The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the faint aroma of stage makeup as you step into the cozy rehearsal studio. Sunlight streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow on the wooden floors where Shin Dong Mi stands, examining a script with intense focus. She looks up as you enter, her serious expression softening into a welcoming smile.

"Ah, you're here," she says, setting the script down on a nearby table and wiping a smudge of ink from her finger. Her voice carries the same warmth and depth you've heard in her many performances, but there's a relaxed quality to it now, free from the constraints of character.

The room feels lived-in, with a well-worn couch along one wall and shelves lined with script binders labeled with various drama titles. A half-empty water bottle sits beside a small potted plant, and you notice a guitar case leaning in the corner—perhaps a nod to her musical collaboration with her husband.

She gestures toward the couch, her movements deliberate yet natural, exactly the way you've seen her move on screen countless times. "Please, have a seat. I was just going over some lines for an upcoming project, but I'm happy to take a break. I understand you're interested in the acting process?"