Cover K-pop friend groups endure because they offer something the industry itself rarely does: continuity (Photo: IMDB)
K-pop friend groups endure because they offer something the industry itself rarely does: continuity (Photo: IMDB)
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These K-pop friend groups are rare through lines in careers built on constant reinvention
In K-pop, proximity is inevitable. These idols train together for years, promote alongside each other and orbit the same tightly controlled ecosystem. But real friendship? That’s harder to fake.
Because now and then, something slips through the industry’s careful architecture: a group chat that won’t die, a dinner tradition that survives world tours or a friendship that exists with or without a camera pointed at it. These K-pop friend groups are the relationships that feel less like coincidence and more like continuity—the rare through lines in careers built on constant reinvention.
They don’t announce themselves. They surface in small ways, such as a name dropped in passing, a coffee truck sent without fanfare or a familiar face in the audience when no one asked them to be there. And over time, those fragments start to add up—into something that feels less like PR, and more like proof.
Here, the K-pop friend groups that have quietly, stubbornly, become part of the industry’s unofficial lore.
In case you missed it: 7 iconic K-drama off-screen friendships that define ‘squad goals’
The Wooga Squad (K-pop’s most cinematic crossover)
Above This friendship has been immortalised by the variety show ‘In the Soop: Friendcation’
This one is not exactly like other K-pop groups. At this point, the Wooga Squad operates like a prestige ensemble cast. The group—V of BTS, Park Seo-joon, Choi Woo-shik, Park Hyung-sik and Peakboy—feels less like a friendly gang and more like a carefully assembled Avengers unit of Korean pop culture.
Their origin story traces back to the set of Hwarang, but what followed is what gives them their mythology: vacations together, low-key hangouts and a kind of emotional transparency that feels rare among A-listers. When they appeared in In the Soop: Friendcation, it wasn’t about spectacle—it was about stillness. Five men, at the height of their careers, choosing to do very little together.
Why it works: Because it feels intentional. Not convenient, not performative—chosen.
The ’97 Liners (K-pop’s current kings)
If the Wooga Squad is prestige casting, the ’97 liners are pure star power—an accidental supergroup defined by timing and top-tier longevity. Born in the same year and navigating the industry’s peak together, the core group has expanded from a rumoured group chat into a visible alliance of the industry’s heavy hitters: Jungkook (BTS), Cha Eun-woo (Astro), Mingyu, DK and The8 (Seventeen), Jaehyun (NCT), Bang Chan (Stray Kids) and BamBam and Yugyeom (GOT7).
In 2026, they officially transitioned from rising stars to the industry’s royal court. Their friendship thrives in the margins: supporting each other at sold-out stadium world tours, sending elaborate coffee trucks to drama sets (often with teasing banners) and the now-legendary late-night group chat that pop historians would give anything to archive.
What makes them addictive in 2026 is their shift toward chaotic transparency. They no longer hide their bond behind company silos; instead, they lean into it. Whether it's Jungkook and Mingyu breaking the Internet with a spontaneous Weverse Live drink-and-chat or Bang Chan sharing anecdotes about their high-society dinners, the ’97 liners have turned camaraderie into a form of soft power.
Why it works: Because it feels like a fever dream that somehow became real—a friend group of individual kings who genuinely enjoy being just “the guys” when the cameras (mostly) aren’t looking.
The Padding Squad (the dancers’ sanctuary)
Before cross-company friendships became content, there was the Padding Squad, a quieter, almost mythic alliance anchored by Taemin, Kai, Jimin, Ha Sung-woon and Timoteo. Named after the custom-padded jackets Taemin once gifted the group, the name itself feels almost incidental—what matters is what it represents.
This is less a social circle and more a refuge. All five are performers first—dancers whose careers demand physical precision and emotional exposure in equal measure. Their friendship exists largely outside public consumption, surfacing only in fragments: a mention in an interview, a passing anecdote, a rare photo that sends fans into quiet spirals.
What makes the Padding Squad compelling is its resistance to spectacle. In an industry often fuelled by visibility, they have maintained something private, almost sacred. It is a space untouched by fan expectations or company narratives.
Why it works: Intimate, insular and deeply grounded in shared experience, this gang is less group chat and more sanctuary.
The SM ’00 Liners (Gen Z chaos, but make it legacy)
Every generation produces its own micro-cohort, and for SM Entertainment, the ’00 liners are the definitive “Passing of the Torch” crew. The core squad includes Haechan, Jaemin, Jeno, Renjun and Yangyang (NCT) and Shotaro (Riize). These are idols who trained within the same gruelling system and successfully transitioned from dreaming teenagers to industry veterans.
Even with Shotaro now part of Riize, the bond remains unbroken—frequently surfacing in NCT 2026 anniversary content and year-end collaborations. They carry a lighter, more openly playful dynamic than their predecessors, reflective of a generation that values unfiltered creator energy over the rigid idol mystery of the past.
The February 2026 debut of the sub-unit NCT JNJM (Jeno and Jaemin) and their Both Sides EP has only intensified the spotlight on this cohort. Whether it’s their viral ’00-line TikTok challenges or their chaotic tenth-anniversary lock-in livestreams, they prove that institutional familiarity breeds a unique kind of creative chemistry.
Why it works: Because it captures K-pop’s evolution perfectly—the same elite training system, but with a new, active-creation energy where they are as much influencers as they are performers.
The Dragon Club (legacy, longevity and chaos)
Above They are the only group on this list whose bankability has stayed for 30 years
Long before K-pop became a global export, there was the Dragon Club, a friendship that predates the current industry entirely. This squad includes Kim Jong-kook, Cha Tae-hyun, Jang Hyuk, Hong Kyung-min and Hong Kyung-in, who were all born in 1976, the Year of the Dragon. If K-pop friend groups could be institutions, this troop is definitely one.
Their bond spans decades, built through pre-debut struggles, early fame and the long arc of staying relevant in an industry that rarely allows it. When they reunited for Dragon’s Club: Overgrown Bromance, it wasn’t so much about reinvention as it was about continuity. Watching them bicker, tease and fall into familiar rhythms felt less like content and more like time travel.
There is a kind of comfort in their dynamic, a refusal to outgrow each other despite everything that has changed around them.
Why it works: Don’t you just love a group that is chaotic, affectionate and entirely unfiltered? They are proof that longevity—not visibility—is the real currency of friendship.
See more: Inside the billion-won fortunes of Korea’s richest celebrity couples
Blackpink’s inner circle (the fashion-week diaspora)
The members of Blackpink have, in many ways, built their friendships across industries as much as within them. Jennie, Jisoo, Rosé and Lisa move through a world that includes models, actors and global pop stars. Still, their closest bonds often circle back to each other.
Their friendship reads less like a loud, chaotic group and more like a tightly held core—private, occasionally glimpsed through behind-the-scenes footage or off-duty moments at fashion week. There is an ease to their dynamic that feels earned: years of training, global scrutiny and shared experience at the very top.
Why it works: Because it’s insular in the best way. A reminder that sometimes the strongest friend group is the one you debuted with.
The ’98-Liners (the ‘chingu’ circle)
If most K-pop friend groups exist within gendered lines, the ’98-liners quietly disrupt that expectation. Anchored by Seungkwan, SinB, Umji and the late Moonbin, the gang represents something still relatively rare in the industry: openly affectionate, platonic friendships between male and female idols.
Their chemistry is best captured in unscripted environments, such as variety appearances like MMTG, where their dynamic oscillates between playful bickering and genuine care. There is an ease to their interactions that feels disarmingly normal, even as their lives are anything but.
What gives the group its emotional resonance, especially in hindsight, is its sense of protectiveness. There is laughter, yes, but also a quiet loyalty. It is a recognition of shared pressures and the need for safe spaces within them.
Why it works: They are warm, chaotic and deeply human. It is a friend group that feels less like an industry construct and more like real life slipping through the cracks.
Sasha Lim-Uy Mariposa is a lifestyle journalist who is known for her food writing. Based in Manila, she also covers entertainment and dining, as well as a broad range of topics. She was the former digital editor at Esquire Philippines and was the digital managing editor at Spot.ph, and now writes for the different Tatler Asia markets as a contributing writer for T-Labs.
