And so, by the time Alani dunks her phone in water, they all have nothing else to do but to go on about their days without that loaded weapon of sorts. “It’s gonna be fine,” Maia says and immediately heads back to work to see what Alyssa can provide in terms of crisis management. (After all, Tallulah has a TRESemmé deal on the line. They don’t wanna mess that up.)
The crisis-management meeting is as hilariously obscene as you’d imagine (white on white bullying of this kind, we’re told, is easier to bounce back from than many others), and so long as Maia remembers that what’s best for a friend is not what’s best for a client, she should be fine. All Tallulah has to do, according to their crisis rep, is issue an apology the next day (according to crisis math) and boom, the TRESemmé deal should stay intact. That is, of course, not likely what Tallulah wants (can you even picture her apologizing?) nor what Maia thinks is best (focused as she is on her friend), but she tells Alyssa she’ll do as she’s told.
Once more, I Love LA pitches itself as offering a painfully accurate (if, perhaps, slightly dated—why are we dragging Reddit here as if that’s where a lot of online discourse is still happening in 2025?) of life in L.A. for those who seek and covet fame—even or specifically of the online variety.
Thankfully, Maia has an offline life she can still find solace in: She’s spending her evening with Dylan, who’s baked snickerdoodles for his school’s bake sale. It’s there she’s confronted with seemingly another cruel reality about a specific subsection of Angelenos: the (not-so-secretly) c-words that are the moms of Silver Lake. When Maia tries to solve a spat between two girls over a brownie, insisting they should share, she’s met with disdain from one of said moms: No daughter of hers will deign to share; she’s not there to raise a pushover. And as Maia apologizes for not knowing how things worked in the school, she’s scolded for saying “I’m sorry” so many times. It’s all a quick lesson in thinking that sociopathy is the only way to succeed, that fighting back is the way forward in life. Which, of course, makes her realize she and Tallulah shouldn’t back down in the face of Paulena’s accusations. (That becomes especially important once she sees Paulena has turned Dylan into “Coke Larry,” an online meme from a pic of him from the infamous coke-fueled night that started this all.)
Not that accusations are at all affecting Tallulah, who’s convinced by Alani and Charlie to visit the hot chef from her DMs (played by Moses Ingram) at her buzzy restaurant. It’ll be a chance to enjoy their night out and, for Charlie, a way to ingratiate himself with the gays in the service industry who have all collectively turned on him for his fallout with Mimi Rush. Just like last week, this is peak sitcom B-plot, especially once Tallulah keeps trying to find an iPad or a phone she could use to fire back at her haters only to discover herself in the back of house watching her fun flirtation be derailed by a tone-deaf ketamine joke. (Between the bake sale and this restaurant meet-cute, one almost wishes everyone here could just get off their phone and enjoy face-to-face interactions that have nothing to do with likes or follows or deals and, as the kids say, touch grass).
That’s when Maia arrives finally ready to do what Tallulah’s has long wanted: “Should we take this bitch down?” she asks. Turns out that’s easier than any of them could have imagined; as Alani soon remembers, she’d met Paulena in Spanish class (she also went to Crossroads) and, lo and behold, she’s let go of her last name because it’s…Rikers. Yes, as in the island, the prison. That’s enough ammo for Tallulah to create a damning “non-apology” video where she calls out Paulena’s nepo-prison lineage (and the fact that her father, according to Alani, had to “move overseas because he was too good at business?”), eventually giving her followers a new target on which to feast and pile on.
Which brings us to the foursome basking in the sun at their favorite coffee shop as they relish having taken down Paulena, soaking up the dopamine hits of the shameful pile-ons that the internet has unleashed on her (“It’s dangerous but fair, like the ocean,” says Alani of the ’net), all while Maia gets a text from Alyssa letting her know the TRESemmé deal is a no-go. Did she do the right thing sticking by her friend rather than counseling her as a client? Or did she not think two steps ahead in service of an enjoyable online takedown?
That’s when they all realize Alani is wearing one of Paulena’s $400 necklaces. “You’re a bad person,” Charlie smirks her way, a coy admission that maybe they all are and that they may very well love it that way.
Stray observations
- • I really hope we see Ayo Edeberi’s Mimi Rush again; it’s not enough to just see her on a gay barista’s tee (or on Charlie’s novelty hat: “Mimi Rush Fired Me For Being Gay & Jewish”).
- • As we gear up for the performance that will surely have everyone talking about Odessa A’zion (that’s Marty Supreme, FYI), I think we need to stop and admire just how gorgeously textured her Tallulah is. Everyone’s doing solid work here but her ability to go broad and crazy (with a killer set of nails and locks of curls) and yet find a vulnerability that straddles the line between performative and authentic is a joy to watch.
- • For every timely and on-point joke, I Love LA has one or two that feel stuck in another timeline. (Are we still doing Hunter Biden jokes?)
- • What’s the most L.A. line in this episode: “Like my dad used to say, ‘We’re not letting the indictment ruin another Christmas’” or “What’s the point of being nice if no one that can help me sees it?”
