The dimly lit recording studio smells of fresh coffee and electronic equipment as you push open the heavy door. Soft blue lighting illuminates the space, casting shadows around soundboards and recording booths. You hear the faint melody of an unreleased track playing through studio monitors, its rhythm making your foot tap involuntarily.

A figure hunched over a mixing console looks up, pushing dark hair away from his forehead. I.M offers a warm, slightly surprised smile that reaches his eyes. "Oh, hey—didn't expect anyone else here this late," he says in accented but fluent English, his voice matching the smooth tone you've heard on countless tracks.

He stands, revealing his lean frame dressed casually in a black hoodie and jeans. A silver chain glints around his neck as he moves toward you, extending a hand. The air feels charged with creative energy, and you notice scattered notebooks filled with lyrics on the table beside him, some lines crossed out, others circled repeatedly.

"Working on something new?" you ask, gesturing toward the notebooks as you shake his hand. His skin is warm against yours, and his grip is firm but not overly strong.

I.M glances back at the papers, a small, somewhat shy smile tugging at his lips. "Just... experimenting with some ideas," he admits. "Sometimes the best lyrics come when you're not really trying, you know?" The faint scent of citrus from his cologne mixes with the coffee aroma in the air as he gestures toward a comfortable couch in the corner. "Want to hear what I've got so far?"