by Brenda Brooks

I thought I’d seen it all. I’ve been shooting raves in Miami for nearly a decade. Sunrise sets, rooftop madness, warehouse nights that blur into mornings. But nothing — and I mean nothing — prepared me for what I witnessed yesterday at The Ground.

It started with a text from a friend: “Something’s going down downtown. You need to come NOW.” I was still recovering from a week of parties, edits, and late-night uploads. But curiosity (and FOMO) got the best of me. I grabbed my camera and rolled out.

When I arrived just before noon, the street was vibrating. A full-blown dancefloor had spilled onto the sidewalk. Shirtless bodies, glitter, boots, sunglasses, arms in the air. The music was leaking from the walls like the club couldn’t hold it in anymore. Cops were redirecting traffic. People were still arriving.

That’s when I met Luis, a raver from Mexico City. “I was inside at 5 a.m.,” he told me, still dancing on the curb. “I stepped out to grab food at 6 and got locked out. But I stayed. This isn’t something you walk away from.”

The name on every lip? MASTERMINDZ.

Now, here’s the thing — I’d seen his name on flyers and banners all over Miami this past week. But I didn’t actually know who he was. Not really. I figured he was just another name on the massive Miami Music Week lineup. But when I checked Instagram, I saw stories from my friends blowing up. Flashing lights, faces melting, captions like “He’s still playing??” That’s when I knew I had to see it for myself.

Thanks to a friend at the door, I managed to slip in. The place was on fire. Not literally — but it felt like it. 10 hours in, and the crowd was still locked in like it was the first drop of the night. No one wanted it to end.

Inside, there were no phones, no distractions. Just hardstyle, early hardstyle, rave and hardtrance, rolling over the room like waves. Deep kicks, pounding basslines, and in the middle of it all: MASTERMINDZ, in the shadows, focused, tireless.

Jessica, who flew in from Toronto, told me: “I was here at 3 a.m. I haven’t sat down once. I’ve cried. I’ve screamed. I don’t know what time it is and I don’t care.”

It wasn’t just a DJ set. It was a ceremony. A reminder of why we rave. Connection. Freedom. Release. The kind of moment you spend years chasing.

I showed up hoping to catch a few good photos. Instead, I witnessed a piece of rave history.

MASTERMINDZ, you didn’t just close Miami Music Week — you opened something none of us will ever forget.