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"Hello, hello, is anyone there?" Grace screeched at the top of her lungs. 

She desperately needed her vice, so when she spotted the Little Hollow, a new "bar" opened a little over a week ago, her heart jumped slightly.

It was an ungodly morning hour, far too early for bars in her area to be open. She was initially perplexed, but her need for something over 20% was burning in her heart. 

Her skin started to crawl at the thought of not being slightly drunk as she crawled into her 9 till 5. Though that was in little over 3 hours. She was running out of time. 

The Little Hollow was a strange petite bar; she had visited a lot of bars but not one relatively so narrow and oddly decorated.

It smelt pleasant; an earthy, spa scent filled the air, and it was pungent or overwhelming. It was just right. 

While most she'd been to were dimly lit, futuristic places, loud music and tipsy bystanders offering an unpleasant experience, one she only indulged in for a drink and several bad choices.

The bar itself was a narrow, hardwood oak counter, finished with a layer of iridescent resin; she remembered it vaguely from the sweet shop it had been formerly.

The bar stools were many different colours: moss green, coral orange, moody purple and baby pink. They were shockingly pristine; then again, they had only been open a week or two; give it another two, and they would be stained with bodily fluids. 

The downstairs was open and airy; the well-lit but not blinding hanging lights gave it a cosy feel, while the hanging fairy lights added a roomy feel. 

The windows lining the top of the room allowed air to move freely both in and out, and the light interior, made of an even lighter oak wood, made it all the more welcoming. 

Grace felt uncomfortable and out of place; she was too used to the hustle and bustle of a busy club or the strong smell of a bar to process what she was experiencing. 

She awkwardly glided to a bar stool and surveyed her eerily quiet and empty surroundings, like a deer surveying a garden and the weird things humans placed in it. 

It felt foreign. 

The fact there was an upper floor frightened her even more; she leaned back on her chair to peer upstairs, and she could hear two people calmly chatting with one another. 

Already feeling out of her depth, she rummaged around her cluttered bag and dug out her phone, taking a brief look at the time, idly wasting time looking at her lack of notifications. 

She could see something shuffling from behind the bar, something rather large and hefty; she deduced it was a dog by how it breathed and its lapping noises. 

She peered over the bar to find a behemoth of an animal casually led on a thick layer of something's fur; she didn't look long enough to find out what it was as it glared at her with its dark eyes and sharp muzzle. 

It tilted its triangular face at her and whimpered. It is as if to say, "What is someone like you doing here?" It could probably smell the sweat, smoke and alcohol drifting off of her. 

It was further confirmed by a sneeze it made. 

"Palo! There's a customer downstairs!" A woman's voice suddenly shouted from upstairs. 

Suddenly, a man appeared from a door she didn't know existed; Grace didn't register what happened until she saw the outline of a door abruptly appear out of the wall. 

A rather tall, broad man walked through it, and he instantly smiled at her. He brushed himself off and tucked his blouse back into his dark jeans in an effort to look like he hadn't crawled out of bed five seconds prior. 

His fair face was blotched with freckles, and his equally fair hair curled in every direction, but the direction he desired, paired with a plunging V-neck blouse, gave the man an effeminate appearance. Grace supposed he was handsome and rather enjoyed looking at his broad shoulders.

In comparison, Grace considered herself rather plain, a carbon copy of her colleagues, with straight dark hair, a dark suit and simple makeup. She was almost always at work, and from work, she went to the bar; she didn't see the point in making herself look lovely to look like a mess 2 hours later.  

"Well, hello lovely, nice to see a new face; tell me, what's your poison?" The man greeted Grace warmly; he had a pleasant Italian accent, relatively smooth and silky. 

His warm greeting shocked her, practically stunning her to absolute silence. Maybe it wasn't shocking; the sudden withdrawal made it feel other-worldly. 

"Oh, it seems we've stunned her to silence, Didi." Palo grinned as the giant dog put its paws onto the bar; her silky chocolate coat shimmered off the lights. 

Her gargantuan paws were easily the size of Palo's hands, and her teeth were impressively white when she barked. Palo ruffled her ears roughly. "Hey, get down, you behemoth! You know Mama doesn't like you in the bar!" Palo scolded with a giggle. 

Didi was most likely a guard dog of some sort, a mixture of a German Shepherd, judging by her lean figure and a Great Pyrenees, by its impressive size and curled tail. 

She obeyed and flopped back onto her bed. 

"Oh umm," Grace finally said as she tuned back into the conversation after realising she was being spoken to. "Could I just have a G and T, please?" She asked politely and quietly. 

"Gotcha!" Palo grinned as he prepared her drink. 

He kept the same devilish grin and unnerving eye contact as he made her drink; Grace, awkward and slightly tipsy, didn't say anything, so she just sat painfully watching the wall behind him where the bottles were lined up. He referred back to them several, which were unlabeled; Grace marvelled at the thought of how sharp his memory must've been.

Her need for a drink came before anything else. 

"Let me guess, you came here because all the other bars close at this time, and you were desperate for a drink?" He guessed correctly as he served her the drink, sliding it toward her on a coaster shaped like a moon and coloured like one. 

"You guessed correctly," Grace admitted sheepishly as she took a gentle sip from the short rocks glass; she thought it a peculiar way to serve such a drink but didn't overthink it. 

She had never tasted such a spicy G and T before; it was warm but not overwhelmingly hot, and it had a strange hint of spice that erupted at the very end and a lovely citrus aftertaste. 

Before she knew it, the entire thing was gone. 

"May I recommend my favourite?" Palo suggested. 

"Yes, please!" Grace agreed enthusiastically; she hadn't had a reason to smile or feel enthusiastic in a very long time; even the best drink she'd typically have from her bar didn't make her feel so warm, nor did it look so clean and cosy. 

Palo made her his favourite suggestion; this time, it was served in a Collins glass with a red-to-green gradient and a pile of shaved ice. It smelt fruity. 

It tasted divine. Like the holiday Grace experienced in Hawaii, mainly watermelon, pineapple and peach, with a dash of coconut and a smidge of mint at the very end.

Grace couldn't quite remember how many drinks she'd had and dreaded how much the bill eventually climbed. Each drink she thoroughly enjoyed. She couldn't remember the last time she talked to someone entirely sober; Palo was enjoyable, calming and rather quite lovely to look at. Though some of that was probably customer service etiquette. 

Not that she cared. Her alcoholic satisfaction reached; she would go home and learn life choices while she consumed half a pint of ice cream; maybe she'd sleep before dragging herself drearily into work looking like something from a morgue. 

She stretched before rummaging around her bag for her card. 

"That'll be £35.50, please, though, because you are new and I rather enjoyed your company, let's say £25.50", Palo bargained as he presented her with the receipt. 

"Thank you very much! I enjoyed your company, too; I'll be back again for sure," she smiled; she couldn't remember the last time she'd done that. 

"I'm looking forward to it." Palo smiled as he pulled the card machine from under the bar. She swiped her card, and it accepted the payment. 

As she left, the sun rose over the houses, and the birds began to chirp the dawn chorus. She didn't notice the sign as she'd entered The Little Hollow. Maybe she was too tipsy to read it correctly. Her brain must've only processed the word "bar" and assumed that was what it was. 

It took her a moment to process the word that came before it, and when she did, she darted back into the bar and did something she'd later regret. 

"NONE OF IT WAS ALCOHOLIC!" She yelled as Palo turned his attention to her. 

"Not a single thing lovely," Palo scoffed.

She continued to go regardless; she enjoyed the atmosphere over anything else and Palo's presence, as well as the drinks he made. She assumed he felt the same way as he greeted Grace with her favourite beverage and a smile.