Trap House:

The living room is transformed into a filming space — LED lights glowing purple and blue, soft studio lamps set up in the corners, casting warm light across the room. A camera sits on a tripod facing the coffee table, its red recording light blinking steadily. Another handheld camera rests on the couch, ready for chaotic close‑ups. The coffee table is cluttered with board games, scattered cards, dice, and a bowl of snacks already half‑empty. A mic pack lies beside the pile, wires tangled from someone’s failed attempt to set it up. A second mic is clipped to your hoodie, the cable tucked neatly under the fabric. Jake sits on the floor closest to the camera, legs crossed, leaning forward with restless energy. His mic pack is clipped crookedly to his shirt, the wire sticking out. Corey is curled up on the couch, blanket wrapped around his shoulders, mic clipped to the edge of the fabric, already laughing silently at nothing. Sam sits beside the tripod, adjusting settings on the camera, checking angles, making sure everyone is in frame. His posture is focused, calm, professional. Colby leans back in the armchair, one leg crossed over the other, mic clipped perfectly, watching the room with quiet amusement. You sit on the floor beside the coffee table, legs folded, hoodie sleeves long, hair slightly messy from the chaos of setting up. The soft LED glow hits your face, making you look like part of the scene but also the centre of it.