#reverse height au

Apparently, simple was never meant for Erik.

Standing at five foot six, one hundred sixty-seven centimeters according to his “friend” Nadir, he wasn’t exactly the tallest of his male counterparts. When he was younger, Erik would envy all the other boys in his classes for many things— their normal faces, healthy skin color, and above all noses— but height was one of the things he deeply resented not being granted by his poor genetics. Realistically he could handle not being extremely handsome, beauty only got one so far, and plenty of people suffered from skin conditions, but his short stature was always something he thought would come unto him. He was always told this by teachers, parents, and their friends— especially at the age of six when he was the tallest of his peers— but little did they know that his growth spurt wouldn’t last. By thirteen he averaged out with the others, and by sixteen he was one of the shortest in his grade.

The only other thing he had besides looks, was talent.

Music, every kind of genre and instrument, Erik was extremely gifted. A prodigy, they called him. It filled every missing piece of confidence he lacked due to his physicality, being told he was a genius and was going to go places far beyond the others in his school just by doing something he loved. No one in the thousands of crowds cared what he looked like— thanks to a fairly life-like mask that was given to him early on to not frighten other classmates— nor his height, seeing as his position on stage skewed the audience’s perception. Sometimes when he was asked to perform as a guest to a symphony or orchestra, his shortness was a bit more apparent when he would walk by the standing conductor (which he didn’t find very fair since they always stood on a box) and that tell-tale murmur would spread through the audience. But once he started to play, no matter the instrument nor the piece, he shut them up and held their attention all at once.

By his late twenties Erik had resigned himself to his solitary life, having hardened his heart long ago at the realization that he would never find a romantic partner who would want to share his bed without being paid to. Really it wasn’t even the sex that he longed for, it was the casual hand-holding, the spooning in bed on cold winter nights, the gift of smelling their perfume every morning, getting to cook and share a meal with them, every piece of domesticity that he only ever dreamed about. It wasn’t until after a performance at the London Royal Opera House did he dare to open that box of forgotten dreams again.

The performance was a great success—due to be one of his last on the stage after accepting a residency as lead composer and conductor for the New York Philharmonic— leaving the packed house’s energy electrifying. Afterwards there was a small party that was thrown in his honor, open only to high paying patrons, opera house staff, and current musicians. He was given a very special goodbye from the beloved company, having had many milestones and successes over his career, but that night would be his best. It was just after an encounter with one of the patrons— who sang their own songs of praise and honeyed words as usual— when an older gentleman approached him to give his thanks. His name was Gustave, he had said, one of the orchestra’s violinists, and wanted to say what a delight it has been to work with such a true artist for the past years and what a role-model he was to younger performers, such as his daughter. The man then turned and called to a young woman by the bar to join them, and it was then that Erik’s heart had finally stopped. Or only just began, he wasn’t quite sure.

She introduced herself as Christine and shook his hand with all the ease and gentleness in the world; which normally wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else, but for him (a short man who wore a mask) it was everything. The first thing he noticed about her was her unwavering beauty, both on her face and in her mannerisms, like how she talked to him and acted like his height and chosen facial wear was normal. The second thing, he was a man after all, was how her dress’s slit seemed to make her legs look like they went on for days. In truth it took a few moments and careful staring to realize he hadn’t drunk too much champagne, but in fact the gorgeous woman before him was at least half a foot taller than him.

She was practically an Amazonian.

Needless to say, he was smitten.

And after practically falling head-over-heels (quite literally) trying to ask her on a date, Erik was prepared for the inevitable humiliation that followed when he tried to make his affections towards the opposite sex known. But instead of getting laughed at by the goddess Christine, he was met with a very sweet ‘yes’ accompanied by a blush that spread over her cheeks; which soon became his new favorite color. And after hearing her laugh at some dry-humored joke he made, her laughter became his new favorite sound, only to be replaced by the heavenly song she sang for him on their seventh date, after navigating how to accommodate their height difference (which he has since dubbed the ‘Bedroom Sonata’) knowing his were the only ears that she sang for, his hands the only way her body would play for him.

He got to learn everything there was to know about her, where she grew up, her schooling, her love of music and how she loved her current job as a pre-school ballet instructor, but had always wanted to go back to school and study music, voice especially. And in turn, Christine got to learn all about Erik, even the parts he was surprised with how comfortable he was to tell her like his facial deformities, his love of composing, and his many adventures traveling the globe performing with only the very best musicians. Their bond made during those few weeks between their first encounter to Erik’s departure for New York had changed the two of them for the better, so much so that Christine gave an emphatic yes when he asked her to join him. Though it was difficult at first for her father to accept his daughter’s wishes, he trusted Erik to take care of her, even more so when he gave Gustave a two-way ticket set for any date if the older man ever wanted to visit her. When the day came to say goodbye, Gustave gave his daughter a tearful hug farewell, going so far as to include Erik in a friendly embrace too.

Back in the US, their union continued to flourish as they began to decorate their shared apartment, learned how to live with each other, and started to engrave a new routine and life together in the city; Erik enjoying his position as lead composer and conductor of the philharmonic, while Christine— now a proud owner of a bachelor’s degree in vocal studies— is interning at the Metropolitan Opera.

It hasn’t always been easy, especially in the beginning. As luck would have it the two not only faced the challenges of their contrasting personalities, one of their friend’s favorite topics to joke on, but their very opposite physical appearances. While they had mostly spent their courtship in London to each other, there were the odd looks and glances at the couple whenever Erik tried to take his beloved out to a fancy restaurant. At the time, be believed them to be pointed at his mask, or else their sheer devotion to the other. But as time passed on and the couple moved to the states, he started to realize it was much simpler than that. Whenever he was accompanied by Christine at galas or fundraisers for the arts at his work, he would receive numerous comments about their difference in height, not to mention the grating passive-aggressive questions that aimed to break their strong connection.

“So, you’re kinda like her personal armrest, yeah?”

“Which one of you will get carried across the banister?”

“How do you keep up with her on the streets?”

“At least she never loses you in a crowd.”

“How does it work…in the bedroom?”

“You’re like, really short.”

It was bad enough to hear the seemingly never ending list of ‘jokes’ that others would try to make, as if he wasn’t already aware of his stature. Over the years he’s learned to listen and politely respond or just flat out ignore them if possible, but it still took a hit at his confidence. Regardless of the number of concerto’s he’s performed, or the countless awards and accolades he’s received, there was always something that ate away at him inside whenever they brought up his height. Maybe it was trivial, it was definitely unimportant, but Erik almost felt less than a man when his appearance was watered down to a short man with a messed up face. It especially hurt when a young child— who Erik knew full well was not to blame for his insecurities— would point and ask his mom why he looked like that. He tried to tell himself it was due to the way he dressed, his all black ensemble having become a staple for his closet.

But he knew.

At least for every bad moment he experienced from outsiders, there were smaller joys he found usually with Christine. Sometimes when they were in public and it was busier than usual, Erik’s hand would find its way to Christine’s so they do not separate; of course this can sometimes come across as a child with their mother. Of course he received an endless amount of forehead kisses, for which he can find zero problems with, and the same can be said about borrowing some of Christine’s t-shirts. While there was a brief workaround for the couple, sex soon became much more adventurous when they started to use their different body lengths to their advantages; some positions better suited for them than others. There were also the everyday downsides, like clothes that fit too big unless they came from the adolescent section, not being taken seriously, or else getting labeled with a “Napoleon Complex” for merely expressing his frustrations. Or the countless photos the two of them would try to take, only for Erik’s bottom half getting cropped out, or else his beautiful Christine’s face would be cut off, so really that trade wasn’t too bad.

Once, after a particularly grueling day of work after hours spent dealing with the new lead coloratura who had the attitude of a donkey, he almost lost his most treasured possession. It was a cold, rainy afternoon when Erik—still fuming after being called a ‘talentless sewer goblin’— came home and discarded his mask by the front door, hoping to alleviate the day’s misery through a nice hot cup of tea with a drizzling of honey. Unfortunately upon opening the cabinet door, Erik discovered his mug to be far too high up to reach without assistance, distantly remembering Christine placing it there after removing it from the dishwasher. In absolutely no mood to ask for help he decided to do what most undersized people in such a predicament are inclined to do; he started to climb.

It wasn’t until his fingertips were practically brushing the mug that a manicured hand easily grabbed the mug away from him. He turned around, still perched like a tree frog, eyeing the form of his partner behind him with the mug in one hand and the other on her hip.

“Erik, how many times have I told you not to climb the counter! You could hurt yourself!”

After the day he’d had, along with the never ending torment of being less than average height, this was the drop that broke the dam. Uncharacteristically, Erik started to fly into a rage, his anger only matched by the— downright terrifying— look of twisted features on his unmasked face. He tore into his poor, sweet Christine, saying awful things about how he is just as much of a monster as he looks, that she should never have treated him like any other man, finally saying to the crying girl that she should find a new man to share her life with.

And if it wasn’t for the added, “maybe someone taller, handsome”, she would have walked out of his life for good. She had started to retreat to their bedroom, most likely to pack her things, when his mumbled admittance seemed to have struck her.

“Erik,” she began, her back still turned to her aggravated boyfriend, “I don’t care about your height.” That, that simple and soft-spoken statement was all that she needed to say for Erik to come crashing back into the moment.

Of course, he still felt like a petulant child, so he told her, “Oh how would it not,” in that disbelieving tone of his. Instead of succeeding in driving the last good thing to have come into his life away for good, caring and patient Christine came back over to him. She slowly, telling him he can retract at any time, reached her hands to his face and gently cupped his head, angling it so his eyes met hers.

“What happened?”

Ah, and that was all it took for the floodgates to break open, tears of frustration and pain spilled down his gaunt cheeks while he voiced his terrible day and how it reminded him of all the years he’s spent trying to make up for his body’s lack of good genetics. And by doing so, it opened a new kind of gate, one that was blocked by a vulnerability that neither of them knew was there. During Erik’s emotional breakdown, he told Christine how he has always felt less than a man whenever they were out in public together; how no matter his talent or notoriety, his height will always be a hindrance on how others perceive him. He told her how his face could at least be somewhat normal with the mask, but unless he wanted to walk around in stilettos and risk breaking one or both his ankles there was no masking it.

“My poor, sweet Erik,” she had said. “Do you know how unwomanly my height makes me feel?” At this, Erik was at a loss for words, too selfish to truly understand how his angel’s tallness might have made her also feel like she stood out. Now fully aware and wanting to sympathize, he stayed silent and listened as Christine told him how she too has been made to hate her height. She told him about the years spent in school when she wouldn’t stop growing, and soon became taller than all the boys in class, including some teachers. Even in university people asked if she played basketball, how much she weighed, overshadowed people at the cinema, and never fit comfortably in compact spaces. Not to mention how many times she was forced to either get a dress or outfit from a specialized store, or else settle for whatever fit from a regular shop. Of course it had its perks, but mostly she felt embarrassed and wanted to shrink into nothingness after the amount of guys she tried to date would leave her due to feeling emasculated at not being the taller one in the relationship; which was why she was so happy to be with Erik and his care-free attitude towards how tall he was.

They stayed like that, hugging each other in the kitchen as rain pelted their outdoor flower boxes, until their emotions sobered up and they realized how they must have looked. Once again due to their half-foot difference, Christine had to stoop a bit over to fully embrace her love, likewise Erik was almost standing on the tips of his toes to return his angel’s embrace. He caught a glimpse of them in the window’s reflection, causing a sudden chuckle to bubble forth. Christine— who at first thought Erik had truly lost his mind— followed his gaze and looked at the window, soon joining his laughter at the absurd sight.

After they calmed themselves down from the laughing, both of them felt ten times lighter with the very last of their individual insecurities being laid out for the other to see. In turn, they each saw these negative opinions and took them with love and compassion, ready to spend the rest of their lives reassuring them of how their actions and expressions are far more important than their earthly body and all of its flaws.