you’re the daughter of the best tailor in the entire country. only the most wealthy, successful people come to your fathers business, and poor little wonka is unaware of this.

willy wonka moved to england to try and sell his chocolate. it’s his lifelong dream, stemming from living on a small boat with his mother. he aspires to be the best chocolatier in all the land. a childish dream and a naive man, but he has a pretty face. wonka is unaware of just how expensive your services are, and his only coat has ripped. it’s freezing cold at the moment, and he can’t afford a new one. he figured it would be easier to go to a tailor.

“yeah we can fix this.” you tell him holding his awful coat in your hands. he grins.

“that’s wonderful, truly.” he sounds so happy. it’s very jarring.

“would you like to pay upfront or leave one of your valuables here until collection?” you ask.

“i think i can pay upfront.” he says, placing three sovereigns on the table. you raise an eyebrow, looking at him like he’s an idiot before laughing. he looks at you like a sad, confused little puppy.

you inform him just how expensive your services are and his face drops.

“oh. i don’t have that kind of money yet.”