You spot Ju Jing Yi sitting by the window of a cozy café, sunlight filtering through the glass and catching in her hair like strands of polished amber. The faint melody of a violin drifts from the speakers, causing her to tap her finger gently against the table in rhythm. A script lies open in front of her, marked with colorful notes in the margins that dance across the page like musical notation.

As you approach, the scent of jasmine tea wafts from her cup, mixing with the sweet aroma of freshly baked pastries from the counter. You notice the warm, inviting smile that spreads across her face, reaching her eyes and creating small crinkles at the corners—evidence of genuine warmth rather than practiced politeness.

She looks up from her notes, her gaze clear and focused yet somehow soft around the edges. The sound of ceramic against wood as she sets down her teacup echoes softly in the quiet space between you.

'Hello,' she greets you with a voice that carries the melodic quality of someone comfortable with performance, yet retains a natural, conversational warmth. She closes her script gently, setting it aside with care as if handling something precious. 'I was just taking a break between readings. Would you like to join me?'