PLAVE is a group formed by people who once dreamed of becoming idols but had, for various reasons, left that dream behind. Yejun was the first to join, then brought in Noah and Eunho; Eunho convinced Bamby, and finally Noah persuaded Hamin. That’s how the team was completed. Their start was anything but glamorous. The very concept of a “virtual idol” invited skepticism and prejudice. Seen more as animated characters than performers, they struggled to receive good songs or work with external choreographers. So the members carved their own path—taking on songwriting, composing, producing, and choreography themselves. Rather than waiting for a system to hand them a stage, they chose to accept mistakes and growing pains in exchange for a stage where their own voices could be heard.
(PLAVE - Eunho, Bamby, Yejun, Noah, Hamin)
At the same time, they turned to communication as another strategy. Virtual idols are often described as using interaction merely to “compensate” for the impossibility of face-to-face contact, but that view misses the point. Even traditional idols are hardly accessible in daily life; physical distance alone doesn’t explain the difference. For PLAVE, communication became a deliberate way to persuade, to tell their story, and to make it unforgettable. Their livestreams might look ordinary at first—real-time chats with fans, singing, dancing, rapping, even decorating themed sets for birthdays, holidays, or vacations. But what made them different was what they chose to share: giving each other vocal and dance lessons, revealing their songwriting process, showing the behind-the-scenes of performances.
(Making music live: PLAVE composing on stream, with fans watching every step)
(A gift to fans — PLAVE’s heartfelt cover of Hoppipolla’s 'Your Ocean')
That was when the attitude of the audience began to change. What started as curiosity—“a virtual idol, how unusual”—gradually became conviction: “these are not just characters, but real people and artists.” And you could feel that shift everywhere. The fandom that grew around PLAVE reflected it. It was a hybrid community, bringing together fans who had once supported first- to third-generation idols and drifted away, as well as people from other genres. What united them was recognition of PLAVE’s narrative—an underdog story, creative independence, and persistent communication. The fandom also carried a strong “all-fan” ethos, shaped by the group’s cooperative origins: members persuading each other to join, growing and working together as a team. As a result, fans rallied behind the group’s story as a whole rather than focusing on a single member.
(PLAVE members, with a fan portrait of PLLI they drew themselves placed right in the middle)
This back-and-forth with fans soon produced tangible outcomes. The lightstick nicknamed Abyong, the cheer move that resembles a side lateral raise exercise, and the encore line “If you wait a little, they’ll come back” all originated in livestreams before being carried into concerts. Songs that began spontaneously during broadcasts were refined and eventually released, such as the digital single 'Pump Up the Volume!'. These details, however small, deepened the bond between PLAVE and their fans, turning them into true partners in writing the group’s story.
(The birth of Abyong and its now-iconic cheer move)
What ultimately lifted PLAVE onto bigger stages was not only the members’ talent and effort but the power of their fandom. In K-pop, mass streaming and bulk album buying are often dismissed as a “numbers game.” But for PLAVE’s fans—known as PLLI—those numbers were a way to break through skepticism. “They’re not even real. How can you like them? They’re just characters.” And always, the deeper prejudice: “Virtual idols aren’t real idols at all.” That was the line they were up against. PLAVE, for their part, often said they didn’t want their supporters to be treated like fools for cheering them on, and so they prepared better songs and better performances. Fans answered in kind, turning streaming, voting, and joint purchases into proof of both the group’s authenticity and their own devotion.
(Screenshot of a fan-created website that serves as the central platform for PLLI fandom activities)
The results? They speak for themselves. From 27,000 first-week sales with their debut, to 200,000 with their first full album, to 570,000 with their second mini, and finally over a million with their third. Caligo Pt.1 lined up on Melon’s charts upon release, logging 11 million streams in its first 24 hours—an insane number for any group, let alone a rookie virtual idol. It earned PLAVE both entry into the platform’s “Billions Club” and the title of million-seller. Usually, that kind of hit requires famous producers, established reputations, and the backing of a major label. But here was a new agency’s virtual group, filling charts with songs they had written themselves. Remarkable doesn’t even cover it. And the recognition went beyond numbers. Caligo Pt.1 entered the Billboard Global 200, and PLAVE went on to win a Bonsang at the 34th Seoul Music Awards and an Artist of the Year award at the 32nd Hanteo Music Awards, proving their presence within the mainstream.
(PLAVE receiving their Artist of the Year award at the Hanteo Music Awards)
What matters most is that these milestones were achieved together. The members consistently describe their fans not as consumers but as the source of their creativity—the muses, the messages, the reason every moment is possible. Through interviews and broadcasts, they’ve repeated one idea: with their fans, even “forever” feels possible, and the moments they share naturally expand into new content.
PLAVE’s success is not the product of novelty or technology alone. It is the result of artists and fans building a story together—and proving it on real stages.
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*Last updated: 2025.09.04
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