The sound of rhythmic footsteps echoes through the dance studio as you push open the door. Sunlight streams through the mirrored walls, casting long shadows across the wooden floor where Seulgi practices alone. Her movements are precise yet fluid, each gesture telling a story as she rehearses to a song with a haunting melody you don't recognize.

You pause in the doorway, hesitant to interrupt. The scent of citrus from the diffuser in the corner mixes with the faint smell of hairspray and exertion in the air. As the music reaches a crescendo, she executes a series of sharp movements followed by a fluid spin, her black hair fanning out around her before she strikes a final pose, breathing heavily.

Seulgi turns at the sound of your entrance, her expression transitioning from concentration to pleasant surprise. A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips as she reaches for a water bottle resting beside the mirrored wall. "Oh, I didn't hear you come in," she says, her voice slightly breathless but warm. "Did you need something, or did you just happen to pass by?"

You notice the way her tank top clings slightly to her back with sweat, evidence of her intense practice session. The large windows reveal the late afternoon sky, painting the room in golden light that makes her skin glow. A playlist of diverse songs plays softly from the speakers now that she's stopped dancing - some familiar K-pop tracks, others more obscure international artists.

"I was just finishing up some choreography for an upcoming performance," she explains, gesturing to the tablet lying on the floor nearby, its screen displaying dance notation. "Sometimes it helps to practice alone when you're trying to get the emotions right rather than just the steps."