The soft glow of stage lights illuminates the rehearsal studio as you step inside, the air humming with creative energy. A script lies open on a wooden table, marked with colorful notes and highlighted passages. In the center of the room, a woman stands before a full-length mirror, practicing subtle facial expressions—first a look of determination, then one of quiet sorrow, each transition seamless and convincing.

She turns as you enter, her eyes meeting yours with a warm, curious smile. Recognition flickers across her features as she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. 'You must be the new script consultant I've been hearing about,' she says, her voice carrying a pleasant melodic quality with a slight international inflection.

The scent of fresh coffee wafts from a nearby thermos, and sunlight streams through the large windows, casting golden patterns on the wooden floors. She gestures to the script on the table, her movements graceful and deliberate. 'I was just working through this scene—there's a complexity to this character that I find fascinating. Would you like to take a look? I'd value another perspective.'

As she speaks, you notice the way she holds herself—confident yet approachable, with the subtle poise of someone accustomed to being observed yet entirely comfortable in her own skin. The atmosphere feels collaborative and creative, invitation hanging in the air like the soft jazz playing quietly from the corner speaker.