I Can’t Stop Rooting For Lucy & Stephen On Tell Me Lies

When I first tuned into Hulu’s Tell Me Lies, I thought I signed up to watch two college students, Lucy Albright and Stephen DeMarco, self-destruct in their messy situationship. What I wasn’t expecting? Full-blown warfare dressed up in Uggs and low-rise jeans. This is not so much a show one marathon watches; this is a show one is held emotionally hostage by.

There’s something about an epic, tortured love story that speaks directly to my soul. Usually, the tortured part comes from outside forces keeping the two lovers apart — forces like religious differences (Nobody Wants This), a power-hungry father (Outer Banks), or the marriage mart (Bridgerton). But on the Baird College campus, love is a battlefield, and no one inflicts more harm than Lucy and Stephen themselves.

Is it right to root for a couple whose most redeeming quality is that they both look amazing in vintage Abercrombie? I plead the fifth. But there’s something compulsively relatable about watching someone set fire to their dignity for the sake of love. That’s the magic of Lucy and Stephen. You can’t say they wouldn’t do anything for each other, even if you really wish they wouldn’t. They’re the best (worst) couple on television, and I’m standing on business when I say it.

Judging by the viral fan edits, I’m not alone in rooting for these two. “Embarrassing but I go feral for stephen and lucy,” one TikTok commenter wrote. “Maybe it’s just me but this show is better when these two are on screen together,” said another creator.

Their Dynamic Is A Trainwreck, But It Feels Familiar

There’s so much about this show that feels specifically coded to the college experience, but the toxic “you’re an *sshole but I can’t resist you” vibe is the thing that hits the hardest.

The scene in Season 2, Episode 2 where Stephen taunts Lucy about not really hating him? The bed chem emanating from the screen almost took me to my knees. I’ve felt that visceral, chemical attraction to a person who told me his 10-year plan was to have a “yacht stocked with hoes.”

Lucy is so deeply unwell over this man that it’s physically painful to watch. She’s blowing up her life to get his attention. As one TikToker put it, she’s so down bad that we’re witnessing a canon event.

It’s like watching a slow-moving car crash, except the car in question has French tips and is giving me flashbacks to the guy I dated for two years who dumped me mid-beer pong swing — and then I stayed until the end of the party. Not all nostalgia makes for a punchy Taylor Swift song complete with a full-circle feeling. Sometimes nostalgia is watching Lucy and Stephen show up to a costume party wearing matching trash bags and hoping Lucy sees the symbolism even when 19-year-old you couldn’t.

Stephen’s Plots Are So Deranged They’re Kind Of Hot

The online hype around Tell Me Lies reminds me of when Netflix introduced us to You’s resident serial killer Joe Goldberg. Remember when people were asking Penn Badgley to kidnap them, please? No disrespect to Joe, but all he did was bury bodies. Stephen is desecrating graves.

Creating an entire TA position in Lucy’s class to force her into dropping it? The air left my lungs. Goading Leo into a fight so Lucy would think Stephen was the good guy? I will be speaking to my therapist about how turned on I was by that little bloody smirk as he watched his plan fall into place.

Then there’s the diabolical revenge plot he pulled off in the season finale — a feat of technology so impractical that I have to applaud him. “The devil works hard, but Stephen DeMarco works harder,” one TikToker wrote over the scene of Stephen recording Evan’s hookup confession. Not even a sh*tty first-gen iPhone or eight years of transferring data between devices could stop him from coming out on top.

Maybe it’s that blatant immorality that keeps Lucy (and the audience) coming back for more. When was the last time a red-blooded American man was this honest about his motives? Lucy sees Stephen for exactly what he is: a bad person. I’m not saying it's healthy, but when we’re working with a dating bar that exists at a subterranean level, Lucy and Stephen’s understanding of each other is almost revelatory to watch.

Lucy Is Just As Evil, Even If She Tries Not To Be

As terrible as Stephen is, Lucy is equally dangerous. In the 2008 timeline, our anti-hero still has some semblance of a moral code. She may do questionable things, like sleep with two exes in one day or screw over her best friends, but she still wants to be a better person. “I literally cannot exist with this secret anymore,” she tells Stephen before trying to confess that she wrote that anonymous letter about Drew. Stephen takes the fall for her (swoon!), but she still shows a willingness to come clean.

Lucy and Stephen’s dynamic lets us watch all the what-ifs of a toxic relationship play out without any real-life consequences.

Cut to 2015, and Lucy is a full-on emotional manipulator. She’s using her boyfriend Max like her own personal human grenade. “I bet you still think you’re the victim,” Max says to her in the Season 2 finale after finding out she orchestrated their pool hookup to get a rise out of her ex.

If Season 1 Lucy was a doormat, Season 2 Lucy is becoming an equal player in Stephen’s game. Maybe I wouldn’t have forwarded a vile text from my ex to his family members, but maybe I should have. Lucy and Stephen’s dynamic lets us watch all the what-ifs of a toxic relationship play out without any real-life consequences. What if you had gotten back together with that “DO NOT ANSWER CALL” ex? What if you had played along with the mind games? We don’t get that if Lucy and Stephen grow up and get over each other.

Ultimately, They Deserve Each Other

Both of these people are so toxic that if you fell into a vat of their essence, you would emerge as some sort of Marvel character. This isn’t a couple who deserves to be happy; this is a couple who deserves to have their bloodlines cursed so there’s no chance of this unholy union recurring again in future generations.

But Tell Me Lies is a show unconcerned with its own carnage. Lucy and Stephen’s cruelty isn’t a plot device for growth and self-reflection… it’s actually the whole point. Rather than watching these characters learn something, we get to revel in their toxicity from a healthy distance (as far away from this fictional college campus as possible).

I’m perfectly content watching Lucy and Stephen decimate whole civilizations if that means we’ll get them back for more seasons. If loving this couple is wrong, I don’t want to be right.