Chapter Text
Owen slowly sipped his drink, the straw lazily resting within his mouth. He stood as a stark contrast to his surrounding environment. The S.U was filled with dancing shapes, thunderous music, and dimmed yet colourful lights that created a mosaic as people passed beneath them. If he weren’t currently occupied with his job, that being watching the sound levels and helping if anything went awry, he’d be taking part in the vibrancy.
Every so often he’d glance over to the jumping green bar that taunted him with its movements. But more often than not, he found himself watching the crowd. Seeing people get lost within each other’s gaze, dance alongside each other in playful romance, or just having plain old fun.
It was a mundane experience, but one he was fine with. That is, until he was brought back to reality when a girl bumped into him as she was rushing past. When he turned around to look at her, a spark crawled up his back. She danced with a chaotic fluidity just a bit away from him, the beer bottle in her hand spilling slightly when she got a bit too giddy, and the light that bounced off of her created an almost ethereal glow. She was intoxicating.
All of a sudden, Owen’s boss appeared behind him and started scolding him about the now too high sound levels. If it weren’t for him, Owen would have made a move right then and there. However, the situation didn’t work out in that favor as he quickly moved over to the sound booth.
Miffed at his boss’s interruption, probably losing Owen his chance at talking to this “fairy girl”, he moved to a quieter and less busy part of the S.U to sit sulkingly and watch the sound levels in peace. Well, less busy for students who generally matched Owen’s stature. Right next to him, however, an entire world of dancing and partying was taking place by the smaller students of the university. Unmindful of him, just as he was of them.
They were tiny. Not an army of 4’9” students banding together to avoid getting trampled, no. Tiny people, roughly 7 cm tall. Or maybe Owen was a part of the larger group? He didn’t know, nor did it matter much. They were all having their fun, people coming together for joy. Some danced above the larger students on balconies, or on slightly lower levels that enabled them to converse easily, little floors made fully for their use. Owen didn’t engage with them much; he didn’t really have anything to relate to with them, but he did enjoy taking advantage of the fact that the main party was usually centralized.
Time began to tick by as he watched the figures below him, a spilled drink here, a falling on the floor there, the standard. That was until the “fairy girl” popped up out of nowhere, emerging from the crowd in a frenzied manner, beer bottle in hand. It almost startled him. She once again brushed past Owen completely, moving her attention to the crowd below them both, seemingly looking for someone. Now was his chance.
“Have you seen Frida Kahlo anywhere?” She quickly turned to ask him.
Owen, staring at her and off guard, completely missed the question. “What?”
“Have you seen Frida Kahlo anywhere?” She asked again, slightly louder this time.
The name sparked familiarity within Owen’s mind. “Uh, yeah! I think she was down somewhere around here,” he answered. Pointing to his right. But when they both began to peer around the area, the artist was nowhere to be seen among the rest of the miniscule crowd.
She let out a playful grunt as she turned back to face Owen, “Sorry! She always does these things! You can never find her anywhere!”
Owen let out a slight nod, a stupid grin painting his face as she spoke to him. She moved to the table below them, sitting down on it. “So do you work here?” she asked Owen, smiling at him.
“Huh?” he said, not quite getting the question.
“Do you work here? I saw you go up to the sound booth!” she said louder.
“Oh, uh. Yeah! I’m a sound engineer, so… So I work with the levels and set up,” He responded. Giddy at being able to talk to her. He couldn’t stop admiring her. She was absolutely beautiful, and her voice. Oh, her voice was just perfect.
The girl nodded, interested in what he was saying. She then peered down at his hands and pointed, “Oh, nice straw you have there.”
“Yeah…” Owen said. “It’s metal. You know, cause the turtles shove the plastic ones up their noses”
“Massive cokeheads,” she replied jokingly.
“It’s 3 quid, but if you want it, it’s yours. Drink now, a straw for life.” Owen moved the straw towards her, offering it. She looked at him with a look that Owen could remember for ages, and took it. Putting it in her beer before placing it on the table.
As they drifted through conversation, it almost felt like they were gliding through the stars. The blaring music and jeers of fellow partygoers seemed to be muffled out into a low hum, Owen not allowing anything to get in the way of the fantasy unfolding in front of him.
As if it were a fairy tale, she grabbed his hand. Together, they blended within the crowd, joining the mosaic. Song after song, they enjoyed each other’s company. Sometimes taking breaks to get a drink, or to engage in banter. Every time Owen looked at the girl in front of him, or every time she spared a glance at him, it was as if time stood still.
Eventually, they moved to a quieter part of the bar, filling the air with playful banter and jokes. Owen told the fairy girl about how he used to play in a band, yet he never got to learn much about her. Only small, passing quips about how the summer was going until she moved on to the next random topic. Before they could move to dance to the next song, a small voice broke through the music and their chatter. Below them was a small girl dressed as Frida Kahlo, adamant about her and the girl in front of him getting to a party on Canal Street.
Owen peered down at her for a second before pulling his attention back to the fairy girl who seemed to have her attention fully removed from him.
Rather abruptly, the girl apologized and then put her hand out for Frida to hop onto. When she did, the girl quickly got up and began moving, following her friend’s request. Before she fully disappeared, she turned back, asking Owen to come along. But, because of his job, he couldn’t.
“Hey! Wait! Wh- what’s your name?!” Owen said, struggling to keep up with the girl, who was now being pushed along by some other friends of hers and the crowd.
“Emily!” he heard her shout back at him. He began to slow down, peering back at the sound meter, which indicated that the music was being played at a level far above what it should. He let the name reverberate around his head, filling every crevice of his mind. He couldn’t live with just that piece of information about her.
Owen slowly moved past the partygoers, exiting the building completely. Rushing to see if he could find the fairy girl that he had been talking to all night. “Emily!” He yelled out. “Emily!” he yelled again, hoping to get a response.
Owen breathed a sigh of relief when he realized she was still there and saw her walking up to him. “I wanted to know if I could get your number? If you want to, that is.” He asked, internally praying that she’d actually give it to him. “Y-you really don’t have to. I’d just like to get it; that’s all.” Owen clenched his fist tightly as he spoke
“Yeah, sure!” Emily responded.
Owen unclenched his fist. “Are you going to memorize it or?” Emily began to question.
“Uh, no, I have a phone,” He responded as he took it out, giving it to her.
He watched as she typed the digits into his phone. Each button press filled him with giddiness. The way her fingers danced across the screen, and the phone light reflected in her eyes, every detail. Her friends were in the back calling out to her, but all he could pay attention to was the figure in front of him.
She finished with a flash of her smile, and then they exchanged their goodbyes. Owen watched the girl of his dreams slowly drift away into the night. As she escaped his vision, he peered down at the phone in his hand one last time, his chest warm as he looked at the numbers. Already giddy at the thought of texting her.
Owen got out of bed with newfound energy. He danced across the room as he got ready for the day, and swung himself downstairs. Opening the door to the kitchen, he was met with the sight of his brother, Matt, and his girlfriend, Freya, who were heavily engaged in enjoying each other’s company.
Owen overall ignored it. Used to their romantic antics and far too busy as the girl of his dreams continued to fill his mind. Matt tried to ask him if he could stay at home today, but Owen quickly brushed the request off, too flustered to even consider it. He had something far more important to do today: talk to Emily.
“What. Is. Her. Name?” Freya went up to Owen, cupping his face as she spoke to him.
“Emily,” Owen mumbled. Both Freya and Matt were unsurprised at the information. If there was one thing that was predictable about Owen, it was how he acted when he met a girl he liked.
“Have you talked to this Emily?” Matt asked, predicting that the answer would be no.
“Yeah, I have, actually,” Owen said, prompting a surprised eyebrow raise from his brother. “Even got her number.” He flashed his phone to Matt before turning his attention to it.
“Have you messaged her yet?” Matt asked in intrigue
“No”
“Why?”
“It’s the next morning… I haven’t had the time,” Owen murmured to him.
“Bet you don’t have the balls,” Matt replied, taking a sip from his cup as he did
“I’ve got the balls,” Owen said as he began typing a message to her. It would be perfect; he’d reference their previous night together, bring up the small things they chatted about. It would be simple. However, when he tried to send the message, nothing happened.
“Uh…” Owen let out. “It won’t send.” Owen frantically tapped the resend button only to see the same result over and over again; nothing was happening.
“What’s happened?” Matt asked, trying to get a glimpse of his phone as he did. Owen didn’t even have the time to come up with an excuse before his brother lunged at the phone and snatched it away.
Owen immediately moved to grab the phone, but he was unable to claw it back, so he instead grappled onto his brother in desperation to wrestle it from him.
Matt, however, passed the phone to Freya, who, after a glance, discovered that the number Owen was given was missing a digit. At this discovery, Owen’s heart stuttered. He didn’t know her number, he didn’t know her full name, he didn’t even know her favorite colour. He knew nothing about this girl.
Matt’s half-hearted attempts at trying to console him were filtered out by the growing determination within Owen to find Emily.
Rushing out of the house, Owen ran onto his bike and began to cycle to the university. He glided through the city streets, heart set ablaze on finding the girl that he talked to that night.
As he approached the university, he hopped off of his bike and made his way to the student information center with a spring in his step. Sure, he was disappointed with the earlier outcome with the number, but he knew that here - here he would be able to find her.
Owen walked up to a desk containing a lady who seemed less than excited to see him coming. “I was wondering if you could help me find a student? Name’s Emily,” he asked inquisitively.
The lady continued to stare at him, burning daggers into his chest. “Emily what?” She said sternly.
“Uh… Emily please?” Owen responded, hoping that his attempt would somehow work. The lady continued to stare at him, rolling her eyes.
“Yeah, uh, so I don’t know her last name… But- but I need to find her cause I have something of hers.” Quickly thinking on the spot, he pulled out some cables from his jacket.
"Yeah, they were her dad's, but there were some things happened that got in the way, so I wasn’t able to give them back to him.” He looked at her pleadingly. She wasn’t budging.
“Listen. I met her last night and got on with her. She’s just amazing. Her hair, her eyes. She drinks beer from bottles. God, I just got to find her.” Owen let out one last Hail Mary.
The lady looked at him, clearly annoyed and used to this type of charade. “You have about five seconds to leave before I contact security.”
“Ok, ok.” Owen immediately backed off and began to leave, thinking his entire plan was for nothing. But before he fully left to begin and try a secondary tactic, he was approached by a younger man.
“You looking for Emily? I know an Emily Raine exactly like that,” he said.
Owen perked up and approached him, “Yeah, alright, where can I find this Emily?” he asked with some hope in his voice.
“She’s got a psychology lecture in LG-40,” he responded.
“Alright, thanks mate,” Owen said with newfound determination.
“Emily Raine.” His voice echoed the name within his head. His stomach knotted as he approached the lecture hall the guy said she’d be in, both excited, yet a little nervous at the same time. What if it wasn’t the Emily? Owen questioned himself, but quickly shook off the feeling. It would be her - hopefully.
Owen knocked on the door in front of him, waiting a few beats before being greeted by a professor who seemed less than delighted to have his lecture interrupted. “What is it?” The man in front of him asked.
“Uh, do you have an Emily Raine in your class?” He began to ask. “It’s about her dad; something urgent came up,” Owen ended the sentence, trying to add urgency to his request. The professor, looking clearly annoyed, turned and closed the door behind himself, leaving Owen unsure whether or not Emily would actually show up, pacing the width of the corridor in waiting.
The door in front of him, however, never opened. Instead, a smaller side panel connecting to the balcony used by the smaller students opened up; it was roughly eye level with him. There walked out a small, very small, girl.
Owen stared at her for a second, his mind sputtering when he saw her. He slowly walked up, trying his best to maintain his composure as he was approached by a girl who was barely taller than his pinky finger. “Oh, um… Is there like… Another Emily Raine in there who’s a bit… bigger?” he asked, peering at her while pulling his hands apart to show a mimicry of height. Trying to use the least condescending tone possible given the situation.
Emily ignored the question. “You have a message from my dad?” She asked with an American accent.
“Uh… Yeah… He ran into a bit of car trouble and uh…He - He’s fine and all. Just wanted to let you know. Yeah… That’s all.” Owen lied. He wasn’t even sure if tiny people even used cars here.
Emily squinted at him, nodding her head as he spoke. “Nothing about where he’s been for the last 21 years?”
Owen’s face dropped as he listened to her. “Uh, yeah, no. Sorry… No-nothing about that.” He said, trying to avoid eye contact, easy given her size.
Emily let out a small laugh as she watched him squirm uncomfortably, trying to figure out a way to salvage the situation. She leaned against the railing of the balcony before her. “So, what are you doing?” She asked with a laugh.
“I’m uh, looking for this girl called Emily, sorry. Well, a specific Emily, not you, obviously,” He said, gesturing towards her entire body. “I thought she’d be in there but-” He was about to continue, but was cut off.
“Emily, what?” she asked.
“Uh, I don’t know. See, I didn’t catch her last name so-” He began to speak, but was cut off again.
“So you’re going around and dragging other Emily’s out of lectures?” She asked, half jokingly, but her voice held a serious questioning to it.
“Uh yeah… Well, you were the first… And definitely the last I reckon… So,” He answered, slightly backing away, the conversation falling flat.
“Ok… Well, bye,” Emily said, retreating into the lecture hall to hopefully catch the remainder of her lesson, leaving Owen alone in the hallway, questioning his choices from the past 5 minutes. Not even giving him enough time to apologize to her.
He leaned his head against the wall in front of him, hitting the balcony as he did, and let out a small groan. Shame and embarrassment from the situation filled him with nothing but contempt for himself.
He needed to figure out a new plan.
Emily Raine returned to her lecture, which only had minutes remaining. Professor Westlake, a stern looking man, went over the final notes of the day before switching attention to a few remarks regarding the dissertation for the course.
“May I remind everyone that your dissertations are due in exactly seven days. It is worth a significant percentage of your final grade, and there is very little sympathy for those planning to hand it in late,” announced the professor with a voice so consuming that it was a surprise he wasn’t using a microphone. “And for those who think you will change the world of social sciences with your caffeine-fueled scrabbles, you won’t. This lecture has concluded” were his final remarks as he signalled dismissal.
In a lecture hall built to accommodate different statured students, there was an orderly chaos as everyone began filing out of the room. Those of smaller size used a series of pedestrian highways that lined the walls of the building; they were essentially elevated sidewalks that were sized proportionately to aid in the moving needs of both smaller students and faculty. It was on one of these highways where Professor Westlake stopped Emily in her tracks.
“Emily, may I have a word?" said the professor in a passive-aggressive tone, peering down at her as he stood beside the walkway.
“Yes, of course,” responded Emily, turning to face him.
“Any progress on your dissertation?” he inquired.
“No, not yet. I haven’t been able to find a case study for it yet which–”
“Is the hardest part I know,” interrupted the professor. Now speaking in a more concerned tone, he then asked, “Are you certain it was such a smart idea to attempt such a risky topic? You are a visa student, Emily. You need a first on this degree.”
“I know that I can prove my hypothesis: love is a form of self-sabotage. All I need to do is find a case study to prove it,” Emily stated, with a hint of panic in her voice.
“Emily.” He let out a tired sigh. “You shouldn't currently even be focused on a case study. You need to write your conclusion…” He paused briefly. “If you eventually find someone… don’t forget the disclosure waiver, and remember that under no circumstance should you, by the grace of god find a live case, should you ever influence them in the slightest,” prompted the professor, essentially reading out the same disclaimer to her for the hundredth time.
“Of course,” said Emily.
“Alright,” Professor Westlake said as he walked off, probably to pester another student over their dissertation.
Swiftly making her way outside, a blue sky dotted with clouds revealed itself to Emily, rather a rarity in Manchester. The campus buildings lay basking in the sunlight, with trees placed in an ornate formation lining the interconnecting paths, with people of all sizes accommodated for. While the larger students took brick paths that stretched across the campus square, smaller students had the luxury of taking a web-like series of bridges strewn above the normal walkways that were directly connected into buildings themselves.
Emily began making her way to the library, where she would have desperately attempted to figure out the subject of her case study. All in the name of not having to return to Iowa. While making her way there, she spotted two students, arms resting on the railing before them, gazing down from the elevated pathway. Curious as to why, Emily peered down to see what had caught their attention. And there, the same strange young man from earlier was interrogating the pair of students about “Emily”.
“Are you’se sure you don’t know who I’m on about?” said the young man in a defeated tone, his face squinting in disappointment.
“No, sorry, we don’t really speak to the bigger folk ‘round here,” responded one of the students with a hint of guilt in their voice. They quickly gave him a half-hearted wave goodbye and uttered “good luck!” before leaving, immediately turning their heads to each other to talk about what had happened.
As the pair moved on with their day, Emily felt an urge to question him. Quickly moving to take their position before the man could leave.
“Harassing more students, I see?” Emily yelled teasingly, now leaning over the balcony herself.
Owen, who was preparing to walk away, quickly snapped his head back up, eyes in surprise. “N- No, it’s different this time, I swear; neither of them were Emily's. Wouldn’t even make sense to talk to them if they were…” he responded.
“As if that makes it any better,” snickered Emily, almost feeling condescending by speaking down to him. Even if he was massive in comparison.
Noticing a stack of posters in his grasp, Emily asked, “Are you hanging the posters in an attempt to find her?”
“No, it’s just that, h– her num–” was all he could muster before Emily interrupted him. “She wrong numbered you, and you’re putting up posters to get her to change her mind?”
She began to feel bad for him, as he looked up at her as if she were so high and mighty. Maybe she did pity him after all, just a bit.
“No! There was a connection, I’m sure of it! She was just in a rush, that’s all,” he assured.
“Yeah, and all the colours of the rainbow shined from her as she walked past?” Emily said, cocking her head slightly as she spoke. Catching another view at the poster in his hands, she made out the word, “Fairy”.
“After a pixie girl? Well, if you want someone like that, I am sure there’s another one out there. Probably someone closer to the size description as well,” She said in a slightly joking tone, but the man below her didn’t take it as one. His brows furrowed in response.
“Huh? I don’t know how you deal with your relationships, but I’m not like that. See, what we had was real. I’m not just gonna throw it away.” Owen said, backing away and beginning to turn to leave.
And then a thought flashed through Emily’s mind; an opportunity danced before her eyes, taunting her to take it. And just as he began to leave to put another poster up, Emily shouted.
“Wait!” hoping that her tiny voice would be heard by the lovestruck man.
“What?” responded the man in an annoyed tone, turning back to face her, his brows furrowed.
“I can help. I can help you find her,” said Emily, a grin beginning to form on her face.
“How?” he responded with confusion, taking a step forward.
“Well… I’m a student here. I’m sure I could help you find this fairy like Emily; how hard could it be? Even have a bird's-eye view of the common areas!” said Emily, attempting to be convincing.
“Why would you?” he responded with some hope in his voice, looking up at Emily as if she was some saviour, taking another step forward.
“Becau– because I’m really good at these sorts of things. And I really like them too, I’m a social science student after all! Your social is my… Science” responded Emily with a welcoming tone. “Well obviously it’s not my science.” Emily quickly snapped, worried at what she just said. “It’s just… Fun” she finished off, hoping she didn’t ruin any potential chance she had.
He thought for a few moments, considering Emily’s proposition before he finally stated, “Well, it’s not like I’ve got much of a chance otherwise… Didn’t know what I was going to do if these posters didn’t work,” he said, looking down for a second at the posters before returning his gaze upward.
“Great!” responded the victorious Emily, standing over her new giant-like ally. “I’m Emily, of course. And you are?”
“Uh, name’s Owen,” Owen responded, hints of confusion lacing his voice as he spoke, not quite getting why she was helping him.
“I’m sure we’ll make a great team! First time actually working with you know… A ‘giant’” Emily said in an excited tone. Knowing that Owen, who was driven essentially insane by love, would be the perfect case study subject. Or more specifically, her key to a visa.
“Yeah… Same here…,” Owen said, not getting why the girl above him was so excited about the situation, especially the height part.
“I’d shake your hand right now… But…” Emily said as she gestured her hand to both Owen and the space of distance between them, smiling.
Owen nodded his head softly in response, “Wouldn’t even be a hand shake, would it… More like, just my finger and… Yeah…” He spoke, trailing off, not caring enough to finish the joke. Emily, passing the comment, began to speak, “So… You really don’t have any clue what you were going to do after this?”
“No… Not the faintest idea, actually,” He said. Emily grinned in response, and he gave a clearly fake smile in return. This would be interesting.