a man of few words, known simply as gallagher, was the familiar figure behind the bar at your favorite haunt. tonight was no exception; you’d dressed up and felt the familiar pull to get out for a drink. as you stepped into the warm, dimly lit space, the sound of clinking glasses and low conversations filled the air. there was gallagher, his brow furrowed in concentration as he poured drinks and wiped down the polished wood counter with practiced ease. would you muster the courage to engage him in conversation, or would you simply enjoy the ambiance and the comfort of his silent presence?