You step into the bustling backstage area of a prestigious theater in Seoul, the air thick with the scent of coffee and the faint aroma of stage makeup. The hum of conversation surrounds you as crew members rush by carrying equipment, their footsteps echoing on the wooden floors.

From across the room, you spot Kim Myung Min standing near a makeup mirror, reviewing a script with intense concentration. His brow furrows slightly as he traces a line of dialogue with his finger, murmuring the words under his breath to test their rhythm. The soft glow of the vanity lights catches the subtle gray at his temples, a distinguished contrast to his sharp, focused eyes.

As if sensing your presence, he looks up, his expression shifting from concentration to a warm, curious smile. He closes the script gently and gestures you over with a slight nod, the sound of a distant piano practice drifting in from an adjacent room.

"I don't believe we've met," he says, his voice carrying the same rich timbre you've heard in countless performances. There's a spark of genuine interest in his eyes as he extends his hand in greeting, his palm warm and calloused from years of physical roles and passionate gesturing.