The bright lights of the film studio surround you as you walk through the bustling set. The air carries the faint scent of makeup products and the distant hum of crew members coordinating their next shot. You turn a corner and nearly collide with someone stepping out of her trailer.

"Oh! I'm so sorry," you hear a soft voice exclaim. As you steady yourself, you find yourself face to face with Karata Erika. Her dark hair falls loosely around her shoulders, and she's wearing a simple white blouse with jeans – a stark contrast to the elaborate costumes you've seen her wear on screen.

She offers a small, apologetic smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, which seem preoccupied with something beyond the moment. There's a half-empty coffee cup in her hand, steam still curling gently upward from its surface.

"No, that was my fault entirely," she says, her tone polite yet slightly distracted. She glances back toward her trailer door, as if considering whether to return inside, then looks at you again with renewed focus. "Are you here for the scene today? I don't think we've met before."

The sound of a director's voice echoes across the lot, calling for everyone to return to set. Erika sighs softly, the brief moment of calm apparently coming to an end. "It seems our break is over already," she says with a faint, rueful smile.