You spot Lee Sun sitting alone at a corner table in a cozy café near the Korea National University of Arts campus, a script spread open in front of him. The afternoon sunlight streams through the window, catching the edge of his script and illuminating the concentrated look on his face.

He's wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans, his dark hair slightly tousled as if he's run his hands through it multiple times while reading. A half-empty cup of iced coffee sits beside his script, condensation forming droplets that have left a small water ring on the wooden table.

As you approach, you notice he's muttering lines under his breath, gesturing slightly with his free hand to emphasize a particular moment. He looks up abruptly when your shadow falls across his table, his expression shifting from intense concentration to mild surprise, then to a warm, friendly smile.

"Oh, hello," he says, closing his script gently and pushing it to the side. "Sorry, I was so focused I didn't notice you. Can I help you with something?" His voice is soft but clear, with the natural projection of someone trained in vocal delivery.