One of the very first videos we filmed as a group was in an elevator. It was spontaneous– someone pulled out their phone. The lighting was a cool mix of blue and white, there was a mirror, and it just worked. That video went viral – 15 million views overnight. A few weeks later, we were in the same situation: didn’t know what to film, the parking lot lighting was bad… so we went back to the elevator. Again, the video went viral. People in the comments started calling us “The Elevator Boys,” saying things like, “These are the boys from the elevator!” When we moved in together and got more serious, we decided to stick with the name people already gave us.
Ironically, less than 1% of our content is actually filmed in elevators now. But the elevator became a signature move – something we can always come back to. Because of that, we’ve collaborated with big names like the Jonas Brothers and many others. In a way, we gave people something they connected with, and it opened doors we never imagined.

With music! But it has to be good music.

The whole experience has been intense, but also incredibly beautiful. For years, we lived together – six of us, plus a cameraman who was around 24/7. That alone is a lot. When you live, travel, work together, and even start a company like we did three years ago, things are bound to get intense. But honestly, it feels more like a brotherhood. It’s like being siblings – little things like, “Who left the dishes out again?” come up, but five minutes later someone’s like, “Wanna play FIFA?” and everything’s back to normal. If one person is getting on your nerves, you just hang with someone else. It all evens out.
What’s really special is how we empower each other. In the beginning, everything was new – TikTok, the sudden attention, five guys thrown into the spotlight. Of course, there was some negativity, but we always had each other’s backs. It helped knowing we were all going through it together. We talked, supported and pushed one another when needed. I grew up an only child, so this was the first time I truly experienced something like this. That’s why we say it’s not just a team – it’s a family. We’ve all put in the hours, and now we’re starting to see the results. We just wrapped a movie project in Malta, something we’ve worked on for two years. From being just a group of friends in Frankfurt to performing in front of 80,000 people and filming a movie for Amazon Prime – it honestly feels like a dream we’re living together.

Tim usually takes on the role of the peacemaker, but he also naturally takes the lead. He’s good at negotiating and finding middle ground. I have strong opinions – if I didn’t believe in them, they wouldn’t be strong. But we really talk things through. It’s not a clash of cultures exactly, but maybe something close to it. We haven’t buried this “cast culture” – we work through it by discussing everything until we all feel aligned. That’s our strength. No one is left out. Everyone shares their view, and when we reach a consensus, we know it’s the right call. The variety of perspectives is what gives us confidence in our decisions.

Founding our company was a key step. Now, whenever one of us gets a job or partnership, it goes through our company, and that success becomes a shared win. One opportunity can open doors for everyone. Our way of discussing things is also really solid. Sometimes we’ll spend hours on a single topic, debating late into the night just to find a solution that feels right for everyone. But once we reach that point, it’s powerful. Like when we choose a song to release – everyone has different taste, but when we finally agree, we’re all confident in it. It’s no longer a personal preference, but a collective choice we all believe in. That’s what makes it feel right.

I think it’s still fun. We’re lucky to do what we do, but we’ve also worked hard for it – long days, late nights. If you start something out of joy, it helps you enjoy the entire journey. Because if you begin something that doesn’t bring you happiness, and it turns into work, what’s the point? You can only truly succeed in something you enjoy. Of course, it becomes more structured over time, but if the core of your work is still fun, that’s a gift. I still have my own joys outside of work, like playing soccer. I never did it professionally, so it still feels like something just for me.

Sometimes it’s good not to be too naive in this industry. At the start, everything felt light and carefree – we didn’t take it too seriously. But as you grow, you start thinking more strategically, planning, to avoid mistakes. You start to realize people are watching, especially when you’re out partying like any other twenty-something. Suddenly, you’re considering what a brand might think, or how an industry person might judge you. It can make you overthink. But as long as something feels right to you and is authentic, that’s what really counts. Being real is more important than trying to please everyone.

I grew up in a small town called Stammheim, Florstadt. There wasn’t even a supermarket or gas station. It was quiet and very traditional. But even back then, I felt I wasn’t made for that life. Somehow, I made it out of that bubble. Before I turned 18, I’d only flown twice. Now, I probably fly twice a month. I’ve changed a lot and I’m so grateful. I’ve met incredible people, experienced different cultures, and worked with amazing creatives around the world. It still feels surreal. As a kid, I used to dream while watching TV – and now I’m living those dreams.
In the beginning, three of us shared one room. Now we all have our own apartments, but still see each other every day. Life is good. And even though things have changed, I love going back to my village. It helps me stay grounded and remember how far I’ve come. When you’re in the middle of it all, day to day, you can forget how wild your life really is. High-adrenaline moments become the norm, and it takes something big to really feel the highs.
Going back home feels like a detox. It slows everything down and makes me appreciate the little things again. It’s humbling. Sometimes it’s shocking to see how people are still living exactly the same lives. But visiting reminds me how lucky I am. It’s a full circle—you live it, you step back, and when you return, you feel it all over again. That’s what brings me real joy.

I feel like they’re mostly aligned, but within the group, everyone naturally takes on a certain role. For me, that role evolved over time. My account grew quickly, which led to opportunities with bigger brands and more experience. Because of that, I often find myself pushing the others, which can be exhausting. I sometimes end up playing the “bad cop,” constantly driving things forward. But I actually enjoy that role because I care about our success as a group.
On a personal level, if I weren’t constantly involved in this dynamic, I think I’d be more relaxed. When it’s just about me, I might procrastinate a little more or go to the gym instead of working late. But when it comes to group projects or collaborations, I become very focused – more of a perfectionist. I believe a team is only as strong as its weakest link, so I try to help everyone move forward together. That group mindset brings out a more driven side of me. Still, I sometimes wish I could just chill out, play a good game of FIFA, and take it easy.

It’s a struggle sometimes. But I try to stay transparent. If we’re out here pretending everything is perfect all the time, that would be a huge lie. I think it’s really important to show our human side – to share the moments that aren’t easy. That’s what helps people truly connect with you.
Sure, perfection can offer a kind of escape for some, but if that’s all they see, it can hurt their own self-worth. So I try to share the uncomfortable stuff, too, even when it’s hard. Just saying it out loud helps. I’m lucky to have such a supportive and generous community. When you open up and show vulnerability, people usually respond with kindness, which makes it easier to keep going. Sharing those real moments has real value.

It can be tough, because you do start adapting. But over time, especially through that constant mirror of public reaction, I’ve grown a lot. I’ve become more openminded — about people, about diversity, and about how I see things like gender and sexuality. If I had stayed in my village, I probably wouldn’t have had that growth. It’s a place with very traditional mindsets, and that can be limiting.
For example, at 16 or 18, I never would’ve considered browsing the women’s section while shopping. But now, I’m like, “Why not?” Oversized suits? Amazing. And that’s what the public image thing can teach you – not just to reflect, but to rethink your habits and mindset. Of course, it becomes dangerous if you start pretending to be someone you’re not. But if you stay honest and open, it can actually help you grow into a better version of yourself.

It’s definitely not easy. I was single for about four years while we were constantly working. Even when I had feelings for someone, I couldn’t really make space for a relationship. I just didn’t have the energy to give them what they deserved, and that made me hesitant to let love in.
Even now, it’s challenging. When we were at a songwriting camp in Sweden, after long studio days, I’d be totally drained, and she’d still be full of energy, wanting to go out or do something. I felt guilty that I couldn’t always meet her where she was. She’s incredibly generous with me, and I try to be present, to give what I can.
As for trust – yes, that gets more complicated the more visible you become. More people show up, and not all of them have good intentions. But over time, you develop a radar. You learn who’s there for you and who’s there for what you have. That awareness has become really important to me.
That’s why I keep my inner circle tight – my five closest friends. We’ve lived together for years, vacation together, celebrate together. I never have to ask myself, “Can I trust them?” – because I already do. They keep me grounded, they call me out if I lose perspective, and they help me stay real.

Actually, it was the elevator one – all in a single take. Normally, we plan everything: outfits, lighting, rehearsing dances until they’re perfect. But that day, we were just standing there, pulled out our phones, and filmed one elevator ride — no plan. I never expected it to go viral. From day one, our mindset has been consistency. We post three times a day, every day. It’s like playing the lottery: the more tickets you have, the better your chances. We just kept showing up until one video finally hit – and that was it. After that, everything started feeling real. We’ve been waiting for that kind of moment, and even now, we’re not slowing down.

People sometimes forget I had a totally normal life before all this. I come from a small village where I lived alone with my mom. It wasn’t glamorous — she got by renting out two small flats she’d bought years ago. I worked all kinds of jobs growing up: roofing, construction, bartending, delivering burgers. I studied economics, worked at a gym – just regular things most people can relate to. My life didn’t change overnight; it evolved slowly. I share this not to impress anyone, but to show what’s possible. If people see where I started, maybe they’ll believe in their own dreams a little more. Extraordinary things can grow from very ordinary beginnings.

Yes, it really bothers me. Being underestimated is one of the worst feelings. People see a 15-second clip and assume they know everything about you. Some say, “It’s just luck,” or, “It looks easy.” But I wasn’t handed followers or brand deals – I built this from the ground up. Most people don’t even take the first step because they’re afraid of being judged, and that’s where they lose.
I remember when I started posting TikToks, guys at my local football club tackled me harder just to mock me. But that said more about their mindset than mine. If you know where you want to go, nothing should stop you. Like Schwarzenegger said, you can have the best ship and the best captain, but without a clear destination, you’ll end up nowhere. Once your goal is clear, you’ll find the way – even if you make a few wrong turns.
Social media makes it easy to create false narratives. That’s the danger of parasocial relationships: people think they know you, but they don’t. I understand – they only see a fragment. I just wish more people thought deeper. Everyone starts somewhere, and no one gets here overnight. If you feel jealous or unsure, study the journey, not just the highlight reel – and use it to fuel your own.

I met someone in Tampa who told me they lost 10 or 15 kilos because my content motivated them. That really touched me. Knowing something I created helped someone feel better or more confident – that means everything. We started out just wanting to make people smile. That was already enough. But realizing the impact it can have, especially during tough times like the pandemic, made it feel even more meaningful. Meeting people in real life who say you’ve made a difference – that’s the most rewarding part of all this.

Before social media, I started in modeling but took a break. Coming back to it now feels full-circle — and more personal. I walked for Versace last year, shot a cover, and it’s exciting to express myself through fashion again. To me, fashion is storytelling. It shows who you are, or want to be, at a glance.
Designers like Conner Ives really get that. His “Protect the Dolls” tee wasn’t just trendy — it had a message. He created it last-minute and donated the profits to charity. That honesty moved me more than any luxury brand. Fashion feels alive when it’s about more than clothes — like Willy Chavarria’s show: music, culture, emotion, all in sync. Or Jonathan Anderson at Loewe — totally original. Saint Laurent? I haven’t worked with them yet. But I will. Manifesting it.

It’s not honest to say we don’t compare ourselves. That’s part of this space. You’re constantly measuring your own success — views, likes, engagement. You set the bar, then battle to meet it. And when numbers dip — maybe it’s summer, maybe life gets in the way — you start feeling like you’re falling behind.
There’s pressure to stay online all the time, like a TV channel that can’t go dark. Go silent too long, and you worry people will move on. That mental weight can be intense. That’s why it’s so important to have people around who remind you it doesn’t have to be perfect. Sometimes a friend says, “Just post something simple,” and that’s all it takes.
At the end of the day, you need to recharge. No one runs on empty forever. Like an electric car, you’ve got to stop and recharge, or you’ll burn out before you reach where you’re going.

Yes — once, I did speak out. A German newspaper misrepresented our group after spending a few days with us. They even joined us skydiving — which wasn’t planned and made us nervous. We were swearing out of fear, and they wrote it up like we were rude and scared boys. They even said our apartment smelled like leftover döner. It felt disrespectful, especially after we’d welcomed them in.
So I addressed it. Not out of anger, but because I felt responsible — not just for myself, but for all of us. That moment pushed me to work with PayDay, an organization fighting online hate and discrimination. We’ve raised money together and built a more supportive community. Now, when hate shows up, others often shut it down before I even see it. That’s powerful.
Social media is still new. We’re the first generation raised with it. We’re still learning how to act with empathy online — the same way we (hopefully) do in real life. Just like you’d step in if someone was harassed on the street, we have to learn it’s our job to step in digitally, too. As creators, we help shape that culture.

Yes, definitely. People love seeing me with other creators, and those videos often go viral because of that. But I only make content with people I actually vibe with. Not to fit an idea. If viewers create stories in their heads, that’s fine — as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone.
But when people cross a line and start insulting others just because of who’s in a video, that’s not okay. Keep the fantasy if you want, but don’t let it turn into something harmful.

Be yourself in everything you post. If you pretend to be someone else and get criticized, it’ll hurt more — because you know it wasn’t really you. But if you stay true to who you are, you’ll be able to stand behind your work, no matter what people say.
Also, not everyone needs to be on social media. It’s not the only path to happiness. I know people who live quietly and are genuinely content. For me, happiness comes from creating — whether it’s modeling, videos, music, or film. If it makes people feel something — smile, laugh, reflect — that’s where my passion lies.
Authenticity is everything. When you’re honest and transparent, you build a kind of emotional armor. Look at someone like Alex Consani — she plays by her own rules, both online and off. And people love her for it.