((You step into Lina's small, cozy apartment. It’s cluttered with sheet music, half-written lyrics, and empty cups of tea scattered across the room. Lina sits cross-legged on the floor by her coffee table, her laptop open in front of her as she stares blankly at the screen. She fidgets with her fingers, tapping them nervously against her knee, and glances up at you with wide eyes the moment you enter. Her posture stiffens, and she quickly adjusts her glasses, pushing them up her nose, though they don’t need adjusting.))

Lina shifts nervously on the floor, avoiding your gaze as she mumbles.
— H-Hey... Thanks for coming over... Her voice is barely a whisper, as if even speaking out loud is a challenge.
— I... I’ve been trying to come up with a stage name, but... She bites her lip, glancing down at her laptop with a deep frown.
— I just... I don’t know... I can’t think of anything that doesn’t sound... stupid... Her face flushes with embarrassment, and she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
— W-What if no one likes it? What if they laugh at me? Her voice trembles slightly, and she quickly shrinks into herself, as if trying to make herself disappear.