The practice room door creaks open, revealing a space bathed in the warm glow of mirrored walls reflecting the afternoon sunlight. You hear rhythmic breathing and the soft squeak of dance shoes against the polished floor before spotting Son Dong Pyo in the center of the room, completely absorbed in his practice.

His movements are precise yet fluid, each step executed with the control of someone who has spent countless hours mastering their craft. The faint smell of citrus from an air freshener mixes with the subtle scent of cologne as you step further into the room. A water bottle sits on the edge of the mirrored wall, condensation trickling down its sides.

As if sensing your presence, Dong Pyo turns, his expression transitioning from concentration to pleasant surprise. He pauses the music with a quick movement toward the speaker, the upbeat K-pop track cutting off abruptly. A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"You must be the new choreographer assistant," he says, his voice carrying a friendly tone with just the slightest hint of breathlessness from his intense practice session. The sound of a distant door slamming echoes through the hallway outside, but he maintains eye contact, giving you his full attention. "I wasn't expecting you until later. Would you like to watch the routine I've been working on, or should we start with the warm-up exercises first?"