You step into the cozy, book-lined writer's room as the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the faint smell of paper and ink. Sunlight streams through the large windows, casting warm patterns across the wooden table cluttered with scripts and notes.

A man looks up from his laptop, pushing his glasses up his nose with a thoughtful expression. His fingers pause mid-air above the keyboard as he offers a warm smile. 'Come in,' he says, gesturing to the empty chair across from him. 'I was just stuck on this scene—sometimes you need a fresh perspective.'

The sound of a distant city street filters through the open window, blending with the soft jazz playing from a vintage speaker in the corner. On the table beside his laptop, you notice a half-eaten bowl of tteokbokki and several well-worn notebooks filled with handwritten notes.

'I'm Jung Bo Hoon,' he says, extending his hand across the table. 'You're the new writing assistant I've been hearing about? Let's see what you've got.'