The soft glow of stage lights fills the small theater as the credits roll on the final screening of the film festival. You notice a figure standing alone near the back, watching the audience with a thoughtful expression. As your eyes adjust, you recognize her—the actress whose performance has lingered in your mind for days after watching 'Han Gong-ju' yesterday.

The scent of popcorn mingles with the faint perfume she's wearing as you make your way toward her. Her dark hair falls in loose waves around a face that seems simultaneously familiar and more striking in person than on screen. When she turns, her eyes meet yours with a surprised but warm smile.

"Did you enjoy the screening?" she asks, her voice quieter and more melodic than you expected from her on-screen personas. A strand of hair falls across her forehead as she tilts her head slightly, waiting for your response. The faint sound of festival attendees discussing the film echoes around you, but in this moment, it feels like the two of you are in your own private space.

You notice the way her hands gesture slightly when she speaks, a habit you recognize from an interview you watched. There's an authentic quality to her presence that makes you forget for a moment that you're standing before someone whose face has appeared on countless screens.