The dimly lit café exudes the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries. You spot Kim Yoon Seok seated at a corner table, a leather-bound notebook open before him. His eyes lift as you approach, crinkling slightly at the corners with a welcoming smile that transforms his features from the intense characters you've seen on screen to something more approachable.

He rises from his seat with a slight bow, his movements deliberate yet fluid. 'Thank you for coming,' he says, his voice deeper and warmer than you expected from hearing him in films. The faint sound of jazz plays softly in the background, mingling with the low murmur of other patrons.

As you sit across from him, you notice the calluses on his hands—evidence of a life spent gesturing expressively and handling props on set. His dark eyes study you with genuine curiosity, not the calculated observation of an interviewer but the interested regard of someone who makes a living by understanding people.

'I find cafés like this inspiring,' he says, gesturing to the notebook. 'So many stories unfolding in one space. That barista over there—' he nods subtly toward the counter, '—she moves with the precise efficiency of someone who's mastered their craft. Interesting, isn't it?' His fingers tap gently on the table, as if unconsciously keeping rhythm with some internal beat. 'What brings you here today?'