open wide.
Ignite me, spark the fire's flame,
That's burning bright between us.
Chapter 7
The concert was only two days away, and Willy couldn't focus on anything else. Every thought, every moment, seemed consumed by the upcoming event. His distracted behavior hadn't gone unnoticed, especially by Charlie, who was growing increasingly curious.
"What's going on?" Charlie asked one evening, his voice a mix of concern and intrigue. "Be honest. Did she reply?"
Willy hesitated, the weight of the situation pressing on him. Finally, he relented and showed Charlie the message—the invitation to the concert.
Charlie's eyes widened as he read it. "Willy, this is amazing!" he exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face. "You have to go!"
Willy groaned, looking uneasy.
"Come on," Charlie insisted. "What's the problem?"
"I don't know," Willy muttered, glancing back at the invitation on his phone, his fingers nervously tapping the screen. "Concerts… crowds… germs. It's not my thing. And you know how I feel about being in public." He wrinkled his nose as if the thought alone repulsed him.
Charlie crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "You won't be in the spotlight. Why not go as a regular fan?"
Willy raised a brow. "A fan? Me? I don't exactly blend in."
"Exactly!" Charlie replied, his tone bright with an idea. "That's why you should disguise yourself. Wear something simple, change your hairstyle—no one will recognize you."
Willy shook his head, still unconvinced. "It sounds like a lot of trouble. And what if—"
Charlie cut him off, his voice firm. "Willy, trust me. You'll regret it if you don't go. Are you really going to let this slip away because you're scared of a crowd?"
Willy hesitated, his eyes flicking back to the invitation. He felt a magnetic pull to go—to see her, to feel something more than the weight of his fame. But the idea of facing a sea of strangers made him uneasy.
"You really think so?" Willy muttered, his voice quieter now, almost to himself.
Charlie looked him square in the eye. "I know so. You won't get another chance like this."
The thought gnawed at Willy all day, even as he tried to focus on work. The idea of disguises, crowds, and what could happen if he accepted the invitation swirled in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Charlie was right.
Finally, despite his nerves and dislike of crowds, Willy made up his mind.
Stepping far outside his comfort zone, he carefully disguised himself. He dressed entirely in black, leaving behind his signature top hat and letting his hair fall into an artfully messy style. Dark sunglasses concealed his eyes—an odd choice for a nighttime concert, but he wasn't taking any chances. The fewer people who recognized him, the better.
Arriving at the theater, he bypassed the main entrance, where a bustling crowd had already gathered, and instead made his way to the back. A security guard stood watch, broad-shouldered and imposing.
Willy took a steadying breath and stepped forward. "I have a password," he said, trying to sound confident.
The guard gave him a once-over, his expression unreadable. "Go ahead."
"Salmiakki," Willy said softly.
The man handed him a pink paper bracelet and gestured for him to put it on. Then, stepping aside, he pushed open the door. "Upstairs. Last balcony."
Willy gave a slight nod of thanks and slipped inside, following the instructions until he reached a private balcony—the best seat in the house. From here, he had an unfiltered view of the stage, close enough to see every detail yet safely cloaked in shadows.
He took his seat and exhaled slowly, his gloved fingers gripping the arms of the chair as he waited. Below him, the theater began to fill, the hum of excited voices growing louder. The audience pressed in around the stage, eager for the show to begin.
A full house.
As the last seats were claimed, the lights dimmed, and the murmur of the crowd faded into expectant silence.
Willy leaned forward, his heartbeat quickening.
Any moment now.
The theater plunged into darkness, and for a brief moment, there was only silence—then the opening chords of the first song rang out, electrifying the air. The stage lights flared to life, illuminating the band as they stepped forward, greeted by a deafening roar from the crowd.
Willy sat back, observing the musicians as they launched into their first song. It was a power metal band—one he didn't recognize—but they were undeniably skilled. The rapid guitar riffs, soaring melodies, and thunderous drums filled the space with an almost operatic intensity. Obviously, Lyyli's influence had sparked his appreciation for this genre when they first met.
He smirked to himself, shaking his head slightly.That's so you, Lyyli.
After a few songs, Willy found himself growing restless, anticipation tightening in his chest. Then, finally, the moment arrived.
The lead vocalist stepped forward, gripping the microphone with a grin. "We have some very special guests with us tonight," he announced, his voice carrying through the theater. "They've come all the way from the cold lands of Finland. Please welcome my friends Matti and Lyyli from Stargazers!"
The crowd erupted, their cheers reaching a near-deafening volume. Willy's pulse quickened. His hands clenched around the armrests of his seat as he leaned forward, searching.
First, Matti emerged—a tall, blond-haired figure Willy vaguely remembered as the bassist who often sang alongside Lyyli. The man strode onto the stage with ease, flashing a grin as he took his place. But Lyyli—where was she?
The song began with a soft, haunting melody. Matti and the band's vocalist harmonized, their voices blending in a rich, atmospheric introduction. Willy could feel the tension building, his breath caught in his throat. Then, the chorus hit.
And he heard her.
Ignite me with a gentle touch,
Or with a heart that's open wide.
Lyyli's voice cut through the music like a blade—soaring, powerful, unmistakablyhers. A moment later, she appeared on stage, stepping into the light, and the entire theater seemed to ignite. The audience roared her name, their voices rising to meet hers, singing along in rapture.
For Willy, time stilled.
There she was.
More radiant than he remembered, yet still undeniably Lyyli. She had changed only in small ways—some tattoos adorned her arms, intricate designs that suited her perfectly, adding an edge to her ethereal presence. But her essence, her fire, remained unchanged.
She wore a black leather corset-style top with metallic accents, its flowing, wing-like sleeves rippling as she moved. Paired with matching shorts that blended leather and fabric, she looked striking—almost otherworldly—a vision in black beneath the stage lights.
Her voice soared above the others, carrying the weight of a thousand emotions, and as Willy listened, his heart threatened to stop.
Lyyli commanded the crowd with effortless grace. She had never sounded more alive.
Willy had never seen her perform live before—only in videos, though he had collected all her albums and DVDs—and nothing could have prepared him for this. She was at home on that stage, moving with confidence, feeding off the energy of the audience as if she had been born for it. Every gesture, every note, every glance toward the sea of fans felt natural—like she had found the place where she truly belonged.
And shewashappy.
He could see it,feel it in the way she sang, in the way she smiled between verses, in the way her voice soared like she was pouring her very soul into every note. And the crowd—oh, how they adored her! They hung onto every word, every breath, screaming her name, singing along with unbridled passion.
Willy let himself be carried away by her voice, allowing it to wash over him like a spell. It was hypnotic, unlike anything he had ever experienced. His usual overactive thoughts silenced, drowned beneath the sheer force of her presence.
Then came the final note—a piercing, breathtaking high note that rang through the theater. The crowderupted, their cheers shaking the very walls.
Ignite me, spark the fire's flame,
That's burning bright between us.
Goosebumps prickled Willy's arms.
He sat frozen, completely speechless.
The entire theater rose in thunderous applause, the ovation rolling through the space like a crashing wave. It was a moment of pure magic, and as Willy watched Lyyli bask in the love of her audience, he felt something stir deep within him.
Pride. Admiration. Something more.
She thanked the audience alongside Matti and the lead singer before slipping offstage, leaving the band to continue their set.
That was when it hit him.
She had told him to wait for her backstage.
Willy shot up from his seat, heart pounding as he hurried out of the balcony and into the dimly lit hallways of the theater. He navigated his way toward the back, his pulse quickening with every step. At the end of the corridor, another security guard stood watch, arms crossed.
Forcing himself to find his voice, Willy cleared his throat. "I was invited backstage," he said, holding up the bracelet. A different security guard this time gave him a quick glance before nodding and letting him through.
With a deep breath, Willy stepped forward, his chest tightening with anticipation.
The further he walked, the more surreal it felt. This was happening. After all these years, he was about to see her again.
As he passed by the rows of doors, his eyes skimmed over the nameplates. One read Aqua—not the right one. He kept moving. Then, a few steps ahead, he spotted another door labeled Guest Performers.
This was it.
He swallowed hard, then forced himself to knock.
Silence.
He knocked again, a little firmer this time. Still no response.
Willy frowned. Are they still on stage? Maybe waiting until the show ends...
Glancing up and down the hallway, he hesitated for only a second before finally gripping the doorknob and pushing the door open.
Stepping inside, he took a cautious breath.
And waited.
Inside the dressing room, the soft glow of vanity lights illuminated the space, casting a warm halo around the mirror. A chair sat before it, the tabletop cluttered with scattered makeup items—eyeliner, lipstick, a few brushes. A leather jacket hung neatly on a rack, its worn edges hinting at frequent use.
His gaze drifted to the couch against the wall, where a suitcase rested beside it, half-zipped as if hastily packed or rummaged through.
At the back of the room, a door stood slightly ajar, leading to an open-air section—more private, possibly a smoking area. A faint chill crept through the gap, carrying the distant murmur of voices from outside.
Willy hesitated. His pulse was still erratic, his nerves tangled in anticipation.
"I should wait for her there," he thought, glancing toward the open space."And decide if I should come out... or not."
With that, he stepped forward, slipping quietly toward the back of the dressing room.
Willy had nearly given up hope when he finally heard the door creak open. He tensed, pressing himself further into the shadows.
Matti entered first, his familiar tall frame and easy confidence filling the room. Right behind him came Lyyli.
"You're coming for drinks with us, right?" Matti asked, glancing back at her as he shrugged off his jacket.
"No," she paused in front of the mirror, checking her makeup with a distracted expression. "I've got... plans tonight."
Matti frowned, clearly curious. "Really? Who is it?"
"Never mind," her voice was firm but slightly defensive.
Matti studied her for a moment before sighing in defeat. "If you say so, sis. Just don't stay out too late, or Tero will have our heads. We've got a flight tomorrow night." He ruffled her hair in a brotherly pat before grabbing his things and heading for the door. "See you back at the hotel."
As the door shut behind him, Lyyli let out a frustrated sigh.
"Didn't he come?" she wondered, biting her lip."I can't believe it."
Shaking her head, she turned and headed toward the back door, pushing it open to step into the cool night air.
Distracted and lost in thought, she didn't notice Willy standing in the shadows, watching her.
She leaned against the railing, arms crossed, staring out into the distance. Her expression was unreadable at first, but then her shoulders sagged slightly, and a trace of sadness flickered across her face.
She really thought he hadn't come.
Lyyli's breath caught in her throat. She felt a presence—someone standing just beyond the dim glow of the dressing room lights.
Her heart pounded as she turned her head slightly, eyes darting toward the figure in the shadows. At first, panic seized her. A stranger? A fan who had sneaked backstage? Some instinctive part of her tensed, ready to scream for help.
But then... she saw him.
Even in the darkness, she recognized the familiar sharpness of his jaw, the curve of his nose, the shape of his lips.
She froze, her mind struggling to catch up with reality. After all these years, after everything, he was standing right in front of her.
Willy, too, was rooted in place. He had imagined this moment countless times, rehearsed a dozen ways to greet her, but now that she was looking at him, everything vanished.
For a long, breathless second, neither of them moved.
Then, slowly, deliberately, he reached up and removed his sunglasses.
The cool night air brushed against his face as he revealed himself, his violet eyes meeting hers.
"Willy..." she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city beyond the theater walls.
Before he knew it, her arms were around him, holding him tight, just like she used to.
Willy stiffened, his breath hitching. He had imagined so many versions of this moment—awkward small talk, hesitant glances, maybe even an argument. But not this. Not the warmth of her embrace, not the way she clung to him like no time had passed at all.
Slowly, hesitantly, Willy wrapped his arms around her, unsure of his own movements. The familiar scent of her hair enveloped him, a fragrance he had longed for more times than he could count. It was like a rush of memories—warm, vivid, and bittersweet—all flooding back at once.
"Been a while, hasn't it..." he murmured, his voice unsteady. It was the only thing he could manage to say.
"Been a while...?" she repeated, her voice rising as she suddenly broke the hug and smacked his arms. "Howdareyou? After all these years—not a single word from you!"
"Ouch! Hey—stop that!" Willy yelped, raising his hands in defense. "That's how you greet me after all this time?"
He hadn't expected this reaction, yet he couldn't help but find it amusing. There she was—so tiny, so furious, and yet so definitely her.
Willy raised his arms in surrender, a half-smile tugging at his lips as Lyyli continued to swat at him.
"Alright, alright! I get it—I deserved that," he said, dodging one of her hits, though he made no real effort to move away.
Lyyli fixed him with a deadpan stare, giving him a shiver down his spine. "You definitely deserved that!" she huffed, crossing her arms. "You vanished. Like a ghost. The last time I heard from you was when you shut down the factory. I lost count of how many times I tried to reach you—just to know if you'd returned from your trip, to find some way to contact you. But you locked yourself away, stopped writing me and became impossible to reach."
Willy blinked, taken aback. He opened his mouth to argue but shut it again. He wasn't expecting this.
"That's—wait a minute—I stopped writing?" he shot back, finally finding his voice. "That's not possible. I did write to you when I came back from Loompa Land. Many times, in fact. Butyouwere the one who never replied."
Lyyli's expression softened, her frustration giving way to confusion.
"What?" she frowned. "That's not possible. I never got anything from you."
"Well, I sent them," Willy insisted, his gloved hands gesturing wildly. "Letter after letter! And when I never heard back, I figured—" He hesitated, looking away. "I figured you were too busy or something."
Lyyli's brows knitted together as she processed his words. Then she shook her head.
"I never got your letters," she said firmly. "Andyouhad my private number all this time. You could've called at any moment!"
He swallowed, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his coat.
"No, I didn't! Well... not until recently. I only just found it in the last letter you sent me—right before I left for Loompaland. Can you believe that?" He let out a nervous chuckle, hoping it might soften her anger.
Lyyli's eyes searched his face, her frustration melting into something more complicated—something softer. She sighed, shaking her head.
"I can't believe it," she said, her tone quieter now. "After all these years..."
Willy's lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came.
Her anger melted away as she looked at him more closely. Then, with a curious tilt of her head, she asked, "So... where's your hat?"
Willy smirked. "Oh. I figured it'd be best to go undercover—blend in as a fan so no one would recognize me."
Lyyli stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Oh, Willy... you really went all in, huh? I mean, you actually put effort into your hair and clothes! I gotta say, you do pull off the metalhead look surprisingly well!"
"Ha ha, very funny!" he said sarcastically, quickly smoothing his hair back into place.
Lyyli let out an amused breath, then hesitated, searching for the right words. Talking to him again after all these years felt surreal—exciting, but undeniably strange. "So... uh..." She cleared her throat. "I read about that whole Golden Ticket thing... what was it all about?"
"Oh, that..." Willy's lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Now that's a long story." His eyes gleamed with something between pride and nostalgia. "Hey, you should meet Charlie—you're gonna like him."
Lyyli raised an eyebrow. "Charlie?" she repeated, confused.
"Yeah! He's my heir, you know."
Her eyes widened in shock. "Wait... what? You had a kid?"
"Oh no, no, no! That's not what you're thinking!" Willy quickly waved his hands, shaking his head. "Charlie is not my uh... son." He let out a nervous chuckle, glancing at her expression.
Lyyli crossed her arms, still skeptical. "Uh-huh..."
"Seriously!" he insisted. "You see, one day, I was having mysemi-annual haircut and I had the strangest revelation..."
Willy leaned in slightly, his voice taking on a dramatic edge. "So there I was, sitting in the barber's chair, minding my own business, when I saw it... a gray hair." He paused for effect, waiting for her reaction.
Lyyli blinked. "You're kidding."
"I wish!" he exclaimed, gesturing wildly. "Right then and there, it hit me—what if something happened to me? Who would take care of the factory? The Oompa Loompas?" He placed a hand over his chest as if the thought alone was too much to bear.
Lyyli tried to hold back a laugh. "So... your midlife crisis led to a contest?"
Willy furrowed his brows, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Just so you know, young lady, it was a brilliant idea! I needed someone pure, someone trustworthy—someone who truly understood the magic of candy—to take over one day. And that's exactly why I created the Golden Ticket contest and found Charlie!"
Lyyli exhaled sharply, crossing her arms with a skeptical look. "You do realize that could've gone horribly wrong, right?" she said, her tone laced with concern. "But... there's still one thing you're not telling me." Her eyes locked onto his, curiosity flashing in her gaze. "What exactly is an Oompa Loompa?"
Willy's face brightened with excitement. "Ah, that's right! I haven't told you about them yet!" He was ready to dive into an explanation when a much better idea struck him. His lips curved into a sly grin. "Wait... I've got a better idea. Why don't you come see for yourself? How about a visit to the factory?"
Lyyli blinked, taken aback. "Wait...now?"
"Of course now!" Willy gestured grandly. "No time like the present! There's so much for you to see! Besides, the factory's never closed forme."
She hesitated. "Willy, it's late, and Matti's waiting for me at the hotel—"
"Forget the hotel! Youdohave a room at the factory, you know." He wiggled his eyebrows, as if it were the most enticing offer in the world.
Lyyli narrowed her eyes. "I what?"
"You have a room," he repeated proudly. "You always have. It's still there." She stared at him in disbelief.
"Well, I mentioned it in one of the letters," Willy replied casually, giving a slight shrug. "I invited you multiple times to come visit. But honestly, I never took the room away. I always knew you'd come back eventually."
Lyyli stood there, momentarily speechless. The thought that Willy had kept a room for her all these years stirred something deep in her chest. She cleared her throat, trying to steady herself. "Okay, I guess..." Then, suddenly, her mind caught up with her. "But Willy, my flight is tomorrow night. My luggage is at the hotel, and—"
Before she could finish, Willy interrupted her with a confident grin. "Tell me the address and room number. I'll handle it!"
Lyyli hesitated, still processing the situation, but finally relented. She gave him the details—address, room number—still a little confused by everything. Willy pulled out his phone, tapped a quick message, and then slid it back into his pocket.
"All taken care of!" he declared triumphantly, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Now, how do we get to the parking lot without being seen?"
Lyyli paused for a moment, then walked into the dressing room. A minute later, she emerged, now wearing a long black coat and large, dark sunglasses—similar to Willy's. "Follow me," she said, her tone full of quiet confidence. "I know a way."
With that, they made their way out the back of the theater. The cool night air greeted them as the city lights twinkled in the distance.
"Alright," Lyyli muttered, glancing around. "Where's your car?"
Willy came to a halt, a look of utter confusion on his face as he stared at her. "Car? What do you mean, 'car'? We're going by—"
Before he could finish the sentence, he took a step forward and walked right into something unseen, making a loud thud as he collided with it.
Lyyli jumped back in surprise. "What the—?"
She squinted into the darkness and saw it. A faint shimmer, almost invisible, catching the light from the nearby streetlamps.
Willy stumbled back, rubbing his forehead with an awkward, embarrassed chuckle. "I seriously need to start paying attention to where I park this thing."
Lyyli's eyes widened. "Is that... an elevator?"
Willy straightened himself up, smoothing his jacket, then turned to her with a smug grin. "Not just any elevator," he said, stepping aside to fully reveal the strange contraption. "It's the Great Glass Elevator."
Lyyli stared at the elevator in absolute disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me."
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I don't kid about transportation."
Her gaze shifted back and forth between him and the elevator. "And you expect me to just... get in that thing?"
Willy shrugged casually. "Well, yeah! How else are we getting to the factory? You want to walk? That'll take us hours."
Lyyli exhaled loudly, rubbing her temples in disbelief. "You are completely insane."
"And yet, here you are," Willy said with a mischievous wink, as if this was all perfectly normal.
She shook her head in amazement, fighting a smile. "Fine," she muttered. "But if we crash, I'm haunting you forever."
Willy grinned broadly, giving her a mock salute. "Deal!" With that, he opened the elevator door. "After you!"
Lyyli hesitated for a moment longer, her eyes flicking between the elevator and Willy. She finally sighed, muttered something under her breath, and stepped inside.
"Wow! How many rooms are there?" Lyyli exclaimed, her eyes widening as she took in the sea of buttons on the control panel.
"Quite a few," Willy replied with a grin, glancing at the array of buttons.
The doors slid shut with a soft whoosh, and the entire elevator hummed to life, sending a small shiver through the air.
"Hold on tight!" Willy shouted, pressing a button on the control panel.
Without another word, the elevator jolted, and with a sudden rush of speed, they shot up into the sky, leaving the city lights behind them.
Lyyli's eyes widened in disbelief as the Great Glass Elevator began to ascend. For a split second, her feet left the ground and she clung to the smooth, transparent walls, unsure of whether to laugh or scream. The sensation was surreal, like nothing she had ever experienced before.
Willy, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear, clearly enjoying the moment. "Not so bad, right?" he said, his voice full of excitement.
Lyyli tried to calm her racing heart, but the elevator's swift ascent made it difficult. "This is insane!" she exclaimed, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she was actually floating inside a glass elevator in the middle of the night.
The view was spectacular. As the elevator shot higher, the city lights below grew distant, and she could see the outline of the theater getting smaller and smaller.
Willy, noticing her shock, leaned casually against one of the walls, clearly at ease. "It's the fastest way to get around the factory," he said nonchalantly. "It can go up, down, sideways—pretty much anywhere I need it to."
Lyyli shook her head in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me. This thing is like something out of a movie."
"I know, right?" Willy chuckled. "I had it custom-built. No one ever expects it."
She looked at him with an amused but still confused expression. "Of course you did."
Lyyli looked out the glass walls, watching the city shrink below them. It was dizzying, like they were moving faster than her mind could process. "I thought I knew you, Willy," she said with a small laugh, "but this is a whole new level of crazy."
Willy shrugged, unbothered. "You're just getting started. Wait until you see the chocolate river."
Lyyli turned to him, raising her eyebrows. "Chocolate river?"
"Oh, yeah," Willy grinned. "It's one of the highlights of the tour. You'll see. Trust me."
The elevator hummed softly as it ascended further, and for a moment, they just stood in silence. Lyyli glanced over at Willy. She couldn't help but smile despite herself. As bizarre as the night had turned out, there was something about being with Willy again that felt oddly... comforting.
"Why did you keep all this a secret?" she asked after a moment, her voice quieter now. "All the weird stuff, the elevator, the factory... all of it."
Willy's eyes sparkled as he turned to look at her. "Because," he said with a grin, "some things are better experienced in person. And I had a feeling you wouldn't believe me if I told you everything in a letter."
Lyyli raised an eyebrow. "You're probably right about that."
As they descended, the city lights below began to blur into a soft, shimmering glow, and the outline of the factory emerged in the distance—towering, magnificent, and almost surreal against the inky black sky. Lyyli's eyes widened as the factory grew closer. It was unlike anything she had ever seen—an entire universe in itself.
Willy tapped the control panel, and the elevator began to slow. They were almost there.
As the elevator approached, it veered slightly to the left, heading towards an enormous chimney-like structure, its silhouette dominating the skyline. The elevator began to slow, but not in the way Lyyli had expected. Instead of stopping in front of the grand entrance, the elevator slid down into one of the wide, twisting pipes that seemed to snake through the factory, hidden from view unless you were right on top of it.
"Wait, we're going in?" Lyyli asked, her voice thick with curiosity and a hint of trepidation as she peered out the window.
"Of course!" Willy chuckled. "Where else would we go? The main entrance is for uh... tourists. We're going straight into the heart of it."
Lyyli watched in awe as they plunged into the pipe, the world outside narrowing to a tunnel of shimmering, translucent blue and purple lights.
Finally, with a soft, mechanical hiss, the elevator came to a smooth stop. The door opened with a gentle swoosh, revealing a grand, dimly lit hallway that stretched out in front of them.
Willy's grin returned, bright and mischievous. "Welcome to the factory!" he said as he stepped out and waved for her to follow him.
Lyyli's mind was still racing, trying to process everything that had happened in the past few hours—standing in front of a surreal, flying glass elevator, then soaring through the air, only to land here, at Willy Wonka's legendary factory.
"Too bad we got here so late," Willy said, breaking the silence with a small chuckle. "But don't worry, tomorrow I'll show you around. You're gonna love it!"
She stole a glance at Willy, who walked beside her with a confident stride, completely at ease in this strange, otherworldly place. She still couldn't quite believe she was here. With him.
As they reached the end of the hall, Willy stopped in front of a large, intricately carved door.
"This is it," he said with a grin, swinging the door open to reveal what lay beyond.
Lyyli's eyes widened in astonishment. The room—or rather, the apartment—was a surreal masterpiece. It looked as though it had been plucked straight from an Alice in Wonderland fantasy, but with a touch of northern lights magic thrown in. The walls shimmered in soft, pastel hues, rippling like the auroras themselves. Light fixtures hung like floating bubbles, casting a warm, inviting glow. The furniture was whimsical yet elegant, with curved edges and rich textures that matched the dreamlike aesthetic of the room.
She stepped further into the room, still taking it all in, when her gaze landed on her luggage neatly arranged by the side. Her hotel suitcase, her concert outfits, even her singing equipment were all carefully placed, as though someone had taken the utmost care to make sure everything was just right for her arrival.
Willy stood by the door, watching her take it all in. "I figured you'd appreciate a place that feels a bit more...you," he said with a wink.
Lyyli stood frozen for a moment, her eyes wide in disbelief, too overwhelmed to speak. She took in the room—no, the apartment—a surreal blend of colors and shapes, everything perfect in its eccentricity. After a long pause, a soft smile spread across her face, and her gaze softened with awe. "This is... incredible, Willy. If my room is like this... I can't even imagine what the rest of the factory must look like."
Willy's grin widened, clearly pleased with her reaction. "I'm glad you like it," he said, his voice full of pride. "Take your time, get comfortable. I'll be back around 9 a.m. tomorrow to show you around. And don't worry—if you need anything, I'll have some Oompa Loompas ready to take care of you in the morning."
"Oompa Loompas... right," she gave him a playful smirk.
Willy laughed. "I'm sure they'll be more than happy to help. Get some rest, Lyyli. Tomorrow is going to be... interesting."
He gave her one last look before closing the door softly behind him, leaving Lyyli alone to explore the magical space that was now hers for the night.
She let out a slow breath, taking in the room once more. Her head was swirling with everything that had happened in such a short time. And one question lingered, pulling at the back of her thoughts, refusing to be ignored.
What the hell is an Oompa Loompa?!