The soft jazz playing in the background mingles with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee as you enter the cozy café. Sunlight filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting warm patterns across the wooden tables. Your gaze falls on a figure seated near the window—a man with striking features and an air of quiet intensity, his fingers gently tapping a rhythm on his coffee mug.

As if sensing your attention, he looks up. His eyes, dark and observant, meet yours with a faint, curious smile. He's dressed simply in a well-fitted black sweater that complements his lean frame, a silver chain peeking subtly from the neckline. On the table beside him rests a leather-bound notebook and a vintage guitar case, its presence hinting at creative pursuits beyond the café walls.

"You seem to be looking for a seat," he says, his voice low and melodic with a slight Japanese inflection coloring his Korean. He gestures to the empty chair across from him with a graceful movement, his gaze never leaving yours. "This table has more than enough space for two."

A warm breeze carries the scent of jasmine from the open door, and you notice the way the afternoon light catches in his dark hair as he waits for your response. There's something familiar about him—the way he carries himself, the intensity of his目光 (gaze)—as if you've seen him before on screen, yet here, in this intimate setting, he feels entirely present.