O beautiful soul, you're part of me—
Until my end, eternally.
Without you,
My poetry is silent.
Chapter 25
Lyyli was out on the road with Stargazers, wrapping up what had been their biggest tour yet—Timeless Tour. They'd already played shows in Japan, China, all over Europe, the U.S., and Argentina. Now, they were about to close it all out with a massive final show at Rock in Rio, in Brazil. It was the kind of moment musicians dream about, and for Lyyli, it was especially personal.
When she was just a kid—before her mom passed away—her parents had taken her to the same festival in Lisbon to see a-ha. She still remembered the way the music felt in her chest, the lights, the crowd… It had been one of the last truly happy memories she had with both of them, and it had stuck with her ever since.
That night lit a fire in her. She'd always dreamed of standing on a stage like that, of playing her own music at that very festival someday. And now here she was—not just performing, but headlining it in Brazil, where the festival first began. It didn't feel real.
Lyyli answered the video call from her room, while her bandmates were, as usual, drunk and loud, splashing around in the hotel's pool like overgrown children on summer break.
"Hey, Lyyli!" Charlie grinned. "How's Rio?"
"It's hot, and kind of surreal," Lyyli replied with a half-smile, leaning back on the hotel bed. "Have you guys seen Willy? He hasn't answered any of my calls."
Freddy and Charlie exchanged a quick glance.
"Well," Charlie said quickly, "he's been totally absorbed in some new project for Television Chocolate. It's all super top secret and experimental—you know how he gets when he's locked in on an idea."
Lyyli sighed. "I just… I need to talk to him before the concert. Just to hear him say everything's going to be okay."
Charlie's smile softened. "He'll call you, I promise. You know he wouldn't miss it. He's probably elbow-deep in candy prototypes and forgot what time is."
She nodded slowly, though her eyes still held that anxious flicker. "Okay. I'll wait. But I'm not happy about it."
Charlie tried to lighten the mood. "Well, hey—on the bright side, you're trending on YouTube."
Lyyli raised an eyebrow. "Trending? Why?"
"Here, check this out." Charlie angled the camera toward his laptop and clicked through a series of open tabs. "Look—reaction videos. Dozens of them. People can't believe your voice is real. They're freaking out over how you just switch between opera and growling like it's nothing."
Freddy signed something to Charlie, who added with a grin, "Oh, right! Also, some sources are calling you 'the most complete singer of this era.'"
Lyyli blinked. "Wait, what? That's insane."
Charlie leaned back in his chair and gave her a teasing smirk. "So… how are you holding up with the media frenzy ever since Kimi dropped the news?"
Lyyli let out a long sigh and leaned back onto her pillows. "Gosh, I wanted to kill Kimi that day!"
Charlie was already laughing. "He said it so casually, like it was no big deal!"
"I know!" Lyyli groaned, sitting up and gesturing wildly at the camera. "He drops the bomb of the year—Lyyli Rikkunen just married Willy Wonka—and then moves on like he just announced my favorite flavor of tea!"
From the moment that sentence hit the airwaves, the media lost it.
But not just because Lyyli—one of modern metal's most talked-about frontwomen—had secretly gotten married.
Because she'd married Willy Wonka.
The world's most elusive chocolatier. A man so reclusive that, until recently, most people weren't even sure he was real—or just the fictional mascot of his own empire.
The headlines exploded, trying to make sense of the impossible pairing:
"Willy Wonka: Chocolate Tycoon or Secret Metalhead?" – Rolling Stone
"From Factory to Festival: How Did Willy Wonka Meet Lyyli Rikkunen?" – The New York Times
"The Most Mysterious Man on Earth Marries Metal Icon: WHO IS WONKA?" – TIME Magazine
Fans and journalists weren't just curious—they were ravenous. How had metal's reigning queen ended up with the world's most enigmatic man? There had been zero sightings, no leaked rumors—just one accidental slip, and suddenly the entire internet became an obsessive conspiracy board.
Lyyli stayed silent. She'd expected Willy to be livid—just like she'd been with Kimi for spilling the secret. But to her shock, he seemed almost... entertained. They'd hidden their relationship initially to keep his name from overshadowing the album release. Now, with the band at the height of their fame? Nothing could eclipse their success.
Lyyli leaned a little closer to the screen, her voice soft but insistent. "Charlie, can you please tell Willy again to call me as soon as possible? Just… tell him it's important."
Charlie nodded without hesitation. "I will. Promise. He'll call you, Lyyli."
She gave him a small smile, still not totally reassured but grateful anyway. "Thanks. Really."
Turning her gaze toward Freddy, she added, "And thanks to you too, Freddy. Take care of those two, will you?"
Freddy gave her a proud little salute from his seat, making her smile again.
"Alright," she said, letting out a slow breath. "I'll try to get some rest. See you guys soon."
"Break a leg tomorrow," Charlie said. "You're gonna crush it."
Lyyli ended the call with a wave, and the screen went dark.
As soon as the call ended, Charlie exhaled and glanced over at Freddy, a mix of concern and amusement in his eyes.
"I really hope Willy shows up soon," he said under his breath. "She's on the verge of a heart attack."
Freddy gave a slow, serious nod, his expression unusually grave for someone only four feet tall.
The next day, Lyyli really was on the verge of a heart attack.
All she'd gotten from Willy was a short text—"I'll call you tomorrow, promise. You're gonna kick ass, starshine. Love you!"
Her bandmates tried their best to soothe her nerves, but they might as well have been trying to calm a hurricane. When they arrived at the venue the next day, the sheer magnitude of it hit them like a physical force—this wasn't just a stage; it was a colossus, the kind legends were made on. The main stage loomed like a temple to music itself. The rest of the band thrummed with energy—grinning, restless, feeding off the crowd's electricity.
But Lyyli?
She sat perfectly still in her dressing room, every detail immaculate: makeup sharp enough to cut glass, outfit tailored to perfection, voice warmed and ready. Yet her mind was a thousand miles away.
Willy still hadn't called.
No message. No word.
Just silence.
She sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the ceiling.
A soft knock at the door broke the silence.
"Come in," she called, trying to sound casual.
That's when the door creaked open and Jukka peeked in with a look way too mischievous to be ignored.
"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He grinned. "You trust me?"
"No," she said flatly.
"Fair. But come with me anyway."
She groaned. "Jukka, if this is another one of your—"
"I swear it's not a prank," he said, holding up his hands. "But I do have something you're gonna want to see."
That caught her attention.
"…Okay, fine. Lead the way."
He motioned for her to follow, and they slipped through the winding backstage hallways, passing crew members and the hum of pre-show chaos. They stopped near a roped-off area with just enough cover to be considered private.
Lyyli's eyes widened as she realized where they were.
"No way," she whispered.
And then—there they were.
Ghost.
The whole band moved like dark royalty through the backstage shadows, and when they spotted Stargazers, they stopped.
Papa Emeritus tilted his head with a curious smile. "Ah, there you are," he said in that smooth, deep voice. "I was hoping we'd cross paths tonight."
Lyyli laughed despite herself. "Wow. You actually know who we are?"
"How could I not?" he replied. "You're on our tour playlist. Can't hit the road without some Stargazers."
Then, with a nod of admiration, he added, "By the way, your set at Hellfest? Absolutely stunning. Operatic, brutal… you're making a hell of an impact right now."
Her bandmates were visibly trying not to squeal.
"You just made our entire year," Jukka said, nudging Lyyli.
Papa looked at Lyyli directly. "You're something else up there. The range, the power... it's rare."
Lyyli blinked. "Thank you. That means more than you know."
He stepped a little closer. "You know, I was thinking… maybe we should do something together. A collaboration."
The entire band froze like statues.
"A… song?" Lyyli asked, barely above a whisper.
He nodded slowly, a glint in his eye. "Something massive. Theatrical. Unholy."
Then, with a smirk, he added, "And gloriously satanic, of course."
Matti answered for her. "We'd be honored."
Papa smirked. "Good. Let's make it happen—after you destroy this crowd tonight, of course."
They took a group photo—Stargazers and Ghost side by side, grinning, throwing horns, frozen in a moment none of them would forget.
As Ghost disappeared toward the stage, Lyyli just stood there, stunned.
She slowly turned to her bandmates, eyes wide. "I can't believe that just happened."
Kimi practically bounced in place, flinging his arms in the air as he shouted a slightly tweaked Ghost lyric at full volume: "We're satanized!"
The whole band cracked up and shouted in unison, "We're satanized!"
As the show began, Lyyli and her bandmates vibrated with every note, practically glowing with adrenaline and awe. Even the crew members backstage couldn't help but glance over, amused by how into it they all were.
At one point, Kimi and Lyyli were headbanging side by side, screaming along to the chorus of one of their favorite songs like total superfans. Matti had to lean in and shout over the music, "Lyyli! Save your voice!"
She didn't even hear him. Or maybe she just didn't care. Her smile said it all — she was in her element, alive in the moment, every nerve buzzing with joy.
And then, as one song ended and the crowd erupted, she felt a presence behind her. A whisper close to her ear, warm and teasing:
"Satanized, huh?"
Her heart skipped.
No way.
She turned— almost afraid it would break the illusion — and there he was.
Willy. Smirking in that mischievous, impossible way, eyes glinting under the stage lights.
"Oh my…"
And then she flew into his arms.
"I can't believe you're here!" she cried as she hugged him so tightly she nearly knocked him over. She kissed his cheeks and his lips, again and again. "You're here! You're really here!"
Willy hugged her back, chuckling into her hair. "Of course I came. You really thought I'd miss watching my starshine tear it up at Rock in Rio? Ha ha! No way!"
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes full of mischief and warmth. "You know, I've been planning this since the day you left," he said. "Charlie, Freddy… and your bandmates helped me set it all up."
Lyyli blinked. "Wait. What? They knew?"
Before he could answer, Kimi said "I deserve an Oscar for not spilling it."
Jukka raised his hand from behind him. "I almost did. Twice. But I didn't. You're welcome."
Matti shrugged with a sly smile. "Honestly, we thought you'd figure it out. You're usually scary perceptive."
"Unbelievable." Lyyli said to her bandmates before turning to Willy, eyes wide and mock-offended. "And you! I was this close to having a heart attack, you know! You weren't answering my calls—I thought you'd gone full chocolate-recluse on me!"
Willy winced playfully. "Oof, yeah. I figured that might happen."
"You figured?" she echoed, half-laughing, half-scolding.
Tuomas chimed in from the side. "We had a whole debate about that. I said just one call would calm her down, but nooo—'mystery is part of the magic,'" he said, mimicking Willy's voice.
"Hey," Willy defended with a shrug. "It worked, didn't it?"
Lyyli gave him a dramatic glare… then melted into a grin. "You're lucky I love you."
"Extremely," Willy agreed, wrapping his arms around her again.
They kissed, wrapped in the noise of the crowd and the buzz of the backstage, completely lost in their own little bubble—until one of the crew members jogged up, slightly out of breath.
"Ten minutes to go on stage!" the crew member called out, flashing them a quick thumbs-up before darting off into the organized chaos of backstage.
Lyyli exhaled sharply, nerves rushing back in. But Willy gently took her hands and looked into her eyes, steady and sure.
"Hey," he said softly, "you're going to be amazing. Everything's going to be great. And I'll be right here, watching the whole thing. I'm not going anywhere."
She smiled, the tension slowly melting from her shoulders.
"I love you," he said.
Her eyes shone. "That's all I needed to hear."
She kissed him one last time, long and sweet, before turning toward the stage with a fire in her chest and a smile that wouldn't quit.
Millions of people filled the air with electric anticipation. They had waited under the blazing sun since early morning, all for this moment—to see Stargazers take the stage.
Lyyli stood behind the entrance to stage, her heart pounding in sync with the crowd's roaring chants. One by one, her bandmates were stepping onto the stage, greeted by an eruption of screams and applause that shook the very ground. The atmosphere was pure fire.
Willy stood just offstage, tucked in the shadows, his heart thudding in his chest as if he were the one about to perform. The intro of the opening song thundered through the speakers, and the crowd surged forward like a living wave.
And there she was.
Stepping into the spotlight, Lyyli looked like she had descended straight out of a myth—gorgeous, radiant, powerful. Her outfit shimmered under the stage lights, her long hair whipping in the breeze from the stage fans, eyes burning with fire. She walked to the front, arms opened, like she owned the universe, and in that moment, she did.
The audience lost it—screaming, crying, jumping. Willy felt his throat tighten and his eyes sting. She was magnificent. A goddess on stage. And she was his.
"Go get 'em, starshine," he whispered to himself, grinning like a madman.
They owned it. She owned it.
Her voice and Matti's synced perfectly, every harmony landing like a punch to the chest. The instruments were a force of nature. And the crowd? Hypnotized. Sometimes, it was hard to hear her over them—they sang every word back like a chorus of worshippers. And when Lyyli spoke in Portuguese between songs, the stadium exploded. No one had expected it, but of course—she'd learned it from her mother.
And man… she was sexy.
Everything she did on that stage was electric. It wasn't just the music—it was the presence. The attitude. She was a rockstar in every atom of her being, and the crowd would have done anything she asked.
Willy stood frozen, heart pounding, staring at her like a man caught in a dream.
How was this real? How had he—of all people—ended up married to her?
"Damn. I love this woman more than sharks love blood," he thought, dazed and in awe.
In that moment, he felt like the luckiest, happiest man alive.
At some point the concert seemed to have ended. The band had disappeared from the stage, leaving the crowd buzzing, chanting, begging for more.
"Stargazers! Stargazers!"
The stadium thundered with voices.
But then—lights dimmed, smoke rose, and a familiar melody began to play.
The encore.
From G to E Minor.
Willy's heart skipped a beat. He hadn't known they would play that one.
Lyyli stepped into the light again, quieter now, no fists in the air this time.
As she began to sing, Willy could feel it—every word, every note. She was emotional. He could tell she was holding herself together, fighting back tears.
She was singing to him, and the whole world was listening in.
The crowd, already high on adrenaline, fell into a hush. The cameras caught fans swaying, singing through tears, arms raised as if reaching out. Some clutched their chests. It wasn't just a song—it was a moment, one that would be replayed and remembered for years.
And when she reached the end—that final note…
It soared like lightning across the sky. High. Clear. Fierce. Full of everything she felt. Love, longing, passion. She poured everything into it.
And Willy? He couldn't move.
He just stood there, completely undone. Pride. Love. Awe. Desire. Everything hit him all at once.
He was so damn proud.
So deeply, stupidly, head-over-heels in love with her.
And all he wanted now was to meet her backstage, grab her by the waist, kiss her breathless, hug her tight, and not let go. Take her back to the hotel. Tell her again and again how incredible she was. How lucky he felt. How much he adored her.
Until morning.
And that's what he did.
The next morning, Lyyli woke up feeling wonderful. Her body still hummed from the electric energy of the concert, but more than that—she had never felt happier.
Willy lay beside her in the warm, quiet glow of the hotel room, both of them wrapped in the peaceful stillness of morning. Their bare bodies lay beneath soft sheets, tangled together.
"Good morning, my starshine," Willy murmured, his voice low and tender.
She smiled, brushing her fingers gently through his tousled hair. "I still can't believe you're here," she whispered. "I didn't think I could ever be this happy."
He met her eyes, a soft gleam in his. "Neither did I," he said, lacing his fingers through hers—the same hands that wore their engagement rings. "And nothing in this world could ruin that. Not now. Not ever."
"I love you," she said, her voice barely above a breath.
"I love you too," he answered without hesitation, before leaning in.
They kissed—slow, deep, and full of everything they felt. And as the world outside kept spinning, they stayed right there in their little universe, wrapped in each other.
After a while, she rested her head against his chest and asked, "So… when do we go back to the factory?"
Willy gently ran his fingers through her hair and said, "I was thinking… maybe we could stay a few extra days. Just enjoy Rio, you and me."
She pulled back slightly, her eyes lighting up. "Like a second honeymoon?"
He grinned. "It could be."
She laughed softly, leaned in, and kissed him again. "Best idea ever."
They knew this happiness was real. And they knew it would last.
Because life, right now, had never been sweeter.
The End.