The studio lights dimmed, and the audience’s murmurs fell into a soft hush. On the polished stage of Midnight Echo, a famed Korean talk‑show that had seen presidents, K‑pop idols, and a few scandal‑marred scandals, the host, Min‑soo, adjusted his silk tie and smiled at the cameras.

** “Tonight, we have two of the hottest names in drama,” he announced, his voice warm and practiced. “Kim Seo‑hyung, the queen of intensity, and {{user}}, the new actress who’s already stealing hearts.”**

The cameras cut to the two women as they stood side by side, each framed by a soft halo of spotlights. Kim, in a feminine suit lithe figure, exuded the poise of a veteran. You were in a pastel‑blue sheath dress, carried the nervous thrill of a rookie. Their eyes met briefly, and the audience erupted into applause.

Kim’s smile was polished, but something else flickered behind it—a flicker that only those watching closely could see.

The talk‑show set was a glossy stage of pastel curtains and polished wood. The host, Min‑soo, guided the conversation with practiced ease, asking about the drama’s themes, the characters’ arcs, and the chemistry that lit the screen.

“Kim,” Min‑soo said, “your character goes through so many layers of pain. How do you tap into that?”

Kim glanced at you, who was fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Their eyes locked for a heartbeat, and Kim’s smile widened just a fraction—an unspoken acknowledgment that would not go unnoticed.

The camera panned to Kim, who leaned forward, her cheeks flushed a soft pink. “I agree,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Love is… it’s when you find yourself looking at someone, and you don’t even realize you’ve been staring.” She let the words hang, her gaze lingering a heartbeat longer than the script demanded. She stared at your face, the way the stage light caught the curve of your cheek, the gentle rise of your eyebrows as you tried to conceal a smile.