If you believe in Nosferatu
And things outside of what we know
If you call out then he may come for you
And he will never let you go

- Supla

Chapter 16

Lyyli sat by the window in the library, her mind racing with thoughts of her plan. "Willy," she said, her voice steady, "Tero's weakness is money. That's why I have to release the best album of Stargazer's career. He'll see the potential profits and won't be able to resist. Once he realizes how much he stands to gain, we'll expose him for who he really is.

Willy's eyes widened, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "Hey... I like that! It's brilliant!" he exclaimed. He had been worried when he saw her anger, but now he admired her strategy. It was clever and, most importantly, fair.

"But first," Lyyli continued, her expression shifting slightly, "There's still one thing I need to check." She didn't elaborate, leaving Willy in suspense as she stood up and left the library.

"What is it?" he asked but she didn't reply. He watched her go, a mix of admiration and curiosity swirling within him.

"Are you seriously going to leave me here without knowing what happens next?!" he called after her, but she was already hurrying to her bedroom.

Once inside, Lyyli closed the door and turned on her laptop. She needed to reach out to Matti, her trusted ally.

Lyyli called once. No answer.

She called again. Still nothing.

By the fifth time, the line finally clicked, and a groggy voice grumbled, "Lyyli... what the hell? Do you know what time it is?"

"I don't care," she said, her tone urgent. "Wake up. I need to tell you something."

Matti let out a slow, frustrated sigh. She could hear the rustling of sheets as he sat up. "This better be important."

"It is," she assured him. "Listen carefully—Willy found out the truth about Tero."

Matti, still half-asleep, frowned. "What do you mean, the truth?"

"He's been stealing from us, Matti," she said, her voice cold with barely restrained anger. "Skimming money off the band for years."

Silence.

Then, suddenly, Matti was wide awake.

"Come again?" His voice had lost all trace of sleepiness.

"Tero's been lying to us. Taking money from Stargazer's earnings—more than we ever realized. Willy went through the finances, checked everything. The numbers don't add up."

Matti exhaled sharply. "Wait—how the hell did Willy Wonka even figure this out?"

Lyyli sighed. "He had some of his Oompa Loompas do the hacking and spying."

Matti blinked. "His what?"

"It doesn't matter," she said quickly, brushing past the topic. "Listen, Matti. I need you to focus now. We need to make Tero pay for it!"

More silence.

Then Matti swore, loudly. "That bastard. That lying bastard. I knew something felt off, but this? Are you telling me he's been robbing us this whole time?"

Lyyli could almost hear his pulse quickening through the phone.

"Yes," she said. "For years."

Matti let out another harsh curse. "How much?"

"A lot," she said grimly. "Enough that if we had known earlier, things might've been different. We could've had more for our tours, for our equipment—for ourselves."

Matti's breathing turned heavy, the sound of pacing filtering through the line. "I swear I'm going to kill him."

"Not yet," Lyyli said sharply. "I need you to stay calm. We can't act on this now."

Matti let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Lyyli, what the hell? His hands are already in the damn cookie jar. What more do we need?"

Lyyli took a breath and said firmly, "Matti, you cannot tell the others yet."

"What? Why the hell not?"

"Because if you do, they'll kill him before we even get the chance to expose him properly," she said. "And then this entire plan will fall apart."

Matti exhaled sharply, still furious but understanding the logic. "Damn it... you're right. If they find out now, they'll tear him apart before we can make it public." He groaned, rubbing his face. "Fine. I won't say a word. But we have to make this bastard pay."

"There's something else," Lyyli said. She hesitated for just a second before adding, "I think he kept my letters."

Matti paused. "Your what?"

"The letters I sent to Willy," she clarified. "The ones he never got. And the ones he wrote to me."

A deadly silence followed.

Matti's voice, when it finally came, was lower, more controlled—but it carried a dangerous edge. "You're telling me... that on top of stealing from us, he also intercepted your letters?"

Lyyli swallowed hard. "That's what I think. After all, he's also responsible for the band's mail."

Matti exhaled sharply through his nose, like a bull ready to charge. "But why? Why would he do that? What the hell did he gain from keeping you two apart?"

"I don't know," Lyyli admitted, frustration creeping into her voice. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

Matti was quiet for a moment, then spoke again, his tone more thoughtful, calculating. "Maybe he knew."

"Knew what?"

"How smart Willy Wonka is," Matti said. "Maybe Tero realized from the very beginning that if you two remained close, he'd see through his bullshit in an instant."

Lyyli's breath caught. The idea made too much sense.

"Tero kept us apart on purpose..." she murmured, the pieces falling into place. "He must've known Willy wouldn't just go along with things blindly. He would've asked questions, started looking into things."

Matti scoffed. "Yeah, and now look—Wonka dug through everything and caught him red-handed. Tero must've known this day would come. He just tried to delay it as long as he could."

Lyyli clenched her jaw. "Well, his time is up."

Matti smirked. "Damn right."

She took a deep breath. "That's why I need you to do something for me. I need you to go to Helsinki. Tero's office. If he kept those letters, they'll be there."

Matti scoffed. "You're asking me to break into his office?"

"The building is empty," she pointed out. "The lockdown works in our favor. No one will be there to stop you."

He let out a dry chuckle. "Right. And if there's a locked cabinet? Do I magically wish it open?"

Lyyli smirked. "I have faith in your resourcefulness."

Matti groaned. "I hate you."

"No, you don't," she said smoothly. "I know you'll do this for me."

He was quiet for a moment, then let out a reluctant sigh.

"Fine," he muttered. "But you owe me a drink after this."

Lyyli let out a small breath of relief. "Deal," she said. "Just don't get yourself arrested, okay?"

"Right. Because sneaking into a locked office at night doesn't scream suspicious at all," he said dryly. "You really owe me a drink."

Lyyli chuckled despite the weight of the situation. "A bottle, if you pull this off."

Matti sighed, but there was determination in his voice. "Alright. I'll figure something out. But what if he already got rid of the letters?"

Lyyli hesitated. That was a possibility—one she didn't want to think about.

"Then at least we'll know," she said finally. "But if he kept them, Matti... if he kept them, that means he never thought we'd find out. And that's leverage."

Matti exhaled. "Yeah. You're right. Alright, I'll do it."

"Be careful," she said, a quiet but firm warning.

"Always," he replied. "I'll call you when it's done."

The call ended, and Lyyli sat there for a moment, gripping her phone tightly. She had set things in motion. Now all she could do was wait.

And if Matti found those letters, Tero wouldn't just lose the band—he'd lose everything.

"Lyyli, come on!" Willy sighed, stepping closer. "You told me yourself after I showed you the proofs that parasite deserves to have his reputation burned to the ground. So why aren't you doing that right now?"

Lyyli looked at him, her gaze steady but unreadable. "Because I need to be 100% sure before I do this."

"Sure about what?" he pressed.

She hesitated for half a second—just enough for him to notice. "Something," she said vaguely, turning back to him.

Willy groaned. "Oh, come on, Lyyli. You can't drop hints like that and not explain! What do you still need to confirm?"

Lyyli exhaled slowly. "I will tell you," she said. "But not yet."

He narrowed his eyes. "You don't trust me?"

She gave him a small, tired smile. "I do trust you. That's why I'm asking you to trust me."

Willy huffed, crossing his arms. He hated waiting. He hated secrets. But he knew Lyyli—if she was holding back, it was for a reason.

Still, he had a bad feeling.

"Fine," he muttered. "But when the time comes, promise me you won't keep me in the dark."

Lyyli's expression softened, and instead of just saying it, she lifted her hand and offered her pinky finger. "I promise," she said.

Willy blinked at her, then huffed. "You know this isn't fair," he grumbled, but he hooked his pinky around hers anyway.

"You always say this is the most powerful promise in the world," Lyyli reminded him with a small smirk.

"Yeah, yeah," Willy mumbled, his irritation still lingering, but the gesture eased it a little. He might not like waiting, but he couldn't bring himself to doubt a pinky promise.

Meanwhile, from across the Chocolate Room, Mrs. Bucket watched them with a fond smile. The sight of Willy—laughing, talking, trusting someone—filled her with warmth.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned to see Dr. Wonka approaching, hands in his pockets. He followed her gaze, watching the two by the river of chocolate.

"It's good to see him like this," Mrs. Bucket murmured. "He's so much happier since she arrived."

Dr. Wonka nodded slowly. "Yes," he said, though there was a weight to his voice.

She glanced at him, sensing there was more behind his tone. "Dr. Wonka, you sound... concerned."

For a moment, he didn't answer, his gaze lingering on his son. Then, finally, he exhaled. "I know Willy is happy," he admitted. "But that's what concerns me."

Mrs. Bucket turned fully to face him, understanding flickering in her eyes. "You're worried about when she has to leave," she said gently.

Dr. Wonka nodded. "Yes."

A silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant hum of the Chocolate Room's waterfalls.

"He's never had something like this before," Dr. Wonka added after a moment. "A connection like this. And I don't know how he'll handle losing it."

Mrs. Bucket looked back at Willy and Lyyli. She saw the way they gravitated toward each other so naturally, how Lyyli brought out something lighter in Willy, something she hadn't seen in him before. She understood Dr. Wonka's worry. Because she wasn't sure how Willy would handle it either.

As days passed, Lyyli did her best to push the thought of the letters to the back of her mind. The unanswered questions swirled around her, but she refused to let them consume her. Instead, she threw herself into her music, completely immersing herself in the process.

Each morning, she arrived at the studio before the sun had even fully risen, eager to get to work. As she sang through fatigue, through the ache in her throat, through the heavy weight in her chest, she couldn't avoid but pouring a piece of her soul into each note.

The Oompa Loompas were often nearby, watching with concern as she pushed herself harder and harder. They intervened more than once, offering water, urging her to rest, but Lyyli's determination overruled them. "Just one more take," she would insist, her eyes burning from exhaustion but filled with a fire she hadn't felt before.

Despite her physical limits, she couldn't deny the satisfaction she found in the process. She was giving everything she had. And as each track took shape, she felt herself becoming more confident, more sure of her purpose. It wasn't just an album—it was her statement, her declaration. She'd never felt so alive in her art, so determined to make this album the best thing she had ever done. The exhaustion could wait. Right now, she was focused on creating something that would change everything.

Meanwhile, Willy watched as Lyyli pushed herself, and while part of him admired her drive, another part of him was deeply worried. He had seen that kind of determination before—felt it in himself. It was the same feverish need that gripped him when inspiration struck, when an idea burned so brightly in his mind that sleep, hunger, even the world itself faded away. When he was like that, nothing could pull him back until he had brought his vision to life.

And that was exactly what he saw in her now.

It unsettled him.

"Alright, I think that's enough for today," he finally said, breaking into the studio before she could press on.

Lyyli barely turned to look at him, shaking her head. "Just one more, Willy. I can do better."

He sighed, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. "You sound just like me, you know that?"

That made her pause. She glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "How so?"

"That," he pointed at her—at the fire in her eyes, at the way she was gripping the mic stand like they were the only thing anchoring her. "That relentless need to get it right. To push until there's nothing left. Until you're collapsing and someone has to carry you out."

The Oompa Loompas nodded in unison, signaling their agreement with their boss.

Lyyli chuckled, though it came out weaker than she probably intended. "And I suppose you'd know all about that?"

He smirked, but there was no amusement in his eyes. "Better than anyone." His expression softened. "You can't imagine how many times Charlie and the Oompa Loompas had to carry me out of the Inventing Room before I collapsed there."

She sighed, leaning against the microphone stand for just a second. Just long enough for him to see past her stubbornness.

"One more take," she said again, but this time, her voice was quieter. Less convinced.

Without warning, Willy grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her out of the studio. "That's it," he said with a teasing grin.

She yanked her arm back, frowning. "Willy, stop!" But he was already walking briskly, dragging her along with him. She stumbled slightly, trying to keep up.

"Let me go!" She tried to pull away, but he only tightened his grip.

When they reached the door, he quickly locked it, blocking her from going back inside.

"Give me the key!" she demanded, eyes narrowed in frustration as she reached for it. But Willy, with a mischievous gleam in his eye, held the key high above her head, well out of her reach. She jumped, trying to grab it, but he just laughed, clearly enjoying the power he had over her.

"Not a chance! Ha ha!" he teased, stepping back as she gave him an exasperated look.

"Give it to me!" she insisted, now trying to reach it by jumping higher, but he was already having too much fun with this game.

With a swift motion, he tossed the key to an Oompa Loompa. Before Lyyli could even react, the small figure vanished, key in hand, leaving her standing there, fuming.

"Hey! This is practically a conspiracy!" Lyyli protested, putting her hands on her hips.

Willy chuckled, finding her both adorable and amusing when she was mad. "Guess you'll just have to live with it."

At that moment, Charlie arrived, raising an eyebrow at the scene before him. "Whose conspiracy?" he asked, looking between the two.

Lyyli immediately turned to him, pointing an accusatory finger at Willy. "He dragged me out of the studio!" she huffed.

Charlie snorted, crossing his arms as he took in the situation. "Hah! That's rich, coming from you," he said to Willy. "I've lost count of how many times I had to do the same thing to you in the Inventing Room." He chuckled. "And you whined just as much as she is now."

Willy scoffed, feigning offense. "I did not whine."

Charlie gave him a deadpan stare.

Willy sighed dramatically. "Okay, maybe a little." Then he turned back to Lyyli, his expression soft but firm. "It's for your own good."

Lyyli crossed her arms, still looking displeased but no longer fighting him on it.

"Alright, how about this? Let's go watch a movie—get our minds off work for a bit." Charlie suggested.

Willy perked up at the idea, his face brightening. "Hey," he said, "what a good idea. Yeah!"

Lyyli let out a sigh, still reluctant but knowing she had lost this battle. "Fine," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "But I'm picking the movie."

Charlie and Willy exchanged amused glances, both knowing that was a fair trade.

The three of them sat in the movie theater room, surrounded by plush seats and a massive screen. Lyyli glanced around before shooting Willy a sarcastic look. "Of course, you'd have a giant movie theater room."

Willy shrugged, completely unfazed. "The factory still has too many empty rooms. I have to fill them up somehow." He gestured around. "Besides, there are a lot of Oompa Loompas here—I had to accommodate them all for movie nights."

Charlie, sitting beside Lyyli with Willy on her other side, watched as she scrolled through the tablet, browsing the selection. "What do you feel like watching?" the boy asked.

Willy smirked knowingly. "I bet it'll be a horror movie."

Lyyli grinned. "Back when we were touring, the band and I always watched horror movies together." She glanced at Charlie with mock concern. "But I wouldn't want to scare you."

Charlie scoffed. "I wouldn't be afraid!"

Willy chuckled, nudging him. "Sure, sure. Just don't go hiding behind the popcorn."

Ignoring them, Lyyli smirked and handed the decision to Charlie. "Alright, you pick. Choose the one with the scariest poster."

Charlie scanned the options before finally pointing at a selection. "This one—Nosferatu."

Willy and Lyyli exchanged glances.

Willy raised an eyebrow. "Really? That one?"

Charlie frowned. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

Lyyli hesitated. "Well... it's a classic. But, uh..." She trailed off, then sighed. "It's kind of funny at times."

That only made Charlie more intrigued. "Now I have to see it."

As the opening titles of Nosferatu began to roll, Lyyli leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. "This isn't really my type of vampire movie," she muttered.

Willy smirked, glancing at her. "Oh, I know. You'd much rather be watching Interview with the Vampire."

She shot him a sideways look but didn't deny it. Charlie, meanwhile, looked between them, already amused. "So how do you like vampires?"

Lyyli huffed. "I like my vampires with style."

Willy smirked. "You prefer your vampires spending two hours dramatically whining about eternity in fancy lace shirts."

Lyyli elbowed him. "Shut up, Willy. You like Anne Rice too."

From the rows behind them, a few Oompa Loompas let out a sharp "Shhh!" in unison, clearly unimpressed with their chatter.

Lyyli and Willy exchanged glances before begrudgingly falling silent. At least for a few minutes.

Charlie, meanwhile, was actually enjoying the movie, fully absorbed in the eerie atmosphere. But out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lyyli and Willy shifting in their seats, clearly bored, both visibly holding themselves back from making any sarcastic comments. It was only a matter of time before one of them cracked.

The moment Nosferatu appeared on screen, Lyyli and Willy lost the battle with their self-control. They started giggling quietly, exchanging glances like kids misbehaving in class.

Willy leaned closer to Lyyli and whispered something in her ear. Whatever it was, it made her stifle another giggle, covering her mouth as her shoulders shook.

Then, when Nosferatu showed up in a supposedly terrifying scene—Charlie completely engrossed in it—Willy and Lyyli couldn't hold back anymore. Despite their best efforts to hush each other, muffled laughter escaped them, growing louder by the second.

"Oh no, look out, he's slowly approaching," Willy mocked under his breath.

Lyyli snorted. "Terrifying. Truly."

Before they could spiral any further, an Oompa Loompa responsible for the movie appeared out of nowhere, shining a lantern at them like a strict usher. "Out."

They froze before bursting into laughter again. "Oh, come on!" Willy protested.

"We weren't that loud!" Lyyli added, but neither of them was really fighting it—they were having too much fun.

Still laughing, they got up, playfully shoving each other as they made their way to the exit. Willy called back to Charlie, "Hey Charlie, try not to wet your pants!"

Charlie just rolled his eyes and waved them off, watching as they left, doubled over in laughter, leaning on each other just to stay upright.

He smirked to himself. Their energy was so in sync, it was almost scary. If dealing with Willy's chaotic personality was already a challenge, he could only imagine how much worse it was with another person just as chaotic as him.

Out in the hallway, Willy and Lyyli were still laughing, wiping away tears of amusement.

"I can't believe we got kicked out of Nosferatu," Lyyli snorted, leaning against the wall to catch her breath.

Willy grinned. "Yeah, that's a new low. Even for me."

Lyyli smirked. "You're a bad influence."

"Me? I am the bad influence? Excuse me, miss 'Let's mock a horror classic and get thrown out'?"

She crossed her arms, still smirking. "Oh, please. You were whispering jokes in my ear the entire time."

"And you were the one giggling like a schoolgirl." Willy shot back playfully.

Suddenly they heard a bip from Lyyli's phone. With a heavy sigh, she pulled it away from her pocket. She quickly glanced at the screen, her face falling from its soft flush to something darker.

"What is it?" Willy asked, sensing the change in her mood.

Lyyli's expression was unreadable at first, her eyes scanning the message, but as she read, her face turned to a deep, fiery red. She cursed under her breath in Finnish, her words sharp and full of anger.

Willy blinked, taken aback by the intensity of her reaction. "What's wrong?" he asked, his tone shifting to concern.

Lyyli's grip on the phone tightened, her knuckles going white. "That motherfucker..." she muttered, barely keeping her voice steady. "He stole our letters, Willy. He intercepted them before they could even reach us."

Willy's face hardened, his jaw tightening. "Wait, what?!"

Lyyli quickly filled him in. "The letters... the ones I wrote to you and the ones you wrote to me. Tero has control over the band's mail and managed to intercept them. I asked Matti to sneak into his office, and... I was right. He's been holding onto our letters for years."

Willy's anger surged like a wildfire, his hands balling into fists. "That thief!" he snarled, venom dripping from his words. "Leech Lord! How dare he—"

Before he could unleash the full fury of his frustration, Lyyli stepped forward, her hands gently resting on his arms. "Willy, take a breath," she said softly, her voice a calming balm against the storm. "I get it. I'm furious too. But we've got all the evidence we need."

Willy paused, taking a deep breath as Lyyli's steady gaze grounded him. The burning heat of his rage slowly began to ebb. She continued, her tone reassuring, "But first, I need to finish the album. Once that's done, we'll take care of Tero."

"Okay," he said, his voice calmer now. "But you're not going back to the studio today."

"God, no," she replied, crossing her arms. "I'm way too pissed off to record."

A short silence stretched between them. Finally, Lyyli spoke.

"Matti has the letters. He is going to send them to you."

Willy's expression tightened, but he nodded. "Good. That's nice."

Just then, the theater door creaked open, and Charlie emerged, stretching and blinking when the cool air hit him.

"So, what did you two do while I was at the movie?"

Willy quickly answered, his mind scrambled for an excuse. "Oh... nothing. Just... You know. Business." He provided a half-smile, hoping it would do.

Lyyli quickly replied in a smooth but just too casual tone. "Yeah, just catching up on things. You know how it is." She waved a hand dismissively and made it sound like the first few minutes had been nothing but empty chit chat.

Charlie raised an eyebrow in skepticism and glanced back and forth between the two of them. "Right. Business."