AP CH 3 (First Snow)

Although there were no morning classes on Monday, Seon-woo headed to school early for a club meeting. He hated dealing with bothersome tasks and had tried to get out of it this time too, but unfortunately, Choi Lee-won had taken over as president of Schuphur this term, making it impossible for him to skip. The club members greeted him warmly as he arrived in front of the club room.

“Hi, sunbae!”

“Jin-sol, Eun-jae. It feels like it’s been a while since I’ve seen you guys.”

“What do you mean, a while? We had the general meeting two weeks ago. It’s just you who’s been missing for a while, sunbae.”

“Yeah, you didn’t show up to the sports event or the after-party, and then you didn’t come to the general meeting either! What are we supposed to do?”

“Exactly. We missed you. We even lost the relay race because you weren’t there, sunbae.”

Surrounded by playful complaints, Seon-woo chuckled and joked back.

“Oh, that race where you came in last? That’s too bad. Whoever that missing sunbae was, it sounds like they really screwed up.”

Inside the club room, familiar faces filled the space. Seon-woo hadn’t shown up in months, so everyone was delighted to see him.

“Seon-woo, long time no see!”

“Here, sunbae. Min-jeong sunbae was passing these around, and there’s one left for you.”

“Thanks.”

Seon-woo took the soda can his junior handed him and found a seat. The group was in the middle of talking about the freshman welcome party and the ski trip planned for winter. As soon as Seon-woo sat down, the conversation shifted to him.

“Sunbae, are you going to the ski trip this year?”

“Hmm… maybe?”

“Really? You’re going?”

“See? I told you sunbae would come.”

“Seon-woo, you’re only coming because of Lee-won, aren’t you?”

When his classmate teased him, Seon-woo simply smiled without confirming or denying it. Skiing was his only hobby, but it was true that joining the club and going to the ski camp were all because of Choi Lee-won.

“You promised to teach me this time, remember? I haven’t forgotten what you said back in my freshman year!”

“Wait, really? Is Seon-woo sunbae good at skiing? He didn’t come last year, so I’ve never seen him ski.”

“You didn’t know? Sunbae was a pro when he was younger. He’s probably still working as an instructor.”

The conversation quickly turned into exaggerated rumors about him being a child prodigy, a genius, and stories of how long he had competed and how many medals he’d won. Seon-woo didn’t bother correcting them, regardless of how true or false they were. There was no point; no one ever listened anyway, and eventually…

“Was Seon-woo sunbae a sports major?”

“No, he’s in business. Same as Lee-won sunbae.”

“All of that was back when he was younger. He quit now.”

“Why did you quit?”

A junior asked, and Seon-woo gave the familiar response.

“Knee injury. Even with rehab, they said competing would be tough.”

“Oh no… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…”

“It’s fine.”

It all will be sorted out on its own.

With the atmosphere finally settling to his liking, Seon-woo smiled, feeling content, and took a sip from the soda can.

The ski club “Schuphur” at Hanguk University was the most talked-about club on campus. Rumors abound, ranging from how its successful alumni had poured in so much funding that the club’s reserves were in the billions, to how every past president of Schuphur had graduated driving a foreign car. There was even gossip that everyone in the club ended up dating each other, and that one person went in solo but left in a trio.

Although some of these rumors were exaggerated, they weren’t entirely unfounded. The alumni association provided a lot of financial support, and every year after the ski camp, there was a noticeable increase in couples within the club.

The ski camp, the source of all these rumors, was Schuphur’s most important event, living up to its reputation. That was why Seon-woo found himself called in early in the fall semester to start preparing for the ski camp that would take place after the winter break.

Though Seon-woo had reluctantly agreed to attend at Lee-won’s request for the first meeting, he didn’t have much to contribute. Discussions about funding and venue bookings were outside his area of expertise. Others were noisily chatting about the new recruits joining the club this year, but that didn’t interest him either. He rested his chin in his hand, trying to suppress the urge to leave, while watching Lee-won lead the meeting from the front.

‘He’s really putting in the effort.’

Unlike Seon-woo, Choi Lee-won wasn’t particularly fond of skiing. Yet, Lee-won’s passion for Schuphur never ceased to amaze Seon-woo. Of course, he knew why. It was all to stay in his grandfather’s good graces.

Chairman Choi Jeong-cheol, one of Schuphur’s founding members, still held a deep affection for skiing even in his old age. The significant financial support flowing into Schuphur was largely due to his influence, and it was also Chairman Choi who had recognized Seon-woo’s talent early on, supporting him to compete as a professional athlete. It was only natural that the chairman would be proud of his grandson, who, despite not loving skiing, took on the role of Schuphur’s president and led the club he had essentially built. That was exactly what Choi Lee-won was aiming for.

Seon-woo, unable to resist Lee-won’s pleas, had joined Schuphur as a freshman and lent his credibility as a former athlete to the club. He didn’t need to ask to know how hard Lee-won would work to make this year’s ski camp, which he was overseeing as president, a flawless success.

Of course, it was that very ambition of Lee-won’s that Seon-woo loved… but for some reason, this winter felt like it was going to be more exhausting than usual.

“…Okay, the freshman welcome party is on Wednesday, so Jin-hyeong, you can transfer the venue fee by tomorrow. How’s the camp going?”

“We’re still contacting the resort. But the academic office asked if we can coordinate with the liberal arts class for the last week again this year. They said there are three hundred sign-ups.”

“With that kind of demand, there’ll be over a hundred people for sure.”

“Oh god… no way. They’re going to make us staff again, aren’t they? The liberal arts kids are just there to play and never listen.”

“But the funding’s great, isn’t it? Instead of eating instant noodles for dinner, you’ll get kimchi stew. Think you can resist that, Ji-hyeon?”

“Kimchi stew? That’s cheating. Fine, I’ll work hard as staff.”

“I was thinking of moving it to Mighty Town this year… but with that many people, we might have to stick with Inun.”

“If we’re considering gender and type to divide them, we’ll need to prepare 1.5 times the usual number of rooms. And they’ll make us handle all the assignments.”

“We’ll have to think about the liberal arts part. Let’s put it on hold for now.”

As the meeting dragged on, those with classes began to leave one by one. Seon-woo, who had a class at noon, also stood up a bit earlier than the others. Lee-won’s reproachful gaze followed him, aware of Seon-woo’s schedule, but Seon-woo just shrugged and left the clubroom.

After dropping his bag in the classroom, Seon-woo headed straight for the smoking area. Lighting a cigarette, he overheard the excited chatter of two girls who had followed him in, causing him to glance their way.

“Did you see that guy just now?”

“Of course, I nearly went cross-eyed trying to sneak a look.”

“I drooled all over my shirt. Seriously, he was so hot. Even better looking than Gye Soo-hyeon from the drama department.”

“Is he a new acting major? What’s he doing here? He looked like he was waiting for someone.”

Seon-woo knew who Gye Soo-hyeon was. He was famous even to people like Seon-woo, a former child actor who had starred in a ten-million-viewer movie as a supporting character during his freshman year. Widely considered the face of Hanguk University.

Hearing someone described as better looking than Gye Soo-hyeon piqued his curiosity, but the vibrating in his pocket cut his thoughts short. Seon-woo pulled out his phone and answered the call.

“Yes, hyung.”

—You’re not coming this time? Really? Do you know how many people are waiting for you?

“I’ve got to go to the club camp this season. Didn’t I mention it when we parted last time?”

—Ugh… right. That club. I didn’t think you’d really go through with that nonsense.

It was clear from Dong-jin’s hesitant tone that he couldn’t quite believe that Seon-woo, who earned a hefty sum teaching the heirs of conglomerate families, was volunteering for a near-free ski camp. Seon-woo himself agreed that, if not for Lee-won, he would never waste his time on such a thing. Yet, he had made the foolish choice himself, so he kept quiet.

—You really don’t have any time? You’re not going to be there the entire season, are you?

“Well, that’s true, not the entire season.”

—Where’s it happening? It’s not in Gyeonggi-do, right?

“We’ll probably go to Inun.”

—Inun? It’s not that far from Mighty Town. Just come over on weekends to work. I’ll pick you up.

Even though it wasn’t too far, it still took more than thirty minutes on a one way trip. Plus, with the nature of the ski resort, there were times when heavy snowfall blocked the roads. Sunwoo, who had been frowning in thought, let out a sigh and replied.

“I can’t promise. This time, I really can’t take time off. I might be able to in February.”

—February? Hey! By then all the snow will be gone! We’re in the middle of global warming, you idiot.

Seon-woo let out a small laugh, realizing how ridiculous it sounded. Dong-jin, who was laughing on the other end of the line, spoke again.

—Anyway, think it over. Make the right choice, okay? I’ll keep calling you until the season starts. Got it?

“Yeah, yeah, hyung. Take care.”

After hanging up, Seon-woo crushed the remaining cigarette underfoot and brushed himself off. Maybe he’d grab a drink before heading back to class. As he lazily walked, debating whether to drink Pocari Sweat or Coke, his eyes fell on a tall man standing near the building entrance.

Immediately, Seon-woo knew that this guy was the “insanely handsome” person the girls had been gossiping about earlier. His tall frame, perfectly straight nose, strong jawline, and deep-set eyes gave off an undeniably striking appearance. Even Seon-woo, a man himself, had to admit he was objectively good-looking.

Yet, despite those sharp features, his pale skin and soft, light-colored hair created an odd yet intriguing contrast. There was no doubt—this was the kind of face one wouldn’t easily forget.

‘Actually… he’s more pretty than handsome, isn’t he?’

Just as Seon-woo shrugged off the thought and took a step closer to the man, he was suddenly hit by a strong wave of alpha pheromones, causing him to grimace instinctively.

How rude. He swallowed down a curse through clenched teeth, trying to quickly walk inside, but suddenly, his wrist was grabbed. Forced to stop, Seon-woo glanced down at the large hand holding him, then looked up at the man, his gaze involuntarily trailing upward.

It had been a long time since he’d felt the annoyance of having to look up at someone.

Seon-woo, having no reason to be particularly kind to an alpha who couldn’t even control his own pheromones, let his words come out curtly.

“What is it?”

“…You…Are you alright?”

The unexpected question made Seon-woo blink in confusion. He pointed at himself with his other hand.

“Are you talking to me? Do we know each other or something?”

The man’s straight brows furrowed slightly, displeasure crossing his otherwise perfect features. It wasn’t an unfamiliar expression. Quickly assessing the situation, Seon-woo grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him inside the building. Thankfully, the man didn’t resist and followed obediently.

Once they were away from prying eyes and slipping into an empty classroom, Seon-woo sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“So, we’ve met before, right? Sorry, I don’t really remember. Did we meet at Liberty, by any chance?”

Seeing the man nod, Seon-woo tried to maintain a calm facade as he quickly sifted through his memories. It wasn’t unheard of for people he’d met at Liberty to show up at his school. But what made this particular situation unsettling was the fact that the man in front of him was clearly an alpha.

As the silence stretched, the man suddenly added another comment.

“…You took my number, too.”

“Number?”

At that, a faint memory sparked, and Seon-woo pulled out his phone, scrolling down his call history. There it was—an unfamiliar number from early Saturday morning. And standing right in front of him was the unforgettable face of the man from that night.

Finally, the hazy memories began to surface.

“Do you have a lighter by any chance?”

“Did you come here for a drink?”

“Well, that’s good to hear. Wanna come back in with me? I’ll buy you a drink.”

You’re crazy. Nam Seon-woo.

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