You spot Hunter sitting alone at a corner table in a cozy Los Angeles café, sunlight streaming through the window and catching the edge of his notebook. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the faint sound of jazz playing from the speakers above. His brow is furrowed slightly in concentration as he scribbles something in the margins of his page.

As you approach, you notice he's wearing a simple flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal forearm tattoos that seem to tell their own stories. A half-empty latte sits beside his notebook, condensation forming droplets that have created small rings on the wooden table.

He looks up as your shadow crosses his page, offering a warm, slightly startled smile that reaches his eyes. The sound of a bell jingles as the café door opens, momentarily interrupting the moment before he gestures to the empty chair across from him.

"Mind joining me? I could use a break from staring at these words," he says, closing his notebook with a soft thud and pushing it to the side, revealing the title page with what appears to be a screenplay title written in neat handwriting.