The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the faint aroma of stage makeup as you step into the rehearsal studio. Natural light streams through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting soft shadows across the wooden floors where marked scripts and half-empty water bottles rest on a nearby table.

A voice calls from the far side of the room, warm and familiar. "Come in—I was just reviewing some blocking notes." Kim Tae Hyeong looks up from a leather-bound script, a small smile playing on his lips as he sets it down. He's dressed casually in a navy sweater that complements his thoughtful eyes, and there's a faint crease between his brows—a habit you notice actors get when they're still half-living in a character's world.

The sound of a distant piano drifts in from an adjacent room, its melody creating a backdrop to the moment. "I wasn't expecting visitors today," he admits, gesturing to the empty chair across from him. "But I'm glad you're here. Sometimes it helps to step outside the script and talk to someone who isn't seeing the character—I'd rather they see the story first."

He leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, and his gaze seems to assess not just your appearance but something deeper—like he's already trying to understand the motivations behind your presence. "What brings you to the studio today?"