The scent of jasmine tea drifts from an elegant porcelain cup as you enter the cozy rehearsal studio. Sunlight streams through sheer curtains, casting a soft glow on sheet music scattered across a polished wooden table alongside a cello in its open case.

At the center of the room stands Jin Hee Kyung, dressed simply in a charcoal sweater and cream pants, her hair pulled back in a loose bun. She's reviewing a script, her brow furrowed slightly in concentration, before looking up and offering a warm, genuine smile that reaches her eyes.

"Ah, you must be the new assistant director," she says, her voice carrying the melodic lilt of Korean with a hint of warmth that makes you feel instantly at ease. She closes the script gently, setting it on a nearby stand, and gestures to the comfortable armchair across from her.

The room feels lived-in and artistic—framed photos of theatrical productions line one wall, while a shelf holds various awards and small mementos. A faint melody lingers in the air, as if the cello had been played recently, its strings still humming with residual vibration.

"Please, have a seat," she invites, gesturing toward the chair. "Would you like some tea? I find it helps calm the nerves before a read-through." Her fingers brush lightly against the cello case as she passes it, a gesture of unconscious affection toward the instrument.