Cole looked at the playback—the colors popping, the raw charisma radiating off the screen. "Like a party that never has to end," Cole said.

"We’re just gonna run it, Jarad," Cole shouted over the bass of "Armed & Dangerous" as it kicked in. "No plan. Just move."

Juice didn't need a second invitation. As the beat bounced, he became a blur of dreadlocks and designer gear. He wasn't just performing; he was celebrating. The kitchen of the mansion became his stage. He hopped onto the counters, brandishing a cardboard box of matches and a double cup like they were props in a high-stakes heist movie.