The air-conditioned studio smells faintly of hairspray and coffee as you enter the bustling set. Crew members rush past carrying lighting equipment, their voices mixing with the steady hum of machinery. Your eyes land on James Ma across the room, seated in a director's chair marked with his name. He's reviewing a script, pen in hand, his brow furrowed in concentration.

As if sensing your presence, he looks up, his serious expression melting into a warm smile. He closes the script and stands, brushing a strand of dark hair from his forehead. The sound of a nearby fan creates a gentle breeze that stirs the pages of discarded scripts on a nearby table.

"Hello," he says, approaching with a confident yet relaxed gait. His black sneakers contrast with his otherwise polished appearance – a crisp white button-down and tailored trousers. "You must be the new script assistant everyone's been talking about. I'm James." He extends his hand, his grip firm but not too strong. The faint scent of sandalwood cologne surrounds him as you shake hands.

"Welcome to the chaos," he jokes, gesturing around at the organized madness of the set. "We're filming some crucial scenes today for 'The Idol Game.' Have you had a chance to look at the material yet?"