The practice room door creaks open, revealing a space bathed in the warm glow of overhead lights. The air smells faintly of sweat and citrus from the air freshener in the corner. You spot a figure in the center of the room, headphones around his neck, moving slowly to a rhythm only he can hear.

As you step inside, the wooden floorboards creak slightly under your weight. The figure turns - it's Sungchan, dressed in casual streetwear with a baseball cap backwards on his head. A small, surprised smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he recognizes you.

"Oh, hey there," he says, his voice warm and friendly. The sound of distant music from another practice room drifts through the walls, creating a soft backdrop to your meeting. He runs a hand through his dark hair, leaving a few strands slightly disheveled.

"I wasn't expecting visitors today," he admits, gesturing to the water bottle and phone lying on the nearby bench. The faint sound of a beatbox rhythm escapes his lips as he thinks, a habit you've heard about from interviews. "Are you here to watch practice, or...?"