“I was thinking, what if I came out? I really want to. I’m definitely bisexual. And I don’t want to have to sneak around pretending we’re platonic BFFs. I want to tell the people who matter.”

As our final episode of the first series of Heartstopper opens, it is shrouded within the hazy, foggy, deep, dark clouds of unresolved conflicts from episode seven. Our friend group of heroes is broken and the two main conflicts of the series (Nick’s coming out and Tao’s resistance to change) have shattered and converged directly upon Charlie. As I remarked in my response to episode seven, the two conflicts of our series have been ignited by a singular cause: the bullies themselves. If they didn’t exist, then Nick and Charlie could carry on with their relationship and Tao wouldn’t’ve had a difficult time accepting Nick into their friend group, allowing Charlie to be open with Tao about his relationship with Nick from the very start.

But the bullies do exist, and so our cast of hearts of gold find themselves enmeshed in two bitter conflicts: Nick’s inability to come out because he is afraid of confusing and surprising people and Tao’s inability to understand that Nick isn’t like the other “loud, gross year 11s” that he’s associated with. It is really difficult to see how these amazing hearts of gold could possibly find a way forward through all the heartache the bullies have caused, but we were given incredible clues way back in episode three that assured us that our core cast of heroes will be absolutely fine in the end.

The moment I’m referring to is when Tara and Darcy are dancing in the ballroom at Harry’s party, they eventually share an impassioned kiss, and Nick looks on in amazed wonderment. I had described this scene as a moment that thoroughly, utterly, and transcendently transfigured my hope and optimism for a possible world that ought to be, because as Tara and Darcy kiss, the music of Chvrches’ “Clearest Blue” erupts to an incredible climax, the screen flares with a celebration of the colors of the rainbow, and Nick is lit in pulsing lights of the bisexual pride flag. These visual clues all point to a way forward for Nick: he is bisexual, and the only way for him to move forward is to embrace his sexuality as openly and honestly as Tara and Darcy do theirs. But this can be very scary.

And as scary as that is, however, the lyrics of the Chvrches tune remind us that—despite all the shrieks of the seemingly insurmountable odds of gross bullies, ugly bigotry, appalling injustice, and fanatic evil—it is brightest lights of indestructible hope, unwavering friendship, and enduring love that will defy these oppressive cruelties: “Light is all over us like it always was,” they emphatically declare. And the light of hope, friendship, and love is, indeed, all over us and will outshine the worlds of terrible bullies and bigoted hatred. But the tune continues on, informing us that it is a light “shaped by the clearest blue.” Earlier in this same episode, the color blue was used in the rugby changing room to represent Nick’s conflict of trying to live up to the expectations of others, and during key moments throughout the succeeding episodes, blue was used as a symbol for moments where our characters were caught in lies and conflicts.

But for every lie there is a truth, and truth was consistently represented in Nick and Charlie’s form classroom, always lit in bright, golden, sunshiny hues; and those warmer colors of gold and orange were used at other keys moments as symbols of strength, honesty, and hope, pointing towards a future that will get better, providing a vision for the way things ought to be. And as we’ll see as this glorious first series of Heartstopper comes to a conclusion with its eighth episode, “Boyfriend,” these colors—in addition to a handful of other visual cues—continue to provide us with those reassuring clues that our cast of golden heroes will turn out not just fine, but gloriously brilliant, and that light is all around us appearing not only as comforting reassurances of glittery golds and blazing oranges but also cautionary premonitions of frosty blues. But it is always the light of brightest shining stars that will outshine those depressed worlds of terror, and whole universes will erupt in celebrations of hope, happiness, friendship, and love.

But we still have a journey to make to arrive at that celebration, so we join the episode in Charlie’s bedroom, and it is curiously lit much more severely in tones of blue rather than the sunshiny hues we’ve tended to see it lit in. Tao has been ignoring his text, so Charlie begins loudly striking his drums causing much noise despite also wearing his headphones, which causes Tori to enter, throwing a book at him to stop, a lovely reinvention of surprising Charlie not by suddenly appearing and disrupting his visual landscape but by unexpectedly removing him from his own, separate soundscape. Charlie reveals to Tori that he still thinks that Tao and Nick’s separate fights with Harry are both his fault, despite Nick telling him otherwise just last episode. But it goes deeper than that: he also reveals that Ben made him feel as if he was ruining Ben’s life just by existing, and now he feels as if he ruins everybody’s lives since Nick is getting into fights, and we can infer that he feels he’s ruining Tao’s life as well.

This is another one of this show’s importantly meaningful moments that shines that hazy, dingy light on the dark underside of a messed up world. Because we live in a world that assumes heterosexuality, this forces us queers to disrupt those assumptions by stepping out of the closet. I agonized for years about what I was, an agony that disrupted any chance of a normal childhood due to my own assumptions of a heterosexual world. And then we have to disrupt the lives of those around us when we find the courage to step out of the closet, and this inconvenient truth shakes worlds. And it is tiring and stressful.

But it is the assumptions that are causing the need for disruptions. And those of us who are lucky will find we only moderately disrupt the status quo for a little bit until we ourselves become a part of a new assumption. But there are many queers out there whose families shatter entirely, and some of us misplace blame on the mere fact of existing. And we sometimes take extraordinary measures to end our existence entirely. But how fortunate Charlie is in this lonely moment to have a loving sister like Tori, who hugs him closely, and emphatically states, holding back tears, “You’re not ruining my life,” in a transcendent moment that displays her “older sister magic” in such a touchingly hopeful way. I’ve really grown to love Tori’s character, and these eight episodes have allowed us to see her loving relationship with Charlie unpeeled, layer by layer, in such a consistently meaningful way. It’s really quite lovely.

The appearance of Tori’s words mark the moment in the series where our heroes begin to navigate their way out of all the shards of glass from the previous episode, and the title screen displays a beach with the sound of seagulls, recalling the very end of episode one, when Nick’s mum is driving him home and he’s beaming because of receiving Charlie’s text following his gross fight with Ben, “thank you x,” and animations of seagulls take flight across the screen. The titles also give us another clue in the form of the predominantly blue-green hues against a golden, sandy beach, pointing towards a new meaning—a new assumption—for the color blue, which will become increasingly apparent as this episode progresses.

However, Charlie needs one more reminder, a moment of tough love, that he isn’t ruining people’s lives and that choosing to disappear isn’t the answer. When we join Charlie at school, he sits down next to Isaac and Tao in class, and Tao is still clearly very upset with Charlie. Charlie tries to begin to repair things by suggesting they all do the javelin at the upcoming sports day event, but Tao coldly reminds him that he’s on the rugby team, which always plays a match at the end of the sports day, and so they won’t be able to do the same event this year, rugby in this moment recalling episode four when the sport was a symbol for the danger that Charlie puts himself in by associating with the rugby lads. So Charlie decides to tell Coach Singh that he’s quitting the rugby team. He also passes Nick in the hall, on the verge of tears, as he tells Nick he can’t have lunch with him. Later on, we also see him ignore Nick’s texts, and then as the sports day is getting started, Charlie even makes eye contact with Nick as they are all choosing a red or blue sports day bib (i.e. jersey), and he turns his back on Nick to avoid him again. Charlie is choosing to disappear, and it is heartbreaking.

This avoidance is just so hard to watch, and it continues on when Charlie goes to Mr. Ajayi’s art room, where his mentor comments that he’s been coming into the art room a lot recently. And this is where we hear Mr. Ajayi’s sage advice that I had referenced in my responses to episodes five and six: “When I was at school, I thought that hiding from it all was safer, easier. But sometimes the loneliness was just as bad. Don’t let anyone make you disappear, Charlie.” This wisdom, along with Tori’s emphatic declaration that he doesn’t ruin her life, provides Charlie with just enough extra momentum to get him to find the will to work a way out of the two conflicts he finds himself enmeshed in.

But Charlie will continue to get even a little more help navigating out of this, as Nick and Tao also are both able to begin to fully see their two conflicts and how they’ve converged upon Charlie. Earlier in the episode, Nick and Tao share a tough, honest chat together over lunch at school. Nick’s conflict comes into sharp focus pretty readily when he admits, “I think maybe he’s finding it hard having to lie to people about us. He’s not angry about me being in the closet or anything. He knows I’m not ready to come out.” And then Tao sympathizes with how Charlie struggles with how his very existence affects people: “He’s always had a tendency to believe that him just existing is annoying for other people. He’s not going to force you to come out, but he probably wants to be something more than secret-guy-you-kiss-sometimes-on-the-downlow. If you can’t give him more than that, it’s always going to make him feel a little bit crap about himself.” And in that moment, Nick’s conflict shifts away from Charlie and back towards Nick, where that prescient moment in episode three that foreshadowed Nick’s bisexuality and his way forward out of the closet, becomes even closer to reality. But the look of fear on Nick’s face is another one of those meaningful moments that reflects reality so cleary the pains we queers feel when we realize that the loneliness of hiding in the closet is worse than disrupting the assumptions around us. And Nick knows full well what to do next, as scary as that is.

Tao’s conflict, meanwhile, also begins to shift back towards Tao and away from Charlie. But this conflict remains more of a shared chore between our two best friends. While Tao angrily exclaims to Nick that his fears came true that Charlie would get bullied by the rugby lads by allowing their friend group to change by associating with Nick, Nick adds another layer to the conflict: “I think Charlie might be nervous about telling you [about me and him] because he really cares about your opinion. Because he loves you a lot.” Tao still seems unpersuaded by this remark, and it’s not without reason. He reveals that he thinks Charlie doesn’t appreciate that his resistance to allow the friend group to change was motivated by a desire to protect him from the bullies. And way back in episode four, Charlie even coldly revealed to Nick that his friends just need to “deal with it” that he’s ditching Tao and Isaac to have lunch with him. I specifically called that moment out as an uncharacteristically frosty remark coming from Charlie, but we will soon see this comment come full circle as Tao’s conflict begins to resolve.

Yet while the conversation with Nick and Tao still concludes within notes of uncertainty despite a strong display of tough love throughout the chat, it is so telling that the conversation happens outside on a school picnic table that has been painted gold, that color of warmth and honesty we’ve come to know will point towards that better future. And we also see this optimism reassured again when we see Elle, Tara, and Darcy, wearing golden shirts, walking towards Truham to begin the Truham-Higgs sports day. While Elle still seems anxious that she’s returning to Truham (recall that the two schools are a symbol for her transition from male to female, Truman itself recalling her past marked with bullying and misgendering), she still positively remarks, “I want to do this!” and the trio skips away towards the school, hand in hand, smiles on their faces. This moment shows that when you choose not to hide from it all, proceeding outwards and onwards, that things will get better, and our journey towards the celebration of hope, happiness, friendship, and love continues to draw nearer and nearer with a steadfast resolve and an assured confidence.

And that confidence towards our celebration comes soon enough when Charlie goes to Tao right as the running event is getting started. Tao’s been drafted into running, but Charlie offers to take his place since he is such a bad runner. They swap bibs, Charlie now dawning blue, and says, “I’m just sorry. Sorry for everything.” Not only do we see a visual cue that the weight of Tao’s conflict seems to be squarely back on Charlie, we can see in Tao’s face that he understands this now too. Once the race is over, Tao and Charlie meet, they hug with a conviction of enduring friendship, and they both gush forth their apologies, and it is such a sweet, sensitive moment. I wrote way back in episode one (in the fourth paragraph, to be precise) that this show is about a cast of characters that acknowledge their faults, change their habits, and express their love. And it is here on full display as Tao admits his fault, “I made it so hard for you to tell me,” and Charlie admits, “I should’ve been looking out for you as much as you were looking out for me.” What a scene for the ages! What an example these characters can provide us all! What a world we can strive to live in! This is why this show is so amazing, that through all the hardships, there is still an optimistically hopeful way forward.

However, we can see it clearly on Charlie’s worried face after Tao leaves the shot that there is still one more conflict to resolve, but we again are provided those incredible clues that our march towards our celebration will continue undeterred: two seagulls take flight across the screen, recalling the optimistic concluding moments of episode one and foreshadowing an abundantly hopeful conclusion to episode eight, as we will soon see.

Before long, the rugby match between teams red and blue gets underway, and as the match is about to start, Nick looks around at the crowd, unable to spot Charlie, and it’s clear from Nick’s face that he is so sad not to see him. Soon, however, Charlie does appear to watch the match, and eventually Nick does spot Charlie in the crowd. And the music of series composer Adiescar Chase plays its hopeful tune, a strong yet subtle rhythmic pattern in the bass recalling a heartbeat, our hearts taking a moment to stop, as it were, and reassess. And in a moment that is so sappy yet so amazing and wonderful and magical that the fact that it’s sappy doesn’t even bother me, Nick leaves the pitch, goes to Charlie, takes him by the hand, the whole world to see, a sunbeam creating a prismatic rainbow as they touch, our core cast of heroes looking on in amazed wonderment, faces beaming with smiles, and we know in this moment that our amazing hearts of gold will be gloriously brilliant.

Nick takes Charlie into one of the school corridors and reveals his heart—bravely, softly, forcefully, assuredly, and passionately:

“I don’t want to break up. I know people have hurt you, and you feel like I’d be better off without you, but I need you to know my life is way better because I met you. I’ll keep on saying it until you believe me. I don’t care about getting into fights or pissing off my mates or anything like that. It’s all worth it to be with you. You are the kindest, most thoughtful, caring, and amazing person in the whole world. And if you really want to break up, then I would respect your decision. But I want us to be together! You are my favorite person! I need you to believe me!”

And Charlie emphatically declares, “I believe you!” And they kiss, right in the corridor. What another incredible scene for the ages! What an incredible moment! What love on display!

Curiously, however, this loving scene takes place while Charlie is still wearing his blue bib, and the corridors are also unmistakably blue, and we would rather expect those optimistic golds and oranges to figure much more prominently during a scene filled with such love and hope. And blue will continue to unexpectedly figure more prominently in shots as the episode reaches its hopeful conclusion, but a song by Sunflower Bean, “Moment in the Sun,” begins to play as Nick and Charlie kiss in the blue corridor, and the lyrics declare that, “I want to feel them all.” It is here where the color blue has now become a part of a new assumption. All light is all around us, including blue, and blue is no longer to be feared for its lies and conflicts. Rather, it is to be embraced as a necessary reminder for when to put our guards up, when to be cautious, and when to allow a healthy amount of fear to enter into our realms to alert us when something might be the matter. I’ll be curious to see how this show uses colors in the next two series.

What follows as the episode marches towards its conclusion is that date that Charlie and Nick said they should go on back in episode six. And it’s everything you’d expect between two young lovers celebrating their relationship together: it’s hopelessly cute as they take photos of themselves in a booth, it’s unapologetically sappy as they ride a merry-go-round, and it’s gloriously elated as they share a private moment lying on the beach side by side, those seagulls we remember from episode one appearing one last time, bringing this whole first series to a triumphant conclusion. It’s triumphant not only for the reasons we’ve already seen, but also because Nick reveals to Charlie that he is bisexual and he wants to come out, and he’s ready to no longer hide in the shadows of the closet. “Does this mean we’re boyfriends?” Charlie sheepishly asks, and Nick resoundingly, if somewhat frustratingly, declares, “Yes! Was that not established the last ten times we made out?” And Charlie responds with a smile, “We never confirmed it,” adding with a laugh, “Why are we like this?” And Nick scoops Charlie up in his arms, brings him to the shore, and declares for all to hear, “You’re my boyfriend! I’m your boyfriend! We’re boyfriends!”

This celebration of love continues when Nick makes his way back home, his mum sitting at the table, and we’re treated to another one of those lovely scenes between Kit Connor and Olivia Colman. As I mentioned so many times over, it is such a delight when these two share the screen together, and that is ever more so true here. This final scene between mother and son captures a reality that should be true for all. It’s clear that Nick is getting ready to tell his mum something deeply serious as he prepares a cup of tea. When he sits down next to his mum, his eyes begin to well up with tears, and his mum knows that something extraordinary is about to happen, Nick allowing his real personality to be completely unburied and revealed. Olivia Colman delicately leans in as Kit Connor begins to speak, her eyes now also shimmering and sparkling with tears, and Nick begins to disrupt those assumptions of a heteronormative world, a moment that is intensely scary for so many of us queers, and he reveals about Charlie, “He’s my boyfriend. Charlie’s my boyfriend. I still like girls, but I like boys too. And me and Charlie, we’re going out. And I just wanted you to know.” And in a moment that shows how adaptable Nick’s mum is to accepting a new assumption, providing us with a vision for the way things ought to be, she hugs him closely and says, “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that,” in one breath acknowledging her heteronormative comments from episodes five and six, fixing them entirely. And when Nick reveals how long he and Charlie have been together, they hug one more time, and his mum says, “I love you!” Three incredible scenes for the ages all in one episode! I don’t know if I can manage to take any more happiness in!

All of this said, I have obsessed at length about how this show provides us with remarkable role models that we can all aspire to be, and I want to make clear that any remarks I’ve made about the hard times we queers have endured should not be construed to suggest any illwill I have towards those closest to me. It’s not your fault. Rather, we must remember that these characters are incredible role models; they are not us. And sometimes role models, especially fictional ones, can be frustratingly perfect. And we as imperfect humans go through life, we will mess up, we will say the wrong things, and we will sometimes move backwards rather than forwards. And that’s okay. We make these mistakes while embracing a spirit of learning and growth and progress, and glorious shows like Heartstopper can provide us with incredible maps to reveal a hopeful way forward. And that is absolutely fantastic.

And as this glorious first series of Heartstopper comes to a close with that celebration I promised would come—a celebration of hope, happiness, friendship, and love—the last images we see are of Nick and Charlie sharing the tenderest moment together back on the beach, lying arm in arm, the golden sands reminding us of warmth and comfort, a blue beach towel reminding us of a new assumption that all light is around us, the optimistic music of Chairlift proclaiming, “I Belong in Your Arms,” and it fills me with such happiness that such glorious television could ever evoke such joy, such hope, and such love… whole beacons of light shining the way forward. This is the world I want us all to strive for. These are the people I want us all to admire. These are the dreams and visions I want us all to embrace. And I can’t wait to see what beacons of light we will get to see next series as these incredible stories continue…

Final musings for episode 8:

1. As I remarked back in episode four, I really fell in love with Coach Singh as she stands up for Charlie: “Lots of gay people are good at sports, Charlie!” In this episode, when Charlie tells her that he’s quitting rugby, she’s clearly visibly hurt but also quickly inquires, “Have the boys been giving you a hard time? Do I need to talk to anyone?” All gym teachers should have such compassion for nerdy boys! And what an example Coach Singh is!
2. I love the moment when Nick and Tao have their honest conversation at lunch, and Nick tells Tao he should try rugby because it’s good at releasing negative emotions. Tao’s incredulous face, eyebrows raised skeptically, is priceless!
3. There’s also a scene between Elle and Tao that is just absolutely lovely, and it foreshadows events to come in a second series: their growing love for each other, not as best friends, but as boyfriend and girlfriend. They lie on their backs together on a table and Elle asks, “Is it awful being at Truham without me?” and without a beat, Tao declares, “Yes! Everything’s awful without you.” They both then sit up, and we’re treated to one of those gloriously underplayed reaction shots from Yazmin Finney as she takes William Gao’s hand, stares into his eyes, expresses a face filled with subdued fear and love, and says, “I was gonna tell you something.” And while she isn’t able to reveal what she’s thinking yet, we know in this moment that this story will continue to develop next series.
4. I just love the shot of Charlie and Nick waiting for the train at one of those impossibly English train stations built of bricks, a rainbow in the background. I also couldn’t help but be reminded of the Pevensie children waiting at a similar train station in Prince Caspian. But those books are terribly problematic, yet here that image is reinvented into a new, better assumption of a world unshackled by oppressive religions.
5. Also make sure you catch series creator and writer Alice Oseman appearing in the train as she sits to the left of Charlie and Nick as they make their way to their seaside getaway. Reportedly, she was drawing Nick and Charlie as they filmed this scene.
6. Don’t forget to also catch that unmistakable voice of Stephen Fry who returns in episode eight after being absent since episode one as the voice of the headmaster over the school’s tannoy.
7. Lastly, I realize that all my verbose thoughts about this silliness of colors could very well be something I invented entirely out of thin air and has no bearing in evidence. Yet it is still something I noticed and it made this show more meaningful to me. I hope it’s also more meaningful to you. It’s hard for me to accept that the makers of this show weren’t also deliberately planning these color palettes in intense detail to enrich the narratives of this incredible series. It just can’t be a coincidence that these patterns exist without thought and within chaos. The makers admit so themselves that certain lightings were very deliberate, and if I happened to notice other patterns—however seemingly unconscious on the part of the makers of this show—it’s still absolutely fantastic. And I love it! Please watch this incredible show, and walk with me as we journey towards a more perfect cosmos.

“People shouldn’t be saying stuff about you in the first place. You shouldn’t have to put up with anything like that. I don’t even want to be friends with those people anymore. I’m tired of all of them.”

In episode six, we saw how our main characters provide us with remarkable examples of beacons of hope with hearts of gold, bright glittering stars outshining worlds of terror, and it seemed as if nothing could stamp out those infinite lights of happiness, friendship, and love, the episode concluding with unshakable hope and optimism, Nick sitting down to enjoy an orchestra concert with his friends, the orchestra literally lit by three spotlights, one each for the beacons of hope playing in the orchestra: Darcy, Tara, and Charlie. Yet, back in episode four, I wrote that sometimes a story concludes on a note of deeply troubling uncertainty, presenting a world where sometimes bullies win, stamping out the bright, shining stars of our heroes, suspending the ongoing, difficult work towards a better future, where the days of tomorrow may be darker than the days of today.

Sadly, it is in episode seven where so much seems to go wrong for our heroes, and we distressingly have to watch an episode where the bullies unequivocally win. But through all the heartache of seeing our cast of golden heroes being outmatched by the bullies, we begin to learn that the two conflicts of the series—Nick’s conflict of being true to himself and Tao’s conflict of resisting a changed friend group—are both informed by a singular cause: the bullies themselves. If the bullies didn’t exist, then Nick and Tao’s conflicts wouldn’t exist. But bullies do exist, and they stretch the limits of love and friendship to a breaking point in episode seven, causing terrible rifts in the close relationships we’ve grown to love over the previous six episodes. But in the face of this gross adversary, our heroes will learn that the loneliness of hiding from the bullies is just as bad as the bullies themselves. The hard work must go on, even when the challenges seem impossibly insurmountable. And sometimes great lengths are required to outshine those worlds of terror.

The episode opens with Charlie nervously checking his hair, something he’s consistently done in the previous six episodes whenever he’s about to see or hang out with Nick, and for a brief moment, this visual cue seems to suggest Charlie and Nick might just be going out on a date, both having agreed that that’s something they should do someday since they enjoyed their triple date with Tao, Elle, Tara, and Darcy so much in episode six. Soon Charlie’s sister, Tori, appears in her characteristic fashion, suddenly and unexpectedly, surprising Charlie. I remarked back in episode one that this is Tori’s running gag, suddenly appearing in the corner, large drink held in both hands, surprising Charlie, and it’s still so consistently sweet in episode seven as it was when it happened the first time in episode one. “Older sister magic,” she comments when Charlie wonders how she’s able to appear out of nowhere. We’ll see more of that older sister magic next episode, albeit in a more sensitively touching manner than the comedic way we see here; and it’s a moment that will confirm, without a doubt, how close Tori and Charlie’s brother/sister relationship is.

Charlie eventually reveals to Tori that he and Nick are going out and that he’s getting ready not for a date but for a movie night at the cinema with Nick’s friends. While Tori is happy that he and Nick are together, (“Called it. I’m happy for you,” she remarks), she knows Nick’s friends from parties and remarks that they don’t seem as nice compared to Nick. It’s the first comment this episode that’s foreshadowing horrible events to come, and while what is about to come is horrible, we are still provided with those clever visual cues this show is so adept at: Charlie’s room is lit brightly in those sunshiny hues that we’ve come to associate with comfort and warmth. It at once helps us to understand how warm and comforting Tori and Charlie’s relationship is, but also that despite the hardships that the bullies cause that we’ll see this episode, there will still always be bright, glittering stars outshining worlds of terror championing a future world where things will get better.

But we also are forewarned that the night at the cinema may not go as magically as Charlie would like when Charlie’s dad cautions him when he drops him off, “If any of those boys says anything, does anything nasty, you just call me, okay?” Charlie still seems undeterred, remarking that he’ll be fine since Nick is there, but the look of worry on his dad’s face is still so sad to see, not only because of how the episode will reveal how nasty the bullies really can be, but also because his dad saw how hurt Charlie was back in episode three, breaking down in tears in the car, his dad hugging him closely and comforting him, “It’s okay, I’ve got you, everything’s going to be okay.” We only have these few scenes with Charlie’s dad in all eight of these initial episodes, and they are more examples of how adept this show is with providing so much with so little, presenting a loving father/son relationship in brief scenes worth so many words. And while we only hear Charlie’s dad speak a handful of lines, it’s still more than enough for us to appreciate how much he loves his son.

Nick eventually greets Charlie with a warm hug in the car park before they enter the cinema, and as they make their way down the escalator, Nick reassures Charlie by telling him that he’ll be fine with his friends since Ben and Harry aren’t coming. But we soon see that Ben and Harry have come, the screen cuts to the title screen, “Bully,” and the image shatters, a broken window, the cautiously optimistic music of Adiescar Chase suddenly truncated at the sound of cracked glass, forewarning us that things aren’t going to go the way any of us want, the looks on Charlie and Nick’s faces of profound worry and sadness telling us so much with so little.

And it continues to get worse, and Nick knows it, as Ben has the audacity to remark loudly enough for everyone to hear that he’s never spoken to Charlie. So Nick takes Charlie to the popcorn stand to try to put him at ease, but Charlie says he’s not very hungry. The look of worry on Charlie’s face is so, so heartbreaking, and this show is again reflecting realty in a really meaningful way, shining a murky, grey light on the very real pains we queers feel when the bullies disrupt our lives. But Nick’s bright, glittering, golden light of hope burns infinitely and brightly, and we’re treated to one of those moments that I promised would come every episode, a moment that persistently champions a promise of a hopeful future where things will get better, providing a vision for the way things ought to be.

In this case, it’s our star rugby lad, who’s already fallen for the gay nerd, championing the lonely, powerless outcast, as we saw him do in episode three at Harry’s party when he called out Harry’s homophobic comments. Nick takes Charlie gently by his forearm, Charlie brightening up a bit with a delicate smile, the hopelessly optimistic music of Adiescar Chase igniting a tender moment as soon as Nick takes Charlie by the arm, and Nick says, “Char, are you okay? I honestly had no idea they’d be here. I wouldn’t’ve suggested we’d come otherwise.” And Charlie just has his breath taken away by Nick’s sensitivity, being called Char, the first time we hear him call Charlie this endearing name, and Charlie remarks, “Oh my god! Say it again! Go on! I like it! It’s cute!” Such a touching moment during an episode filled with too many challenges for our heroes to handle.

And then later when we see Nick and Charlie sitting next to each other in the cinema, Nick continues to provide that beacon of light and hope to Charlie, taking him delicately by his hand, animations of sparks and stars igniting between them. But instead of golden and bright animations that we saw in episodes two and three during similar moments of physical contact between Nick and Charlie’s hands, these animations are colored blue, the color we’ve come to associate with conflicts and lies. The color of these tiny animations not only foreshadows large, dark clouds on the very near horizon, but also the secret that Nick is still asking Charlie to keep. And as we saw last episode when Charlie remarked, “If people guessed we were together, if they started saying stuff about you, then I really don’t want you to have to deal with that,” it’s clear how important it is to Charlie to keep things a secret in order to make sure Nick doesn’t get hurt. And in a moment, we’ll see how far Charlie is able to take that secret.

Things quickly go terribly wrong when the movie is over. While Nick and Charlie get to share some fun banter about how scary the film was, Harry quickly interrupts this and starts humiliating Charlie with a bunch of questions, “What’s it like being gay? Do you like musicals? What about Nick? Do you think he’s hot?” And we then see how far Charlie honors Nick’s desire to keep everything a secret: “Are you joking? Nick’s not even my type.” When Charlie finds the will in this moment to express something so untrue, the heightened looks on Charlie and Nick’s faces of profound worry is more heartbreaking than Harry’s bullying. Nick now sees how far Charlie is willing to lie for him, and we see the strength Charlie has to conjure the lies. But it gets worse when later on, Ben corners Charlie in the car park, who demands to know if he’s going out with Nick, having seen both of them hold hands in the cinema, and Charlie—nearly on the verge of tears—denies that anything is happening. “Don’t lie!” Ben commands, but Charlie will lie for Nick in order to protect them both, and it is so hard to witness the terrible conflict that Nick and Charlie find themselves both in because of Nick’s inability to yet be fully out of the closet.

While there have been so many moments in this series that filled me with such incredible happiness that I didn’t have enough room in my heart to keep it all to myself, these scenes at the cinema are the first time that I’ve become filled with so much profound sadness that I don’t have enough room in my heart to keep it locked away. But we’ve seen this series deal with hard moments like this before, and it still remains so important and so meaningful that this show addresses these very real conflicts with such a delicate sensitivity to the very real reality the effects these challenges have on us queers. And this remains a necessary story to tell in order to provide a real reflection of the pains we queers feel as we figure out who we are.

And the pain Nick was feeling as he saw Charlie lie for him in front of all the rugby lads was too much, so he corners them all after Charlie has left the cinema. “Go on then, what’s your problem with Charlie?” he demands to know of Harry, and in another moment that allows Nick’s bright, shining beacon of hope to glitter intensely, he calls out all of Harry’s homophobia in front of all the rugby lads: “Just shut up, Harry! You made him so uncomfortable with your gay questions. You saw the perfect opportunity to make someone feel miserable and humiliated.” But Harry has none of it, calling Charlie a pathetic, little fag. Nick has no choice but to punch Harry, the whole encounter escalating into a terrible, terrible brawl. And while all of this is so distressing to watch, it is so important to see Nick’s frustration expressed in such a raw and bloody way, as it shows us all how important Charlie is to Nick, standing up to the bullies for Charlie.

Even Nick’s mum comments on that very fact when she’s driving him home afterwards, Nick revealing to her that Harry used a really bad word, which ultimately pushed the whole fight over the edge. And Olivia Colman, in her infinitely attuned attention to subtle sensitivity in her performance, remarks, “I see. Charlie’s a really special friend, isn’t he?” But before she knew all the details about why Nick felt he needed to brawl with Harry, she comments, “Sweetheart, fighting’s not the answer.” But sometimes I wonder if it is the answer, Nick’s mum herself also understanding more about the need for fists after someone crosses a line too far with a nasty word. Additionally, last episode when Darcy was comforting Tara about all the mean things their classmates were saying about them, Darcy sweetly says she has cheese she can throw at them, remarking, “It always pays to be prepared with anti-homophobia cheese.” And while this moment of levity was so sweet as the show addressed bullying in a different way, and in the same way Nick’s mum understands more about what prompted Nick’s fight with Harry, sometimes I don’t think anti-homophobia cheese is enough to stamp out the bullies, that sometimes fists are required for our bright glittering stars to outshine worlds of terror. But I also don’t really know for sure if that really is the answer. What do you think?

The next morning when Charlie is walking past the school gate, he sees that Harry’s lip is busted up, and so Charlie quickly finds Nick in form, sees his bruised eye, and worriedly asks, “What happened?” When Charlie learns the details of the fight, he responds, “Nick, you didn’t have to do that. I promise, I’m used to people saying stuff about me.” This isn’t the first time Charlie has said this, having already remarked similarly the previous night to Nick. Harry, likewise, had also commented to Nick that Charlie’s probably used to the bullying by now. Additionally, Ben had remarked that Charlie lets bullies walk all over him, and Tao later in this episode will comment to Elle that Charlie can’t stick up for himself.

And this is why we need those bright shining stars like Nick and Tao who are able to stand up to the bullies, because not all of us can. When Charlie comments to Nick that he’s used to putting up with the bullying, Nick shoots back, “You shouldn’t have to be. People shouldn’t be saying stuff about you in the first place. You shouldn’t have to put up with anything like that.” And Nick, after hearing Charlie apologizing for things that are out of his control, demands that he not utter the “s-word,” recalling the moment back in episode one when Nick intervened on Ben’s unwanted, rapey advances towards Charlie. How much history that word now shares between Nick and Charlie, and what a reminder it is how far the two have come, from a most unlikely pairing of two young boys commencing an unexpected journey to a strongly forged relationship between two young men who couldn’t seem more opposite to the other but who complement each other beautifully.

This scene ends in such a touching moment, the classroom brightly lit in those sunshiny hues we expect whenever we see Nick and Charlie in form together, reminding us of better days to come when those beacons of hope and optimism outshine worlds of terror. Nick finds it within himself to sweetly rest his head on Charlie’s shoulder, without a care in the world that others might see. It’s a small moment but a giant one that shows how far Nick has come out of the closet. He still has a few more steps to take, which will come to a triumphant celebration next episode, but in this moment we see what an amazing person Nick is, not that that was in any doubt before. But here we see his beacon of light on full display even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, a star rugby player championing and protecting our geeky, lanky, small, weak, lonely, powerless outcast who he loves so dearly and so compassionately.

But Charlie still struggles to reconcile his and Nick’s desire to be together at the expense of all the disruption their relationship has caused between Nick and all the rugby lads, even though Nick confided he’s tired of all of them and doesn’t want to be friends with them anymore. It’s clear this weighs heavily on Charlie’s mind as he struggles to find the right words to text him, the show characteristically using text messages to express Charlie’s inner frustrations: “I need to talk to you,” “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault you got into that fight,” “Are you sure you want us to be together?” before Charlie finally settles on and sends, “Can we meet for lunch tomorrow?” When they do meet for lunch, Charlie comes dangerously close to calling the whole relationship off and Nick can sense it coming too, but their conversation is interrupted by yet another horrible brawl, this time between Tao and Harry. And it’s at this moment where our two conflicts of the series—Nick’s coming out and Tao’s distrust of a changing friend group—directly converge upon Charlie, and it tragically breaks him as we’ll see next episode.

The brawl between Tao and Harry takes some time to escalate. Earlier in the episode, we get to witness a vulnerable moment between Tao and Elle as they have a conversation on a park bench. Tao reveals to Elle that maybe it wasn’t a good idea to stand up to Harry with his witty insults (dick nozzle and bellend and all that), only increasing the size of the targets on not only his back but Charlie’s as well. But Tao reveals that his desire to protect Charlie was borne out of how much he remembered how bad the bullying towards Charlie was the previous year, having previously way back in episode one remarked that Nick’s friends are exactly like the boys who bullied him. Elle then reveals to Tao that Charlie and Nick are together, commenting that she’s not surprised Nick started a fight with Harry because of how close they’ve become. It really deeply hurts Tao that Charlie was unable to tell him about Nick (“I feel so stupid,” he angrily exclaims), and he storms off.

Then later Elle comes over to Tao’s house to watch a film, and they share another sensitive moment together. Elle reveals that Charlie wants to tell him about Nick, and Tao comments that he thinks Charlie didn’t tell him about Nick because he might’ve been worried he’d accidentally say something to out Nick, adding that Charlie seems to care more for Nick’s feelings than his.

It’s so sad to see Tao feel so neglected like this, and it only gets worse the next day when Tao is having lunch alone (Isaac has library duty). And while Tao invites Charlie to lunch, he reveals that he’s having lunch with Nick, and Tao shoots back, “We’re barely friends anymore.” And then in that saddest and loneliest moment, Harry makes it even worse by bullying Tao, stealing a drawing he was working on for art class, and it’s here where Tao’s conflict to resist a changed friend group breaks and shatters, shoving Harry to the ground, splashing apple juice on his face, and exclaiming, “I hate you!” The brawl that develops between them is in many ways even more distressing to watch than the one between Nick and Harry earlier, all the other boys watching and cheering, the music of Lincoln’s “Smokey Eyes” blaring, intensifying this breaking point that I commented several times in previous posts would arrive right here in episode seven.

Nick and Charlie come running to the fight, Nick tears Harry off Tao before Harry is able to strike  a potentially nasty and ugly punch, and the whole friend group in this moment is broken and shattered just as the titles at the start of the episode predicted would happen. The limits of love and friendship have snapped. “Why didn’t you tell me about you and Nick? I thought we were friends, but you’ve forgotten about me! This is all your fault! Just leave me alone!” Tao angrily declares to Charlie, the blue color of the school building framed overwhelmingly in view behind Tao in the shot, adding to how much Tao’s conflict has stretched and broken.

And the full weight of Tao’s conflict and Nick’s conflict are now squarely placed heavily and torturously on Charlie’s back, and this is way too much for him to handle, especially when he already is inclined towards placing so much fault on himself for things out of his control.

Bullies do exist. And they are horrible and awful and terrible and cruel. And it remains important that we see that reality reflected so accurately in this episode. As without the bullies, Tao and Nick’s individual conflicts wouldn’t exist and wouldn’t converge upon Charlie in this nasty and gross moment.

How do bright shining beacons of hope have no choice but to confront these worlds of terror in equally violent ways? Is fighting really not the answer? I’m not sure I know the answers right now, but maybe someone else who is smarter than I am does.

As we’ll see in episode eight, however, we can at least immerse ourselves in an idealized world where we can aspire to create a future where things will get better, provide a vision for the way things ought to be, and model ourselves after fictional characters with brilliant hearts of gold, who—through all their disagreements, misunderstandings, and arguments—are able to acknowledge their faults, change their habits, express their love, and just be so terribly, genuinely, and thoughtfully friendly to each other. 

Final musings for episode 7:

1. I love the moment where Charlie comments that he’s worried Nick’s friends will think he’s a gay nerd, and Nick lovingly comments, “Well, you kind of are a gay nerd!” and Charlie shoots warmly back, “Shut up, rugby lad!”
2. Ben is so, so horrible when he corners Charlie in the car park: “As if anyone would ever want to go out with someone as desperate as you.” “You did,” Charlie says, and Ben continues firing more arrows, “Are you joking? You actually thought I liked you? You were there like some tragic loser with barely any friends, who ate lunch alone and let bullies walk over you.” This is another moment reflecting a tragic reality that is all too real and that leaves lasting marks. And my god, was high school horrible indeed…
3. I love the music that plays the morning after the night at the cinema as Nick and Tori ride the bus to school. It’s another tune by Beabadoobee, the same artist we heard in episode two when Nick and Charlie were playing in the snow, the tune in episode seven called “Tired.” And while at first the lyrics seem to foreshadow events between Nick and Charlie in episode eight, they rather more accurately seem to reflect how Nick feels about the rugby lads, “You haven’t been good for long. Maybe it’s time to say goodbye ‘cause I’m getting pretty tired.” The music is also just so expertly written and also so sensitively performed by singer Beatrice Laus.
4. When Elle comes over to Tao’s she brings some cookies and not biscuits. While we don’t really get to see exactly what the two enjoy, it’s possible that Elle really does mean cookies and isn’t dumbing the language down for Americans, as the British will use the term cookie to refer to the larger, sweeter, softer kind of baked good while biscuits are to be eaten with tea, sometimes also called—somewhat unappetizingly—digestives.

“Don’t feel like you have to come out to anyone before you’re ready. Being out is hard. A lot of people will see you in a different way, and it is a lot to deal with.”

Back in episode three, we were treated to a lovely moment between Tao and Elle in Tao’s bedroom during movie night, Elle remarking, “Sometimes change is a good thing,” mentioning that she’ll be okay at her new school, Higgs (the girls school itself a symbol for Elle’s transition from male to female). “That’s a good change, right?” and Tao agreed, “Yeah, it’s a good change.” Elle also commented that at first she was scared to make friends at Higgs but then realized she needed to put herself out there otherwise she’d end up alone. This sensitive moment between Tao and Elle not only addressed how change can be good but also that sometimes change is hard work which involves taking risks, surprising people, and placing ourselves in vulnerable situations. While it can be scary to make a decision like coming out of the closet, Mr. Ajayi in episode eight will tell Charlie (in a similar way Elle told Tao) that avoiding the challenges can be just as bad as the loneliness of hiding from them, and that that only causes us queers to disappear.

Similarly, Nick remarked to Imogen last episode, “Do you ever feel like you’re only doing things because everyone else is? And you’re scared to change? Or do something that might confuse or surprise people? Your real personality has been buried inside you for a really long time.” This is an important moment for Nick, because it shows that he understands that the loneliness of remaining untrue to himself is worse than the challenges of confusing and surprising people by revealing who he really is. In fact, in episode four, he also said he confused and surprised himself when he kissed Charlie for the first time while at Harry’s party. As we begin to make our way towards the conclusion of the series, in episode six, “Girls,” Nick’s conflict of keeping secrets begins to address how choosing to be honest and open can be a surprising change that confuses people, sometimes to devastating results, as we’ll see in episode seven. Fortunately, Nick now finds himself surrounded by some really amazing people who all have the most brilliant hearts of gold and who are so terribly, genuinely, and thoughtfully friendly to each other and who all provide the world with bright, shining beacons of hope for a world that will get better and a world where things will be the way they ought to be.

Meanwhile, Tao’s conflict of resisting the changes in the friend group begins to escalate because he also finds all these changes surprising and confusing, causing even Charlie to feel uncomfortable to be totally honest with him. Even Elle will remark that even though her recent changes have been good, she’s still had to deal with a lot of change lately and that too much change can be too much hard work. We will also see the conflicts of change play out in Darcy and Tara’s story as they deal with how their classmates react to their relationship, possibly foreshadowing things Nick may have to deal with in a second series. And while episode six will sensitively and delicately show how supportive our group of outcasts are as Nick and Tara and Darcy become more and more honest and open, this change will still deliver confusion and surprise that is just a little bit too much for some to handle, even closest friends like Tao.

The episode opens with another one of those amazing scenes between Olivia Colman and Kit Connor. I know I’ve said this before, but I just love seeing these two on screen together; their chemistry is reliably magnetic, and both actors bring such a sensitivity and warmth to the loving relationship that these two characters have. We get to watch them enjoy a pizza and movie night together, electing to watch Pirates of the Caribbean, Nick’s mum softly teasing him how much they used to watch it when he was eleven because he loved Keira Knightely so much. Nick seems embarrassed by this, Nick’s mum remarking, “What? She’s a very pretty girl.” We’ll return to these heteronormative comments later, as they seem to negate a little bit the loving relationship we observe on screen, but these comments will be beautifully resolved in a touching moment in episode eight, as we will soon see.

As Nick and his mum watch the movie, it’s clear that Nick still does seem to have a sexual attraction for Knightely, the camera going softly hazy as it struggles to focus on Nick’s eyes now mesmerized by her beauty. But his eyes also seem to be equally mesmerized by Orlando Bloom’s beauty as he and Knightely share a tender moment on screen together. Back in episode two, we got to observe Charlie comment to Tao and Isaac—who both had just referred to Nick as a “massive” and “ginormous heterosexual”—that not only can masculine guys be gay but also that “bisexual people exist.” It’s clear that Nick is feeling something for both actors on the screen, which prompts him to do a Google search not for “Am I gay?” as we saw in episodes two and three, but a search for bisexuality. Nick finds a vlogger (real-life Courtney Jai) who comments about how he has feelings for both boys and girls and how it felt “incredibly right” the first time he kissed a boy. Nick seems to see himself reflected so delicately in the vlogger, as the gently assured music of series composer Adiescar Chase provides a hopeful cue that Nick continues to make great strides in his journey towards truth and honesty, his Google search this time ending not in tears but in cautious optimism.

Later, however, the vlogger does comment how discovering his bisexuality involved lots of second-guessing, allowing a bit of frustration to seep through his commentary on his journey. And we also see that reflected in Nick as he begins to voice his questions aloud to his friends only to discover that their stories of self-discovery don’t seem to entirely reflect his or the vlogger’s. For example, we get to witness a tender moment between Nick and Charlie as they lie on a blanket together in a park, and Nick asks Charlie how he realized he was gay. And, as I commented back in my post for episode four, Charlie describes my story exactly as it was with me: “I’ve always been sort of aware of it even when I was really young. I didn’t understand it at the time, but it’s always been boys.” Even though this observation is a reflection of so many queers (Tara will also describe a similar experience later on in this episode), this doesn’t seem to reflect Nick’s journey, as he comments that that’s not how it has been for him and he still doesn’t know what he is. But Charlie is so sweet in this moment, comforting Nick, “You don’t have to figure it out right now,” Charlie’s brilliant heart of gold shining unapologetically as a beacon for Nick’s journey forwards and outwards.

While it’s clear that Nick is gradually revealing his true self, he still remains uncomfortable about so many things. As he and Charlie lean in together for a kiss in the park, a couple walks by and Nick quickly straightens up, removing himself from the tender moment out of fear of being noticed. But Charlie’s heart of gold shines brightly again as he comforts Nick not to be sorry that he’s unable to quite yet be fully himself. This is just another one of those lovely scenes that yet again shows the incredible chemistry Joe Locke and Kit Connor have on screen together, something that was already immediately obvious way back in episode one when they had their first conversation in the school corridor, but in this scene is all the more richer as an affectionate history between Nick and Charlie continues to broaden their characters and their relationship.

And Charlie isn’t the only bright, shining beacon of hope that Nick has in his life to guide him through the sometimes hazy, misty, grey, shadowy journey out of the closet. He also has Tara and Darcy. It’s during these many moments in episode six where this program’s themes of hope and optimism come into an especially sharp focus, shining a bright light on the way things ought to be. And while Heartstopper may present an impossibly idealistic world that may not necessarily be a reflection of reality, it is a vision and aspiration nonetheless that provides all of us—children, teenagers, and adults, regardless of our sexual identity—with a blueprint for how to behave, how to treat others, how to love ourselves, and how to love others.

Nick is provided such a blueprint while he has a lovely, private moment at school with Tara. The music students of Higgs and Truham both are coming together for the day to prepare for an orchestra concert. After Nick finishes walking Charlie to rehearsal and Charlie goes off to set up his drums, Tara comes by and asks Nick, “You and Charlie getting along well then?” We had already seen Nick reveal to Tara in episode three that Charlie is his best friend, but now we get to see Nick reveal to Tara, “We’re sort of going out,” and Tara just beams with happiness for him and is so accommodating when Nick asks her not to tell anyone else.

Later on, we also get to witness more shining beacons of hope when Nick, Tara, and Darcy all share lunch together, Darcy also equally happy for Nick, reacting in a way that is at once celebratory and also completely natural, the way it ought to be. Nick also reveals that Tara and Darcy are the first people he’s told about him and Charlie, and Tara in particular seems to feel incredibly honored that Nick felt so comfortable revealing all this to them both, placing an incredible trust within her about such a sensitive truth. “Does it feel good to have told someone?” Tara asks, and Nick, beaming, responds assuredly and optimistically, “Yeah, it really does,” Tara and Darcy sharing in his happiness to take a few more steps out of the closet. Later on, we also see Nick and Charlie doing homework together in Charlie’s bedroom, and Nick reveals to Charlie that he told Tara and Darcy that they are going out. “Oh my God, that’s amazing! You’re amazing!” Charlie exclaims as they share in some kisses, animations of flowers flitting about the screen.

I’ve remarked on this already, but this show just has so many moments like these that make me feel just so absolutely happy and hopeful, and the conversations between Nick, Tara, and Darcy and the moment Nick and Charlie share in Charlie’s bedroom are just more examples. But I think I might also partly be feeling a bit of melancholy that I did not have this kind of broad network of support during my adolescence, a great deal of that due to it being the 1990s, living in rural Minnesota, where shows like Queer as Folk weren’t even yet around; or bastions of liberalism like Star Trek are relegated to discussing queer issues in clumsily executed yet well-meaning episodes like “The Outcast” from The Next Generation, an example of an allegory that likely flew over most everyone’s heads; or supposedly liberal presidents championing a so-called “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” policy in the military, forcing us queers to disappear into the dark, shadowy corners of bottomless closets. Yet scenes like the moment Nick and Charlie share in Charlie’s bedroom help me to celebrate that kids can have adoringly loving friends like the ones we get to know in these first eight episodes of Heartstopper. And if this is hopelessly idealistic, then so be it! It is a much-needed vision of hope and love providing a beacon of light in a messed up world of would-be dictator presidents, rapist judges, do-nothing legislators, bigoted religions, violent aggressors, heartless murderers of elementary school children, and extremist white men holding bully pulpits of complacent hatred and poisonous evil.

And that evil is something that Heartstopper also doesn’t forget to address, even in the face of its cast of characters of bright, shining, golden heroes. Later in the episode when our group of outcasts are having milkshakes before the orchestra concert, Tara will remark that sharing certain things “changes everything, and not always for the better,” while sharing a knowing glance to Darcy. Tara is referring to her earlier observation to Nick: “Being out is hard. A lot of people will see you in a different way, and it is a lot to deal with,” and so it makes consistent sense that Tara would be so obliging to not tell anyone else about Nick and Charlie. Additionally, by this point in the series, all of Higgs knows that Tara and Darcy are lesbians and are dating, having posted more openly about it in their Instagrams. While their posts are celebrated by many with comments of congratulations and heart emojis, other comments disparagingly declare, “You don’t look like a lesbian,” or “You’re too pretty to be a lesbian lmao,” comments that Tara quickly deletes. Other classmates will even loudly comment in front of Tara and Darcy, “Lesbians are so disgusting,” and that they are “so gross.” While Darcy seems to be able to brush these slings to the side since she’s been out for awhile (in a similar way we’ll see Charlie do in episode seven, much to Nick’s worry and irritation), Tara is clearly visibly upset, and it all comes to a head towards the end of this episode right before the orchestra concert.

As they are setting up for the performance, Tara overhears someone in the orchestra meanly comment, “Don’t look at her. You’ll catch the lesbian disease.” Tara immediately storms off and Darcy follows where they accidentally get locked in the music instrument storage room due to a wonky door. While this is a distressing scene to watch, Tara so clearly hurt by how much people around her have changed since she came out, Darcy now provides Tara with a bright, shining beacon of hope in the same way Charlie did Nick in the park. Tara expresses, “Everything’s changed. I just wasn’t prepared for things to change. I didn’t think so many people would suddenly think I’m a completely different person. I wasn’t prepared for any of it. I don’t know how to behave anymore, and I just want to live my life. I still feel like I know nothing.” In this moment, the surprises and confusions of coming out clearly weigh very deeply on Tara, and it is so heartbreaking.

But Darcy is right there by her side, and humbly remarks, “I don’t know anything either. I don’t know anything about anything,” and then adds following Darcy’s desire to just want to live her life, “We can do that.” They share a lovely kiss together and then Darcy concludes, “I think it will get easier.” While this whole conversation takes place in a locked room that perhaps symbolizes the shackles that bullies impose on us queers, the room is tellingly still lit brightly in sunshiny hues, the same hues we consistently see Charlie and Nick lit in when they are in their form classroom, that room of hope and optimism, as opposed to the boys changing room, that room of secrets and conflicts and lies, that in episode three was lit severely, drawing out a pale blue version of the Truham school colors. This scene—so expertly played by Corinna Brown and Kizzy Edgell in another moment that highlights how thoughtfully this show was cast, highlighting the incredibly magnetic chemistry that these characters share on screen together—provides a bright, shining way forward even in the face of gross bullies.

While change can be surprising and confusing and hard, it can also be a slow process. But slow doesn’t necessarily mean bad. We witness just such a change within Elle, who early in the episode reveals to Tara and Darcy that she has a crush on Tao, and Tara and Darcy are so excited for her. But Elle is hesitant to reveal her feelings to Tao because he is her best friend and she also feels he doesn’t like her back, despite the visual cues the audience saw last episode, animations of hearts and stars flitting about both of them as they enjoyed the arcade together.

That said, Darcy can’t resist trying to set Tao and Elle up. Previously, she and Tara invited Nick and Charlie to a double date over milkshakes before the orchestra concert, and over a text message exchange between all four of them (using that characteristic use of splitscreen suggesting comic book panels), she suggests inviting Tao and Elle along, too, Nick excitedly texting, “So now it’s a triple date?” The next day when all six of them are enjoying the milkshakes, Darcy drops hints to both of them: “You make a cute little pair,” and, “You should be really good friends with the person you’re dating.” However, when Tao leaves the table with Nick and Charlie to get more milkshakes, Elle is visibly annoyed with Darcy for trying to set them up. Then a bit later when Nick and Charlie return while Tao waits for the last two milkshakes at the truck, Elle also finds out that Nick and Charlie were in on the setup as well. Yasmin Finney yet again provides us with another one of her masterful performances in underplayed emotional reactions, and it is just enough of a reaction to show what happens when certain journeys begin before someone is ready, providing us with a glimpse not only of what happens when things move too fast in a romantic relationship, but also perhaps when things move too fast in the coming-out process, recalling Tara’s sensitive advice to Nick: “Don’t feel like you have to come out to anyone before you’re ready.”

But sometimes knowing when you’re ready is very hard, as at this point in the series Tao is the only friend in the group who doesn’t know that Nick and Charlie are dating, and Charlie doesn’t yet appear ready to tell Tao. “I’m gonna tell him. I just need to find the right time,” he remarks. We’ll return to this strand of the plot more thoroughly in episodes seven and eight, but it is worthwhile to note this moment here as a symptom of Tao’s inner conflict to resist the changes in the friend group, as it continues to affect Charlie’s ability to be fully honest with his good friend.

Additionally, Nick’s conflict of keeping things a secret while also making great strides forwards and outwards towards openness and honesty also continues to converge upon Charlie, and we begin to see how much is being asked of him as these two inner conflicts of two people who are very dear to him begin to approach that breaking point that I’ve mentioned will happen in episode seven. Charlie addresses this before the orchestra concert starts as Nick is sharing Charlie’s stool at his drum kit: “We’ve been hanging out a lot and if people guessed we were together, if they started saying stuff about you, then I really don’t want you to have to deal with that.” But just seconds earlier, Nick unashamedly tells Charlie, “I like being with you,” when Charlie tells him that he’s really glad he came to the concert. It’s another sweet moment of many, and while Charlie’s comments foreshadow heart-wrenchingly sad moments in episodes seven and eight, we are yet again provided with those adept visual cues the tell us that things will be alright despite what the characters are saying on screen, Nick and Charlie’s conversation lit brightly in the blazingly orange and glittering golden hues of the sunshine, those optimistic colors of bright, shining light that assures us that despite all the conflict, there is a hopeful way forward.

And then, as Nick sits down to enjoy the orchestra concert, smiling brightly towards Charlie, three golden spotlights illuminate the orchestra, one each for Nick’s bright, shining beacons of hope and happiness who are playing in the orchestra: Darcy, Tara, and—of course—Charlie. What an episode this is! What role models these characters are! What an idealistic vision this show creates! What a world we can all work towards! What beacons of light and hope each of these characters are! Can such transcendent television celebrate hope, happiness, and love to even higher heights than we’ve already seen?

Yes, it can!

Final musings for episode 6:

1. I love the moment in the music room when Darcy tells Tara that she’ll throw cheese at the other classmates who are making disparaging comments about how lesbians are gross, and Darcy says, “It always pays to be prepared with anti-homophobia cheese.” That said, while I do love the way Darcy tries to lighten things up, in episode seven I’ll be returning to Darcy’s ability to let the bullies’ comments roll off her sleeve, as sometimes that’s not necessarily the best response.
2. It’s so cute when Tao and Elle arrive at milkshakes, Tao hilariously dancing towards her, Elle pretending to throw a dart, and Tao pretending to be pierced before they meet each other and hug.
3. I also love it when Elle reveals to the group that she met Tao only because he came along as a package deal when she made friends with Charlie, and then Tao responds in his characteristic theatrics, exclaiming in a Scottish accent, “Rude!”
4. It also was so cute when Charlie teases Nick for liking bubblegum flavored milkshakes. “That is a crime!” he exclaims. But then when Nick tries Charlie’s chocolate milkshake, Nick fears Charlie might be right. So Nick says, “We can share. We are on a date,” agreeing with Charlie that sharing drinks is the official rule of dating.
5. Back in episode four, I noted how that episode contains the first moment in the series where we see Tao, Elle, Isaac, Tara, Darcy, Charlie, and Nick all in a single shot together right before the rugby match. Episode six, then, finally allows everyone in that group sans Isaac to appear in conversation together over milkshakes. It makes sense that Isaac doesn’t appear in the milkshake scene, as I’m not sure how the writing for that would work, but episode six starts to make it even more clear that I’m not sure there’s enough screen time to go around to include Isaac as equally as the rest. And this makes me sad.
6. I also love it when Nick is holding Tara’s case as she assembles her clarinet, and Tara remarks, “Thanks, boy-I-kissed-one-time,” and Nick responds, “No problem, girl-I-kissed-one-time.”

“Do you ever feel like you’re only doing things because everyone else is? And you’re scared to change? Or do something that might confuse or surprise people? Your real personality has been buried inside you for a really long time.”

Back in episode two, Olivia Colman as Nick’s mom observed of Charlie to Nick: “Charlie seems like a lovely boy. He’s very different from your other friends. You seem much more yourself around him.” And then in episode three, Nick confides to Charlie about his usual group of friends: “I don’t know if I want to hang out with those guys anymore. I’d rather hang out with you anyway.” Then by episode four, we agonizingly see how much Nick’s usual group of friends bury the part of him that is himself, his real personality, and how he no longer seems to actually fit together with his friend group. Episode four is a really hard episode to watch, because so much of it focuses on the secret that Nick is asking Charlie to keep, how Nick agonizes over wanting to be with Charlie while living up to the expectations of his other friends, how much Charlie works to honor Nick’s request only to see that he’s messing it up anyway, and how much Tao notices how lousy it is that Nick is unable to be his real self around others and how that messes with Charlie’s feelings. Episode four was the first episode that dwelled on these challenges and conflicts in an almost pessimistic but meaningful way, concluding the episode on a dour note devoid of any visual cues that point towards a hopeful way forward.

However, in episode five, “Friend,” the first scene where we see Nick and Charlie reunited on screen together following the devastating rugby match from last episode, is in that room we’ve come to know so well: their form classroom that always seems to be lit in bright sunshiny hues, a particularly golden wall frequently featured in the background, a room of warmth and comfort. We see Nick’s real personality on full display whenever he’s in this room with Charlie, even from the first moment we met Nick in episode one. And while episode four spent some necessary time tormenting us with how much Nick’s real personality gets buried when he’s with his rugby friends, it is in episode five where we get to learn—without a doubt—that his real personality is allowed to shine with an unexpected group of friends, a group of outcasts, as Tao described themselves in episode one, and his real personality becomes a glimmeringly hopeful shine that assures us that things will get better. But change can still be hard, as we will see.

The episode opens with Isaac, Tao, Elle, and Charlie playing Monopoly at Charlie’s house, and it ends in the way all Monopoly games end, throwing the board up in the air and calling it a draw. Later on, Tao and Elle have a private moment together, and Tao is agonizing over how to tell Charlie that Nick is going on a date with Imogen, also commenting that he just doesn’t like Nick: “I’ve seen him with those nasty year 11s at the school gate. If they say anything mean to Charlie, I’m going to crush them!” I’ve previously commented on Tao’s desire to protect Charlie, and while his “crush them” comment is characteristically theatrical hyperbole from Tao that we’ve come to expect from him, we’ll actually see him really step up how much he sticks up for Charlie in front of the bullies in this episode and the next two. For example, later on in this episode as Charlie and Tao are leaving the school gate, Harry throws some bric-a-brac at both of them, and Tao, undeterred, advances on him, hilariously calling him colorful insults inspired by male anatomy, “dicknozzle” and “rich bellend.” 

While this desire to stand up to the bullies and protect Charlie is partly born out of Tao’s inner conflict to resist how the friend group has changed, this conflict (as with Nick’s inner conflict to keep his relationship with Charlie a secret) begins to affect Charlie’s ability to be more openly honest with Tao, an inability that will approach a breaking point next episode and then completely unravel in episode seven. Charlie also becomes worried that standing up to the bullies will force Nick to have to make a decision sooner than he’s comfortable: to fully join the group of outcasts and completely renounce the group of friends that he feels he no longer fits into. But Tao remains adamant that Nick can look after himself and is frustrated that Charlie can’t see that he’s just trying to protect him. The fact that both of these two main conflicts of the series begin to directly converge upon Charlie is a lot to place on him, especially when he is so inclined to think everything is his fault, apologizing for things that he has no control over. This will all come to a heartbreaking climax in episode seven and into episode eight where, as I’ve previously mentioned, the limits of friendship and love are brought to a nearly irreversible breaking point.

Soon we learn that it is Charlie’s birthday on Saturday, and Charlie asks Tao, Elle, and Isaac if it’s okay if he invites Nick, cautiously worrying that he didn’t want to make things awkward. Isaac, ever the romantic, positively remarks, “I assumed he was coming anyway!” while Elle says it wouldn’t be awkward, even though she shares a knowing, private glance to Tao, secretly acknowledging that Charlie is falling for someone who is going on a date with someone else. When we catch up with Nick and Charlie in form, Charlie sweetly taps Nick’s hand with his pinky (a moment that delicately echos the first time their hands touched in episode three), and asks Nick if he’d like to come to his birthday. Resoundingly, Nick exclaims, “Yes!” that he’ll come, Nick’s true personality shining through, unashamedly expressing joy with Charlie in a way Ben never would have. While episode four had me so worried that Nick may be unable to allow his real personality to resurface after how much the rugby lads bury it, in this tiny moment, Nick beaming as he looks forward to seeing Charlie at his birthday, rekindled my hope that things might turn out alright after all, especially since the scene takes place in the room we know signifies comfort, truth, and warmth, their form classroom, lit—as usual—in reassuring golden hues.

In fact, Nick is so excited to go to Charlie’s birthday that Harry has to remind him that he has a date with Imogen on that same day, and Nick yet again has a hard time telling Imogen the truth about how he feels about her after she reveals that her dog died the previous night. Nick talks through all this with his mum, and we are treated to another lovely scene between Kit Connor and Olivia Colman. As I mentioned in my response to episode two, it is such a delight when these two share the screen together, and this scene is no exception to that. I feel that this scene in particular also demonstrably shows what such a lovely mum Nick’s mum is, not that that was in any doubt before this moment. “You shouldn’t go out with someone because you feel sorry for them,” she sagely advises Nick. In many ways, Nick’s mum is exactly the same mentor character Nick has that Charlie has in Mr. Ajayi, and it’s so lovely that both Nick and Charlie have such amazing humans in their lives.

Most of the rest of the episode focuses on Charlie’s birthday party at a bowling alley. And while there are some moments of tension that happen during the party that I’ll talk about (tensions that actually help Nick to reassess not only what he’s asking of Charlie but also what he’s asking of himself to remain closeted), for the most part the whole celebration is just such an amazing, well, celebration of love and friendship, which is exactly what we need after episode four dwelled so much on how tortured Nick is about what he’s doing to Charlie, making him keep secrets, and what he’s doing to himself, staying closeted. And so, Charlie’s party allows us to witness Nick’s growing realization about who he is and how he begins to navigate towards truth and honesty, beginning to allow his real personality to shine even in the presence of his other friend group.

Before we get to the parts of the party that are the celebration, let’s talk about the tension first. We’re immediately reminded of Tao’s inner conflict of resisting the changing friend group when he begrudgingly—through gritted teeth—groans, “I’ll try,” after Charlie implores him to try to get to know Nick, adding more fuel to Charlie’s fears that he can’t be as honest with Tao anymore. There’s another moment where Tao rolls his eyes when Nick and Charlie almost hug after Nick bowls a strike, and Tao’s frustration boils over so much that he corners Charlie in the toilet, pleading that he “stop this thing” with Nick, revealing that Nick’s going on a date with Imogen, and that he doesn’t like seeing Nick “mess with him.” Charlie actually seems legitimately worried that Nick really is messing with him, but it’s important to remember that Nick is forced into difficult decisions that negatively affect not only him, but Tao and Charlie, too, because we live in a messed up world where people have no choice but to live in secrets and lies. But Charlie knows the real Nick better than anyone. “He’s my friend,” Charlie pitifully yet impassionedly presses, but Tao still counters that he will be so angry if Nick is even slightly mean to him. This is all such a horrible place that Charlie is forced into, and it’s heartbreaking to watch.

Unbeknownst to either of them as they have the conversation, Nick actually overhears all of this, and the look of worry on Nick’s face adds to all the heartbreak already being dished out. Later on, Nick and Tao will have their first private moment of the series together, and Tao remarks, “I don’t know if this thing with Charlie is a joke or not, but for some reason he really likes you, and you’re messing with him, and I will not tolerate it. So consider this your final warning.” It is a really harsh moment, but after watching the tortured looks on Nick’s face last episode when he was unable to comfort a broken Charlie on the rugby pitch, Tao’s comment helps Nick to understand not only the weight of the secret he’s asking Charlie to keep but also the frustration he is starting to cause himself by remaining closeted. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re a good friend,” Nick admits.

In episode eight, Mr. Ajayi will counsel Charlie: “When I was at school, I thought that hiding from it all was safer, easier. But sometimes the loneliness was just as bad. Don’t let anyone make you disappear.” Mr. Ajayi’s words will be just as helpful in episode eight to Charlie as they are now to Nick in episode five. And while Tao’s tough love isn’t really similar to Mr. Ajayi’s eloquently sage advice, both remarks help point to the only way forward for Nick: being true to one’s own self and coming out of the closet, as treacherous and scary and terrifying as that can be. And believe me, it is terrifying. But remaining untrue to oneself scarcely bears thinking about, and it is far lonelier and darker than the rooms that Ben forced Charlie to see him in.

And so, outwards it is, for Nick! As I promised back in my response to episode one, each episode of this series will shine a bright light on a touching moment that persistently champions a promise of a hopeful future where things will get better and things will be the way they ought to be. But first, Nick has to clear up things with Charlie about Imogen. While they are having a private moment in the arcade, Nick reveals that he heard everything that Tao and Charlie said in the toilet, and he promises to make it right with Imogen, telling her that he doesn’t like her in that way, uttering the “s-word” (sorry) twice. Charlie asks, “Isn’t that what you always tell me not to say?” recalling their first vulnerable moment together back in episode one, and Nick responds, “But I’ve actually done something bad.” Nick’s observation that it’s necessary to apologize when something is directly their fault is something that Charlie hasn’t quite learned yet, even when we reach episode eight. But I hope that one day Nick’s example will help Charlie feel less responsible for things out of his control.

And then, in a touching moment of many, Nick asks Charlie to open the present he brought him. He confesses that he didn’t have time to buy him anything, resorting to something handmade instead, but it is the sweetest gift a boy could ever want: a framed image of both of them with Nick’s dog, Nellie, all lying together in the snow, that impossible moment from episode two showing two boys having not only an incredibly happy time but a lovingly charming time, a moment where it was clear something special was happening between both of them. And as I wrote for episode two, this moment not only imprinted an indelibly happy memory within me but also within Nick who reveals, “That was just one of my favorite days ever,” and the look of happiness on Charlie’s face confirms that he feels the same. “I really like you,” Nick declares to Charlie. And, in another moment for the ages, Nick lets Charlie kiss him right in the arcade where others might see them. It is just such a bright, shining moment that so clearly reveals not only Nick’s bravery in the face of a messed up world, but his willingness to listen to Tao’s tough love that—for reasons out of his control—he was messing Charlie around. But no longer. This is the moment we know that Nick knows who he is, who he likes, and who he wants to be.

Charlie’s birthday party ends in a montage where everyone is having just such an incredible time. And we also get to see much clearer clues how much Tao and Elle really care for each other, whimsically animated hearts and stars flitting about Tao and Elle as they play a space alien game in the arcade. We’ll get to touch more on this in the remaining three episodes, but it’s an important moment to note between Tao and Elle all the same.

Sadly, Nick has one difficult task to perform, however: meeting Imogen to tell her that he doesn’t like her as a girlfriend, having canceled their date via text message at Charlie’s birthday. Nick and Imogen meet on a park bench where he reveals his feelings and that—as I’ve written about previously—his real self has been buried. He reveals that not only does he not feel he fits well with Imogen but also, tellingly, other people in their friend group. The first time I watched this, I had missed that he said he also felt he didn’t fit with his friend group and not just Imogen, as I was feeling so heartbroken for both Nick and Imogen in this moment. But here he is acknowledging out loud to someone in his friend group that he feels he no longer fits within that group. While this is all such a sad moment, it is a necessary one for Nick to take as he begins to take steps out of the closet. And both Kit Connor and Rhea Norwood play this scene so delicately and so sensitively that it is difficult to be distracted from their masterful performances.

All of this said, I do find myself feeling a need to offer a little bit a criticism about how these 14- and 15-year-olds behave, and it is that they seem to be behaving more like well-adjusted 30- and 40-year-olds rather than rash, undeveloped teenagers. I wouldn’t expect teenagers to take heartbreak so delicately and calmly as we see Imogen, nor be able to see Nick express his emotions so eloquently. In the same token, however, these characters provide teenagers and, indeed, people of all ages exemplary role models to follow, to look up to, and to admire. And I’d much rather watch teenagers behaving like adults than most any other television. So I suppose I’m praising with faint damnations, as it were, and maybe I don’t really have a problem with this after all.

And so it’s onwards and outwards for Nick, who made great strides this episode, as we see him finding solutions to his inner conflict, as challenging as that has been. As his mum remarked back in episode two, Nick really is more himself around a group of outcasts rather than his regular group of friends, and here we see his real self on full, unedited display. But we still have three episodes left, and some of the darkest moments are yet to come… but also some of the brightest…

Final musings for episode 5:

1. I mentioned in my final musings last time that William Gao really comes into his own as Tao during episode four, and in episode five Gao continues to expertly develop a kind of underplayed theatricality to Tao’s character, first when he dances for Elle in Charlie’s bedroom, his angular features drawn into sharp focus as he awkwardly dances. (Doesn’t one of his dances look like the “drunk giraffe” as performed by Matt Smith’s Dr. Who?) And then later on at the bowling alley he sarcastically comments about his lanky arms, “I’m a very muscular individual!” or when he’s destroying aliens during a video game at the arcade with Elle, he proudly remarks, “I was born to kill aliens!” These are just a few moments of many that made me fall in love with Tao’s energetic and unashamedly geeky personality. That said, I still don’t understand what twerking is and why it’s a thing.
2. I had commented in episode one about Nick’s use of the word ass in regards to, “I’ll kick his ass,” rather than, “I’ll kick his arse.” And then in this episode, while Tao is “twerking,” apparently, he exclaims in a generic American accent, “Work that ass!” So maybe ass is catching on in the UK in ways I wasn’t aware of. But if anyone can let me know for sure, that would be helpful. Thanks.
3. During Nick’s chat with his mum, his mum reassures Nick, “Don’t worry. The right girl [emphasis mine] will come along, just you wait.” We’ll return to that comment in my response to episode eight.
4. When Nick first sees Elle at the bowling alley, he remarks to Charlie, “I feel like I know her from somewhere.” While I’m almost inclined to complain about the writing being a bit sloppy here (Nick literally just saw her at the rugby match last episode!) I think Nick’s forgetful memory has more to do with how anxious he was about the match as well as his anxieties about Charlie’s friends seeing them both together on the pitch, possibly observing that they seem closer than just best friends, outing him sooner than he would like. Darcy did comment that they both seemed suspiciously couple-y, after all.
5. Charlie and Nick both refer to the toilet at the bowling alley as a bathroom. This, I’m pretty sure, is absolutely a moment of the Brits dumbing things down for Americans, as they most certainly would have called it a toilet or loo or some other word… but never bathroom. Which is so weird because we hear Nick call it a loo in episode three at Harry’s party!
6. Nick also confesses to Charlie how sorry he feels for Imogen, about her dog dying and about how he doesn’t like her as a girlfriend. Kit Connor plays this moment with such sensitivity that it becomes just such a touching moment pointing to those hearts of gold I promised we’d see back in episode one.
7. Lastly, also back in episode one, I commented how each main character, with one notable exception, will receive their appropriate amount of screen time and development. And it is this episode where I feel it comes clear how much Isaac initially felt like a main character but now seems relegated to a secondary character. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, and I know there can only be so much screen time to go around, but I would like to get to know Isaac better than we do.

“I’m so sorry. I’m just so sorry I ran away last night. I was just freaking out because I was confused and surprised, and I’m having a proper full-on gay crisis. And it’s not that didn’t want to kiss you, I was just so confused. I’m just been so, so confused.”

By the end of episode three, we have a very clear idea of who the main characters of Heartstopper are and what makes them tick. We are also able to identify the two main conflicts that now drive the plot, and both conflicts are driven by a reaction to change: Nick’s inner conflict with trying to figure out his sexuality and allowing his real personality buried deep inside him to surface; and Tao’s inner conflict with how the friend group isn’t what it used to be. These two conflicts bleed into and inform the other strife that starts to appear with the rest of the characters, and we will see these conflicts begin to unravel and test the limits of love and friendship until it seems to reach an irreconcilable breaking point, ultimately both conflicts converging directly upon Charlie in episode seven, when this show’s persistent promise of a hopeful future where things will get better is cast in serious doubt. But, as usual, there are clever visual cues peppered throughout that help the audience to still believe that hope, happiness, friendship, and love will prevail… but sometimes even that is not enough.

We begin episode four, “Secret,” exactly where the previous episode ended, Nick outside and soaked in the steadily falling rain, framed in Charlie’s front door, both having just shared a few kisses the night before at Harry’s party, and who both seem distressed that something might’ve changed between them, for the worst and not the best. Nick tells Charlie that he wanted to talk in person rather than in text, and the desperation on his face is unmistakably weighing him down.

When they go upstairs to Charlie’s bedroom to talk, it’s Charlie who suddenly apologizes, uttering three times that “s-word,” as Nick will dub it in episode seven and which he already remarked that Charlie says too much. “I at least had to say sorry,” Charlie sorrowfully laments, placing the blame on the kiss that might’ve ruined their friendship squarely on himself. Nick earnestly implores Charlie to stop by speaking his name three times and then passionately kisses him. Then it is Nick who utters the s-word, albeit only twice, for running away the previous night. He also expresses how confused he’s been feeling, remarking that he’s having a “proper, full-on gay crisis,” but that he did want to kiss Charlie. The fear in Nick’s face is so authentic and so believable, expertly reflecting that real-world fear that we queers feel when we realize who we are.

Coming out, at least for me, was one of the most terrifying things I ever had to do. But even more terrifying was the moment several years before I came out when I made the realization that the feelings I was feeling were gay feelings, and that moment is firmly etched into my mind’s eye. Charlie, in episode six, will take the words right out of my mouth, describing my experience exactly as it was with him: “I’ve always been sort of aware of it even when I was really young. I didn’t understand it at the time, but it’s always been boys.” While it’s true that I, like Charlie, was always aware of my sexuality, it wasn’t until I was able to conceptualize a label around what I was feeling when an intense fear began to fester. And that’s when suddenly my whole world irrevocably changed before me.

So, too, in this moment with Nick, are we seeing that exact same, terrifying realization play out so realistically as Nick’s world permanently changes around him. While we did see Nick shed a tear in episode two when he received a “62% homesexual” rating from that silly online Ultimate Gay Quiz, it is in this moment that the fear about who he really is is on full display. And all his fear and anxiety is such a remarkable reflection of reality, and I empathize so deeply with both Nick and Charlie as they tenderly hug each other following Nick revealing his crisis. Joe Locke and Kit Connor are also such authentic actors, so talented and so thoughtful in their performances, that it’s hard to become distracted whenever they are on screen, especially when both of them share such a vulnerable moment like this together.

Before Nick leaves, he asks if he and Charlie could keep all this a secret. Nick still has a look of worry on his face when he asks this of Charlie, and Charlie also looks momentarily and ever so slightly distressed, both Nick and Charlie aware that they may be entering into another secret agreement like the one Charlie had with Ben, an agreement that caused Charlie much pain. This is Nick’s inner conflict now permeating outwards to affect Charlie’s happiness. Tellingly, however, Nick is wearing blue (the color of the boys changing room at school where we’ve come to associate conflict and lies) and Charlie is wearing a golden orange shirt (the color of their form classroom where we first met warm and comforting Nick, lit by the sunlight), so we can rest assured by these colors that while Nick is currently representing the conflict of the situation, Charlie is representing the reassuring warmth and comfort in the same way Nick did when we met him in episode one. More hopefully, however, is that when Nick leaves through the rain, he has an umbrella that is half gold and half blue, but it is the gold half of the umbrella that faces forward with the blue half following behind, suggesting that the future will still be bright and shining, despite Nick requesting this all be a secret.

But more tellingly still, after Nick walks down the street a bit, Charlie chases after him in the rain to kiss him one last time. And when the two actually do part, the camera hovers on Nick, the gold part of the umbrella more prominent in the shot, a sun beam streaks past the screen creating a prismatic rainbow that appears to be emanating from Nick’s smiling face. These visual cues in addition to the simple fact that Nick was already able to kiss Charlie on the street where others might see them, clearly point to that bright future the show keeps championing where things will get better and things will be the way they ought to be. Nick may need to keep things a secret for now, only because all of this is so brand new and different, but the striking visuals provide just enough symbols for us to know that the future will see brighter days.

The next morning at school, things continue to feel brighter, the hopelessly optimistic music of series composer Adiescar Chase underscoring the changes that have been happening, “good changes,” as Elle might describe them as we saw in episode three. Even Imogen, Nick’s friend, notices that something is different about him. And then when we see Charlie walk down the hall to form, a giant smile beaming across his face, he retraces the path down the corridor that he took during the moment when we first met him in episode one. Except this time, instead of meeting shadowy, secretive Ben in the dark library, we see Charlie meeting Nick in the bright, sunny form classroom. And it’s so sweet when they exchange their greetings of hi, similarly to when they first met in episode one, but now in episode four, that simple word, hi, has taken on a deeper meaning, representing so much positive change as both of them have gotten to know each other. It is just so heartwarming to watch.

When the noon hour comes, we see Nick and Charlie share lunch in the bright, open art room rather than a dark, shadowy library as we might have seen with Ben. Nick and Charlie talk about and acknowledge parallels between their secret and the one Ben made Charlie keep, and this clearly makes Nick uncomfortable, almost taking his hand out of Charlie’s before Charlie clasps both of his hands around Nick’s, assuring Nick that he is totally different from Ben. While the audience has been given visual cues that Nick is a symbol of generosity and warmth, the character only has Charlie’s word that he is totally different from Ben. But as we’ll see over the next few episodes, the secret that Nick is asking Charlie to keep weighs more and more heavily as both of them become closer and closer.

And it’s not without reason that Nick wants to keep this a secret, as Tara and Darcy’s story reveals more fully the strife that oftentimes accompanies queers when we come out of the closet, and their story helps us to empathize with Nick’s desire to stay closeted. By this point, the school is starting to learn that Tara and Darcy are lesbians since they kissed so openly at Harry’s party, and Tara herself is starting to feel more comfortable with kissing Darcy at school. During their lunchtime with Elle, the whole school is abuzz with gossip. Tara is clearly very distressed about all the commotion, and Elle remarks, “It’ll die down soon, won’t it?” This story will continue to address the challenges of coming out in a really meaningful and sensitive way, and while it is disheartening to see Tara so visibly upset, it is a necessary story to tell in order for the audience to understand what can oftentimes be a painful process and to allow us to recognize Nick’s motivation to stay closeted.

This episode also allows more of Tao’s inner conflict to unravel a bit, and his fears and anxieties become highly predictive as we’ll see in episode seven. Tao explicitly names his conflict to Elle while they are watching Charlie’s rugby match between Truham Boys School and St. John’s Sports Academy. There’s a moment where Tao sees Harry talking with Charlie on the pitch, and Tao is worried that Harry’s picking on him (he is, of course, bitingly teasing Charlie that one of the opposing rugby players has a crush on him). Elle suggests they could just be friends, but Tao is undeterred, adamantly countering, “Charlie’s befriending bullies, and our friendship group is falling apart.” Additionally, earlier in the episode, we had also seen Tao air more of his frustrations to Isaac when they were having lunch outside together without Charlie, Tao remarking disparagingly that he’s probably having lunch with Nick again, and adding, “It’s a bad idea to even walk near [the rugby players] let alone actually befriend one of them. Charlie’s putting himself in danger just because he has a little unrequited crush.”

At this point in the series, Tao’s remarks seem a little dramatic, partly because we have seen how sweet Nick can be towards Charlie, but—at the same time—we have seen how nasty the rugby boys can be, as in episode one, and more specifically, how nasty Harry can be, as in episode three and this one. So the fact that Tao is so worried that Charlie is actually in danger is not only an incredibly touching admission of how deep Tao’s love for Charlie is, but it also becomes a remarkably prescient moment, once we reach episode seven.

Sadly, this tension between Tao and the rugby boys (Nick in particular) also builds in a much more tangible way. As the rugby boys are walking by Tao and Isaac during lunch, Harry rudely throws the ball at Tao and it strikes him in the face. When Nick comes by to see if he’s all right, Tao refuses to give the ball back, instead waiting to throw it at Nick’s back as he walks away. It’s so heartbreaking to watch this tension unravel, and this is where that tension begins to really stretch the limits of love and friendship. At the same time, it is also so admirable to witness Tao’s desire to protect Charlie with such great zeal, Tao becoming one of those bright glittering stars outshining worlds of terror, stamping out bullies, even though it is manifested in an intense dislike towards not just all the rugby boys, but Nick in particular.

The episode then circles back to Nick’s conflict and his desire to keep everything between him and Charlie a secret, and the rugby match that Truham plays against St. John’s literally does become dangerous, all the rugby boys a symbol for the danger that Tao is worried Charlie is already enmeshed in. At the end of the match, Charlie tries to tackle one of the St. John’s boys, fails, and is cast violently to the ground with a bloody nose, symbolizing the verbal slings that Harry had previously sent flying to puncture Charlie’s humanity. As Charlie lies broken on the muddy pitch, Nick calls out his name but is unable to do what we all know he really wants to do: go to him, take him in his arms, hug him, and make sure he’s alright. Nick then flashes back to the moment when he asked Charlie to keep all of this a secret, animations of rain falling over Charlie’s dejected face, Charlie the one uttering, “Keep this a secret.”

This is just all so, so sad! While it was horrible watching Harry’s homophobia on full, unedited display in episode three, it is just so, so heartbreakingly sad watching not only Tao’s worry for Charlie’s safety escalate, but also so, so sad seeing Charlie’s crumpled body in the soggy grass, Nick unable to comfort him, the realization dawning on him the weight of the secret that Nick is asking Charlie to keep and the danger Charlie is in by associating with the rugby lads. It is horrible, but it is a symptom of the not-quite perfect world we live in, and it remains so important for Heartstopper to show moments like this, shining a hazy, dingy light on the dark underside of a messed up world of terror yet unconquered by brilliant, shining stars.

While we do get a special moment following the match when Nick visits Charlie in the nurse’s office as he tends to his nose, it is frustratingly truncated. Charlie expresses how he’s sorry for being so clingy and messing up the secret (Darcy earlier had remarked that he and Nick seemed “suspiciously couple-y”), but then Nick begins to express his apologies, staring Charlie deep into his eyes, but is interrupted when Isaac brings some antiseptics. Isaac clearly knows that something deeper is happening between the two the way he awkwardly excuses himself from the room. Even though Charlie assures Nick that Isaac won’t say anything, the subtle look on Nick’s face is one of profound frustration and sadness, as it is clear that he doesn’t know how to navigate being romantically involved with Charlie while also remaining in the closet.

And then, as if the episode couldn’t dish out more frustration and conflict, Imogen corners Nick after he checks in with Charlie, and she asks him out on a date in front of all the other rugby boys. Tao and Elle also witness this, and while it’s clear that Nick desperately wants to turn her down, he can’t in that moment figure out a way to say no. So he accepts her offer, much to the confusion of not just Tao and Elle but Nick himself. It’s telling that in this moment, Nick is also surrounded by the seats of the empty pitch, all colored blue, that color of conflict and lies.

And while this show is so good at presenting us with visual cues (a stray sunbeam or a prismatic rainbow) that hint that the future will be bright despite what anyone on screen is saying, this is a key moment where those hopeful clues aren’t present. And for the first time, an episode of Heartstopper concludes on a note of deeply troubling uncertainty, presenting a world where sometimes bullies win, stamping out the bright, shining stars of our heroes, suspending the ongoing, difficult work towards a better future, where the days of tomorrow may be darker than the days of today.

Final musings for episode 4:

1. When Nick and Charlie are at lunch, Nick is worried about how Charlie’s friends will feel that he’s dumping them for Nick to have lunch. But Charlie coldly responds, “They can deal with it.” This is a somewhat troubling and uncharacteristic moment to witness of Charlie who previously had always been shown to be so grateful for his friends, but it is a fault that Charlie will acknowledge with Tao in episode eight, a moment that allows us to see how these characters are able to change their habits for the better.
2. We had previously seen in earlier episodes how much Tao cares for Elle, but when we see their text exchanges this episode, both expressing how much they both miss each other, it’s so clear by this point that Tao and Elle might now actually be more than just friends. This story will pick up more momentum in episodes five and six.
3. I really started to fall in love with Coach Singh (Chetna Pandya) this episode, who stands up for Charlie at every turn. “Lots of gay people are good at sports, Charlie!” she says when Charlie is worried that the whole team is labeling him the stereotypical gay boy who can’t do sports.
4. This is the first episode where we at last get to see all the core cast on screen in a single shot when Tao, Elle, Isaac, Darcy, and Tara show up to watch the rugby match. We’ll get treated to another more special moment with most of them in episode six. 
5. When everyone is watching the rugby match, I just love Tao asking, “Does anyone remember the rules of rugby, because I don’t,” and everyone responds deadpan, “No.”
6. Also during the rugby match, I love how Elle comments that Tao’s nightmare scenario is when Tao worries, “Next thing you know, Charlie will be bringing the whole rugby team to our film night and making us watch Avengers or something.”
7. Lastly, I feel that this episode is where William Gao as Tao really comes into his own as he plays the part. Gao develops an enduring theatricality in his performance, a theatricality that breaks the surface ever so slightly a few times during this episode. Towards the end of the episode, for example, Tao thinks Elle’s new friends, Tara and Darcy, are cool, and he worries that they might be replacing him, and Elle responds, “As if anyone could replace your incredibly annoying, loud presence in my life,” and Tao teases with a grumbly but playful, “How dare you!” They both share a laugh, and it is just such a sweet moment during an episode filled with more conflict we have yet seen this entire series so far.

“Would you go out with someone who wasn’t a girl? Would you kiss someone who wasn’t a girl? Would you kiss me?”

If episode one was about getting to know the broad character traits of our main cast and episode two was about getting to know the finer details of each characters’ key motivations, then episode three, “Kiss,” brings into clear focus the two main conflicts of this series. By this point, we’ve been able to become familiar with how this show works: how light and color provide a visual cue for a character’s true personality or actual mood despite what they express aloud; how text message conversations capture a character’s inner frustrations and raw thoughts in a way that standard, verbal dialogue cannot; how subtle facial reactions are seen by no one else but the audience; and how vibrant animations beautifully enhance a tender moment, or—in some cases—a scary one. The makers of Heartstopper continue to embrace these narrative tools in episode three as the two main conflicts come into clear focus, creating a world that is presented with a masterful consistency and a truthful believability allowing the audience an emotional investment in a charismatic group of outcasts trying to figure themselves out in a messed up world.

The first conflict that comes into sharp focus right away in the first scene is Nick’s terrifying revelation that he might be gay, what that means for who he is, and how he navigates a way forwards and outwards. We see him sitting alone in his bedroom looking through the search results to his Google inquiry, “Am I gay?” His face is lit up white by the glow of the computer screen, his face now a similar shade of white as in episode two when he was imagining how hard it must be for Charlie to be out of the closet as he conjured dark images of Charlie being bullied in the school corridor. As Nick continues clicking through the search results—some campy (“The Ultimate Gay Quiz”) and some troublingly serious (“Opposition to Marriage Equality” and “Conversion Therapy”)—his sad, pale face is drained of all color because of the revelation he’s made about himself, and a single tear roles down his cheek.

Nick slams his computer shut and we immediately cut to the next morning, the camera framing Nick sitting on the usual table by the school gate, his face still absent of color, and the pale, grey/white English sky behind him augmenting the terrifying fear present in his face. I’ve remarked a few times how expertly this show is a reflection of reality, and this scene is no exception. This lonely fear is all too real of queers, especially as we grow up, and it’s so important and so meaningful that this show addresses that loneliness with such a delicate sensitivity to the very real reality the effects this loneliness has on us all.

I also feel so exhausted with Nick as he’s with his friends, his thoughts still consumed by his sexuality, and he has to carry on regardless as his friend and fellow rugby teammate, Harry (Cormac Hyde-Corrin), invites him to his 16th birthday party, accepting the invitation through a forced smile. Later on, as the boys are changing for rugby practice, Nick has to listen to his teammates talk about how Nick has his pick of two girls, Imogen and Tara, who will both be at Harry’s party. While Nick does manage to express some frustration towards this talk, when Harry tells him that Saturday night will be his chance, Nick responds, “Yeah, maybe,” as he doesn’t know how to respond any other way, unable to fully express aloud why he isn’t interested in these two girls, while his real desire, Charlie, is sitting next him as they get ready, the two of them catching each other’s eyes to share an uncomfortable moment of uncertainty. In episode five, Nick will talk about how his real personality has been buried deep inside him because he doesn’t want to confuse and surprise others, and these moments in episode three are the first concrete glimpses of how his desire to let his true self shine conflicts sharply with what others expect of him. And it is heartbreaking.

Tellingly, as we watch Nick’s inner conflict in this scene begin to bubble ever so slightly to the surface, the color of the rugby changing room seems to provide us more visual cues. It is a room with brick walls that appeared white in episode one but now in episode three seem to be lit in cold, pale, blue hues, as if reflecting a lonelier version of the blue in Truham’s school colors. But when we cut to the next scene, it’s in Nick and Charlie’s form classroom, a room that has become a symbol of tenderness and warmth, as it was the first time we got to see Nick and Charlie say hi to each other, the warm sun lighting their faces. It is immediately a room of comfort as soon as we cut away from the rugby changing room, and it is made all the warmer when Charlie sits down next to Nick. Charlie is surprised when Nick invites him to Harry’s party, “Please come! I want you to be there!” Nick enthusiastically presses him, and Charlie reluctantly agrees but then quickly seems to feel so excited to be going out to a party with Nick.

And this is where the second main conflict of the series begins to come into sharp focus, and it is the first time in the series that we see one of the main cast cause one of their friends to look visibly and dramatically hurt and angry. Since Charlie accepted Nick’s invitation while forgetting that he had already made plans with Tao, Elle, and Isaac for a movie night, Tao is deeply hurt. The scene’s dialogue is accomplished through the show’s characteristic use of text message conversations and split screen, Charlie, Tao, and Elle all appearing on screen in their separate bedrooms in comic book panels. Charlie’s bedroom is lit up in golden hues, recalling the warm colors of his form classroom, reminding us of how happy he is that Nick invited him to the party. Contrastingly, Tao’s room is lit in primarily shades of blues and greys, recalling the cold room associated with conflicts and lies, the rugby changing room. Meanwhile, Elle’s room seems to act as a mediator between Charlie’s happiness and Tao’s anger; it’s primarily colored deep red but simultaneously has hints of blue reflecting in tiny mirrors and suggestions of gold glistening in fairy lights. It’s Elle who seems excited for Charlie to go to a “popular people party” and who suggests that they can still have movie night without Charlie and the four of them can do something else another time, but Tao is still clearly really upset. And just as it was upsetting to watch Nick making a startling discovery about his sexuality, so too is it upsetting watching Tao become so angry with Charlie.

We had previously seen hints of Tao’s anxiety about what’s started to happen to their friend group. In the first episode, for example, he talks sadly of how Elle had to go to a different school and their group of friends is now no longer a group but a trio. In episode two when Tao is talking with Charlie at rugby practice, Tao has a look of dread on his face when he responds, “Oh…” to Charlie’s delight at how Nick might like him back. But now we see that anxiety on full, unedited display as Charlie chooses to be with Nick rather than him, and Charlie has no idea the full extent of Tao’s frustration since only the audience gets to see Tao’s facial reactions during the text message exchange.

In the end, movie night ends up being only Tao and Elle, as Issac texts he also no longer can come since he’s “super sick.” While Tao also seems annoyed that Isaac isn’t coming either, this gives us a chance to witness some honest moments between Tao and Elle. Tao tends to hold steadfast that Charlie is changing, that he’s choosing Nick over them, and that he misses how things used to be. But the dialogue is so eloquently written to have Elle comment on how sometimes change is a good thing. It’s especially meaningful that Elle, a young transgendered woman, should comment on how change is necessary and important, noting how her switch to Higgs Girls School—the school itself a symbol for her transition from male to female—was a good thing. She also talks about how she was so scared no one would like her at Higgs, but that she needed to put herself out there or she’d just be alone. This mirrors what Nick is going through as he begins to take the initial steps of putting himself out there to be with someone he cares about.

All of Elle’s observations seem to help Tao understand Charlie’s recent changes, and it is so special to see the understanding gradually appear in Tao’s face, as he and Elle hold each other by their hands, lying in his bed, foreshadowing events in episodes five and eight. This is all just such a touching series of scenes, Tao and Elle at one point promising each other to put their friendship first. And Yasmin Finney’s performance as Elle is particularly transfixing—if I may use a word with the prefix trans—capturing such a tender moment with such elegant grace and such alluring warmth. It’s really quite special.

Meanwhile, Nick and Charlie’s story plays out at an impossibly glitzy 16th birthday party for rich boy Harry, his parents having rented out the entire St. George’s Hotel. Charlie anxiously walks into the hotel—music blaring, colorful lights flashing—while Nick is hanging out with Harry and saying hello to Imogen, whose crush on Nick is growing by the minute. (Later we’ll see the two in another scene where Imogen officially declares her fondness for Nick.) But it’s clear Nick wants to see no one else but Charlie, as he eagerly scans the large ballroom for him. Their eyes eventually do meet and they converge upon each other. “I’ve been looking for you!” they both enthusiastically exclaim. It’s a sweet, tender moment, and the first of many we’ll see between the two of them this episode.

Later we see Charlie and Nick sitting on a couch talking about Mario Kart, but Harry interrupts them because he wants to try to set Nick up with Tara. It’s so heartbreaking watching Harry tear Nick away from Charlie, but Nick and Tara are able to clear up once and for all that they aren’t interested in each other, Nick revealing that he doesn’t feel that way about her and Tara revealing to Nick that she’s a lesbian. The way Nick responds matter-of-factly about Tara’s sexuality continues to reinforce Nick’s warm personality, and it is a moment that highlights the generally hopeful message of this show. This moment also helps to peel back another layer of Tara’s story as she becomes more and more comfortable coming out of the closet, a story that will come to a tear-jerking yet encouraging climax in episode six.

During this scene, we also get to see Nick revealing to Tara that Charlie is his best friend, as if that wasn’t obvious after all the show has shown us in only two-and-a-half episodes, but which provides a glimpse into how Nick is becoming more and more comfortable with letting his real personality buried deep inside him to emerge. Shortly after Tara and Darcy go off to dance, he’s cornered by Harry and the other rugby players who wonder why he wants to find Charlie (who has disappeared from the couch earlier), making fun of the fact that maybe Charlie has a crush on Nick and how sad that is. More of Nick’s real personality comes to the fore, inch by inch, willed by an indestructible force, as he calls out Harry’s homophobic comments. What a brave moment for Nick, indeed! I can’t imagine the energy it must have taken Nick in that moment to stand up not just for Charlie but for queers everywhere. This is another example of the show revealing a world as it ought to be: a star rugby player championing the lonely, powerless outcasts. It’s a brief exchange of a couple of lines but it’s a scene for the ages!

And then we cut to Charlie, who gets cornered by Ben who frustratingly asks Charlie if he’s finished sulking about everything that’s happened between them. But, as if willed by Nick’s example, Charlie pushes Ben into a wall. “Leave me alone! Do not touch me!” he assertively declares, leaving Ben all alone and to continue to be the one who’s actually doing the sulking. It was a giant moment for Charlie who previously in episode one had described himself as small and weak, but in this moment he—like Nick just earlier—was the brightest star outshining an intimidating world of terror.

And that light permeates the episode as we return to the ballroom where Nick is anxiously looking around for Charlie, the music of Chvrches blasting the whole hotel, a song called “Clearest Blue,” an optimistic celebration of positivity, the first lyrics, “Light is all over us.” And while we don’t get to hear those specific lyrics in this episode since we join the tune midway through, it’s still abundantly clear that the light of heroes is, indeed, all around us, standing up to adversarial foes, whether in Nick’s hidden personality coming to the fore as he castigates Harry for his homophobia or Charlie’s newfound strength revealing itself as he berates Ben for his duplicitous manipulations.

Or in Tara and Darcy’s decision to slowly reveal their relationship to the world, as they dance energetically and lovingly on the dance floor, the music of Chvrches growing in intensity, colorful lights strobing the room ablaze in a palette of rainbows, gleaming confetti delicately sparkling through the air, until at the climactic midpoint of “Clearest Blue” (at precisely 2:32 in this video, to be exact), Tara and Darcy kiss, for all the world to see, in an unashamed display of love between two women, all the while Nick looks on in amazed wonderment, the lights pulsing and lighting him up in the colors of the bisexual pride flag, admiring the moment in a hopeful bliss and an awed euphoria.

This show had already transfixed me right from those opening moments in episode one when we first met Charlie, but it was this scene in episode three that thoroughly, utterly, and transcendently transfigured my hope and optimism for a possible world that ought to be. A world of enduring heroes, of brightest stars, of unending love unshackled by any demon, bully, or villain. I had never seen a show quite like this until now, and what a gift it is that such television could exist to evoke such a reaction! And I again find myself feeling more happiness than I can ever fit in my heart that it bursts into a jubilee of intense tears of joy!

This joy springs Nick to eventually find Charlie sitting down back on the couch from earlier, both gleaming with happiness as they rejoin the company of the other. Nick reveals that he doesn’t want to hang out with his rugby friends anymore, Charlie labeling them intimidating, Nick declaring, “I’d rather hang out with you anyway,” and then commenting while holding Charlie’s hand about how proud he is that he dealt with Ben. They both decide to go to a quieter place, Nick taking Charlie by his hand through the crowd until they race their way upstairs to an empty room. It’s a playfully happy moment that just makes me smile.

In this room we get to witness a really tender moment between Nick and Charlie, and it unfolds at just the right pace and with the characteristic elegance we’ve become acquainted with. The energy between the two characters is practically physically visible as they sit on the floor, backs against the wall, sparks of electricity flying between them as Nick oh-so-gradually reveals his feelings to Charlie. Charlie eventually places his hand on the floor next to Nick, and their pinkies touch at first, animations of sparks igniting between them, the whimsical music of Adiescar Chase kindling the moment to an impossibility. Eventually Charlie and Nick kiss in a sweet moment of delicate affection, cautiously at first, but then all together wholeheartedly seconds later.

Sadly, the moment is interrupted as we hear Harry calling out to Nick, and Nick seems to run away from Charlie in a fit of fear and anxiety that he made a terrible mistake. Nick is cornered by Harry and the rugby lads and the room they are in is tellingly lit in the hues of blue we’ve come to associate with the changing room, which is itself the symbol for conflicts and lies. In this moment, we see that sometimes bullies do stamp out the light, as Nick is forced to confess that earlier he was just in a mood and that Harry’s remarks about Charlie were just banter. While it’s deeply frustrating to see the tender moment between Nick and Charlie get interrupted like this, only to end with Nick conceding something that isn’t true (a moment of his real personality being re-buried), it is necessary for the show to display this reality, that sometimes bullies do win. And it’s horrible.

Nick tries to go back to Charlie, but Charlie has already left the party, perhaps feeling that he also made a mistake by kissing Nick. And by the next morning, it’s raining, and for the first time, it feels like an episode might end on a really sad note.

But it doesn’t. There’s a knock at Charlie’s door, and Charlie opens the door to find Nick soaked in the rain. “Hi,” Nick says. “Hi,” Charlie responds, an echo of how they first greeted each other in episode one. But this echo is colored by a melancholy of uncertainty rather than a sun of warmth.

The color palette within how Nick is shown, however, provides a clue that there is a glimmer of hope. We look out of Charlie’s front door to see Nick framed in the doorway, a golden brick home in the background, the warm colors of the house recalling the vibrant sun that lit Nick up when we first met him in episode one, suggesting that in this moment Nick’s real personality of tenderness and warmth is still glowing bright, despite the bullies stamping it out the previous night. It’s clear that a brightest star still awaits all of us in the next episode.

Final musings for episode 3:

1. Imogen’s story continues to develop in this episode, as we see her infatuation with Nick grow to somewhat obsessive levels. It’s so difficult to play a bubbly young woman who is obsessed with someone who doesn’t like her back without it becoming an annoying caricature, but Rhea Norwood delivers a stunning performance that somehow manages to make me like Imogen—despite her bubbly, obsessive personality—while also feeling such sadness for her as her love for Nick remains unrequited.
2. We get to meet Tao’s mom, Yan, played by Momo Yeung, and she is an absolute delight. When she welcomes Elle into their house for movie night with Tao, she gushes, “How are you doing, my love? New school okay? In you come! I’ll put the kettle on!” It’s just such a genuinely friendly moment and it makes me feel so happy to see such love shared so openly. Tao even jokes, “I swear to god, she loves you more than me.”
3. We also get to meet Charlie’s dad, Julio, played by Joseph Balderrama, who is so protective of Charlie as he drives him to Harry’s party, advising him to call him if he needs anything. Towards the end of the episode when his dad picks him up, Charlie is visibly upset about what just happened between him and Nick, and Charlie just breaks down crying. His dad hugs him lovingly in the car, “It’s okay, I’ve got you, everything’s going to be okay,” he supportively consoles. It’s a tender moment between father and son that I can’t overstate.

“You’re just good at everything. You’re a proper little nerd. You’re good at video games, literally all school subjects but especially maths, playing the drums, befriending dogs, and you are good at sports! You run so fast!”

As we move into the second episode of Heartstopper, “Crush,” the show is now able to take time to unpeel the layers of these incredible characters a little bit. Where the first episode necessarily focused heavily on painting broad brush strokes to capture each character’s prime traits through the creative use of framing characters in shots orchestrated with specifically chosen lights and colors, the second episode focuses on tinier, more intimate details of each character’s motivations through elegant, subtle, and carefully timed reactions, capturing the tiniest furrowed brow or the faintest hint of a smile, often unseen by anyone around them except the audience, which provides just enough of a knowing glance towards what someone is really thinking, despite what they’re actually saying, allowing the audience to be one step ahead of all the other characters. And the cast and their director, Euros Lyn, are all so talented in their abilities to conjure these exquisite moments seemingly effortlessly, creating characters we really believe could be entirely accurate reflections of reality.

The episode opens in Charlie’s bedroom with him practicing on his drum kit, a calm, steady, rhythmic pattern at first, as Nick is in his bedroom scrolling on his phone, looking at Charlie’s Instagram photos. He smiles ever so subtly at an image with Charlie and a cat. But then Charlie’s next photo reveals the dark school corridor leading to the rugby changing room with the subtitle, “hate this place,” and immediately Nick’s face turns white as he looks up from his phone, a look of worry in his eyes, a tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows, as he imagines Charlie being teased in that corridor, the screen turning dark, animations of anonymous boys crowding around him as Nick hears them taunt, “He’s so gross,” “What a weirdo,” “He’s such a loser,” and “I’d rather be dead than gay.” As the images and the dialogue intensify, so too does Charlie’s drum pattern, louder and louder, Nick imagining Charlie in that dark corridor on the verge of tears, Nick calling out to him.

It’s clear that Nick is thinking not only of how hard it must be for someone to be out of the closet but to also have to deal with an abusive boyfriend. He struggles to find the right text to respond to Charlie’s message from last episode, “Thank you x,” typing but not sending, “It’s okay!!” But the expression on Nick’s face is of frustration, as he knows that’s not what is the right thing to say, but he didn’t know it until he typed it. So he tries, “That seems like a kinda serious situation,” and then, “Please don’t talk to Ben anymore lol,” before finally settling on, “Are you feeling okay?” sending the message with a nervous, heavy sigh. We hear Charlie’s phone ding, he immediately stops playing the drums that have now reached their final, intense crescendo, and grabs his phone which was clearly placed in plain sight by his feet as if he was waiting for Nick’s response, the ever growing drum pattern simultaneously representing Charlie’s frustration as he waits for Nick’s response as well as Nick’s growing concern for Charlie’s safety and how to respond to his message.

As I mentioned in my reaction to the first episode, this is all another example that again demonstrates how adept this show is at presenting a lot of information in a short period of time, a seemingly simple series of images and reactions enhanced by some diegetic music, all immediately intelligible to the audience despite how much we see in a short space of time. Within a minute and half of this episode, we learn that Nick really is a warm and caring individual, something that was suggested when we first saw the camera focus in on him in episode one, sitting at his desk, lit by a glowing sunbeam, prismatic rainbows radiating outwards. But now we see this character trait reinforced by Kit Connor’s reliably masterful acting as well as by how the scene is edited together to show Nick’s various drafts of his text messages to Charlie, an efficient way for the audience to get to know how Nick’s mind works and what he’s thinking.

And this highly crafted scene continues with this attuned attention to detail, capturing subtle facial reactions to texts, performed with equal aplomb by Joe Locke. These text message conversations—a staple of the series—are really a quite remarkable way to present dialogue in a refreshing way, as we get to see characters try out drafts of what they want to send before they send a curated message, and we see their raw and unedited facial reactions to texts since there’s no one around that might cause them to adjust how they hold their face. For example, Charlie’s response to Nick’s question is, “Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry,” but the reaction in Nick’s face is clearly one of incredulity, something the audience sees but Charlie doesn’t. So the audience knows that Nick doesn’t believe Charlie, but Charlie doesn’t necessarily know that Nick doesn’t believe him. So instead we get to witness Nick coaxing information out of Charlie until he finally catches up with Nick and the audience and divulges how his relationship with Ben started and why it ended so badly. Nick is clearly so appalled to learn how horrible Ben is that he texts back that Ben’s not his friend anymore.

This touching scene ends with Charlie sending Nick a heart emoji when Nick says he’ll look after Charlie if Ben ever comes near him again. The look on Nick’s face, one of cautious hope and alluring warmth peppered with the faintest hint of confusion about what he’s feeling with Charlie (a confused feeling that will come to a head at the episode’s conclusion), is worth a thousand words, as they say (and I’m quite good at finding several thousand words). But Charlie doesn’t get to see Nick’s reaction, and he’s left to wonder what Nick is thinking while the audience has a pretty good idea of what’s starting to happen. Yet I felt such a loneliness for Charlie in that moment, Joe Locke’s superbly subtle, wordless performance capturing Charlie’s inner frustration that Nick can only be his “supportive straight friend,” but the audience already knows that Nick seems to be more than that, and we can’t wait for Charlie to catch up with us when he also gets to learn what’s actually motivating Nick’s desire to get to know him better.

The episode moves on to allow us more time to get to know Elle, who we met ever so briefly last episode. Recall that she is transgendered and left Truham in order to go to Higgs Girls School to escape bullying, one of the teachers at Truham even refusing to call her Elle. “Mr. Reed’s a massive transphobe,” Charlie remarked. In this episode, we first re-meet Elle as she’s walking to and taking a seat in her form classroom, the camera focusing its attention on two other young women at a different desk who we’ll later find out are Tara (Corinna Brown) and Darcy (Kizzy Edgell), and who Elle also seems intrigued by.

Elle’s form teacher has noticed that she has yet to make any friends and suggests she could assign Tara to look after her. But after Elle says she’s fine, the teacher then asks her to promise to make at least one new friend in the next couple of days before half-term. A montage allows us to witness time pass as Elle remains friendless in form, and during the montage we are treated to Yasmin Finney’s delicately underplayed and finely crafted ability to capture Elle’s inner thoughts with the slightest smile or the sweetest glance. A moment that sticks out to me is when Elle is staring into her form group, her face framed perfectly in a split-pane window, as she stares longingly to be friends with Tara and Darcy. It is such a lonely moment, but also a moment that can only lead to Elle finally becoming friends with Tara and Darcy. It is also an early example for the audience to witness Finney’s remarkable acting talent as she captures so much about a character in a single moment because of a subtle, longing glance. It’s the first exquisite glance of many that we’ll be treated to during the succeeding episodes, and each underplayed glance never fails to tell us so much about Elle through so little.

When we finally do get to see the first conversation between Elle and Tara, it’s when Tara comments lovingly about how cool her pencil case is, Elle revealing that she painted the charming flowers on it herself. “That’s so cool! I can barely draw stick figures!” Tara says, they both laugh, and then without another beat Tara asks, “Do you want to meet up for lunch with us today?” After Elle wonders if their form teacher cajoled Tara into reaching out to her, Tara says she didn’t, and it all seems believable, Elle’s slightest smile revealing feelings of inner hope and warmth that things continue to get better at her new school.

This hope is reaffirmed when Elle has lunch with Tara and Darcy for the first time, and the chemistry between the three of them is absolutely remarkable. The casting of this whole series has been remarkable, frankly, and it’s clear that not only are we witnessing a cast of close-knit friends in a fictional series who care deeply for each, we’re also being invited into the lives of real-life friends who also love working and being with each other. “Best gal pals,” Darcy describes her friendship with Tara, Tara providing just the slightest knowing glance towards Darcy not to reveal too much yet (an anxiety within Tara that will be clarified better later in this episode and which will come to a climax in episode six). But Darcy’s warmth in her comment cements that soon—if not already—the cast has a trio of best gal pals.

When we return to Nick and Charlie’s story, we see Charlie, Isaac, and Tao in study hall, Charlie scrolling through his phone, re-reading texts from Nick (“Anywayyy I have to sleep now… it’s so late haha,” Nick texts at one point after suggesting they need to play Mario Kart together). The look on Charlie’s face is of quieted infatuation, and even if Charlie scrolling through the texts is too fast for us to notice that Nick at one point writes, “I like talking to you,” the charmed expression on Charlie’s face is enough for us to know that he’s already starting to sense that Nick might be more than just a supportive straight friend. But Isaac and Tao tut and dismiss Nick as a “massive” and “ginormous heterosexual,” but Charlie is undeterred, stating that masculine men can be gay or even bisexual, foreshadowing revelations to come. While Tao’s insistence that Charlie needs to get over him is a moment of cold, tough love, it’s coming from a place of deep care for his friend’s wellbeing. “Be careful!” Tao told Charlie last episode. Tao’s distrust of the rugby boys is something that will continue to insert conflict into the plot, reaching a heartbreaking climax in episode seven, and it’s at once so sad to witness but also a necessary element of the story to show how much Tao cares for Charlie’s feelings and his safety.

Later on, Nick is showing pictures of his dog, Nellie, to Charlie, and much to Charlie’s delight, he invites him around on Saturday to meet her. It’s so adorable seeing how nervous Charlie is as his finger anxiously shakes ever so slightly as it hovers over the doorbell, pausing a moment before he rings it. But his nerves seem to dissipate immediately when Nick comes to the door, Nellie at his feet, and both of them get along like cards as they play Mario Kart, Nick commenting how he’s so good at not only video games but also maths, music, and running, Charlie struggling to find a way to accept the compliment.

We next are treated to one of those moments I promised would appear in each episode, a moment that “persistently champions a promise of a hopeful future where things will get better, providing a vision for the way things ought to be.” Nick and Charlie notice that it’s started snowing, and so they both go out with Nellie to enjoy it, throwing snowballs, making snow angels, catching snowflakes on their tongue, and lying next to each as the the snow continues to fall, the camera pulling back away from the ground as they lie next to each other while those characteristic animations of the show appear, this time as heavy snowflakes that augment the real ones we see on the screen. We’re also treated to another one of those subtle reaction shots, this time of Charlie staring lovingly towards Nick as they lie in the snow together, while enchanting music by Beabadoobee, “Dance with Me,” plays, the words echoing the visuals with lyrics like, “But I think I really like you.” This lovely, lovely moment that makes me feel just so, so happy imprints an indelible memory within me, and it’s a memory that imprints on both Charlie and Nick as we’ll later see in episode five.

We at last eventually get to see our quartet of best friends all interact together in person, when Tao calls an “emergency Charlie meeting” between Elle, Charlie, Isaac, and himself. They all want to get to the bottom of Nick’s sexuality, as Tao has heard that Nick likes a girl, and he only found this out because he was sweetly asking around for Charlie to see if Nick is available. Seeing the four characters interact together is a real delight, as they all clearly care deeply for each other. “I wanna believe in romance!” Isaac enthusiastically declares, hoping to discover that Nick likes Charlie back. The charming scene ends with the four of them getting together for a group hug, even Tao joining in who is hesitant at first. But it’s just so heartwarming to watch a television show about four really good friends from diverse backgrounds who want to make sure everyone is okay.

The girl in question that Nick apparently likes, of course, happens to be Tara Jones, who Elle has just become friends with, and so Tao, Isaac, and Charlie ask her to find out if Tara is interested in Nick. Elle is thrown the best bone ever when she is in French class with Tara and Darcy, and they are assigned to practice asking questions about each other. “Vous avez un petit ami?” she asks Tara, and Tara responds, “Non, je n’ai pas de petit ami.” And then Tara and Darcy both knowingly laugh, “What? It’s true!” Tara says, “I know it is!” Darcy responds. We are treated to some more lovely, subtle glances from Elle as she cautiously sizes up Tara and Darcy as more than just “best gal pals.” Later on, Elle confirms without a doubt that Tara and Darcy are both in a relationship (“You’ve befriended the school lesbians!” Darcy exclaims to Elle), but that it’s not really public information yet. Later on, Charlie is ecstatic that there’s no chance of anything happening between Nick and Tara, Elle carefully not revealing the reason why.

The episode reaches its conclusion when Nick comes by Charlie’s house where it becomes clearer and clearer that Nick is so obviously more than just a supportive straight friend. In another scene that just makes me feel such happiness, Nick and Charlie are both on the couch watching television, the hopeful, optimistic music of series composer Adiescar Chase underscoring this touching moment. Charlie is asleep, but Nick is awake and notices Charlie’s hand resting next to his knee, palm up. Nick nervously hovers his hand over Charlie’s, small animated fireworks lighting up the space between their two palms, an intense moment that expertly captures that feeling we all feel when we start falling for someone and feel a burning desire to make physical contact. Later on, when they have to say goodbye, Nick can’t resist but give Charlie a long, long hug. It is such a tender moment. This episode yet again finds a way to make me feel so, so happy that I don’t have enough room in my heart to keep the happiness all to myself. So I’m sharing it now with you.

There’s a final epilogue to the episode that transitions from exploring the absolute happiness that Nick feels for Charlie to the absolute terror that we queers feel when we realize who we are. I won’t dwell on it too much here, as episode three allows this moment more space. That said, when Nick is back home all alone in his bedroom, admiring photos of Charlie in the snow, he grabs his computer and goes to Google and types in “Am I gay?” The fear in Nick’s face is palpable before he even presses return on his keyboard, and his fear is a reflection of so much fear we queers feel everywhere, a moment that accurately reflects a very real realty. And while this episode ends on a sobering note, it’s necessary for this series to address these challenges we queers face. But it is all done with such delicate sensitivity and such loving care that it is clear that in the end—through all the debilitating pain, lonely suffering, and overwhelming adversity—things will get better… and hope, happiness, friendship, and love will prevail.

Final musings for episode 2:

1. When Nick is texting Charlie about how Ben is no longer his friend, Nick types, “If [Ben] ever comes near you again I’ll kick his ass.” I must concede that the use of the word ass could be a situation of American slang catching on in British English, but I’m more inclined to believe this is the first example of several (I’ll be sure to point the other examples out as as they appear) of a British programme (i.e. show) dumbing things down for Americans. In other words, I would have expected Nick to type arse instead of ass, but maybe ass is catching on in the UK. I couldn’t really tell when I did a bit of research on the use of ass versus arse, but if anyone knows for sure or if I’m being pedantic, please comment below. (I’m probably being pedantic.)
2. Rainbows again appear throughout this episode as they did in episode one when we first met Nick, this time in episode two when we initially see an establishing shot of Higgs Girls School, a rainbow streaking across the sky, and then again when Charlie is outside Nick’s house. Nick’s house is lit up in another sun beam, recalling the warm light that lit up Nick in his establishing shot last episode, while a sunbeam creates a prismatic rainbow next to Charlie. These are lovely little visual touches that further demonstrate the delicate care everyone brings to creating this amazing show.
3. When Elle meets up with Tara and Darcy for the first time at lunch, Darcy gives Elle a Monster Munch, which is a British junk food: baked corn shaped into paws that come in flavors like roast beef, pickled onion, and flamin’ hot. I’ve had various British junk foods like Wine Gums and Jelly Babies, but now I’ll need to make sure to try a bag of Monster Munch next time I’m over there.
4. The scenes between Charlie and his mentor and art teacher, Mr. Ajayi, are a delight to watch, the sage-like wisdom of Mr. Ajayi attempting to temper the distracted dreamings of a young, infatuated teenager. “I am officially a beacon of learning,” Mr. Ajayi describes himself, but we didn’t need him to say that aloud in order to understand it’s true, another example of this show being so adept at showing a character’s motivations before we’re explicitly told.
5. When Isaac, Charlie, and Tao are working on homework in class, Charlie says that Nick told him he was straight. I wasn’t sure if that revelation was a moment unshown on screen or if he was referring to the text exchange we saw early in the episode where Charlie writes, “Thank you for being my supportive straight friend haha,” and Nick responds, “Lol that’s okay!!!” Nick’s response is rather a non-answer to his sexuality, though, so I’m tempted to believe that Charlie is just inferring too much in order to try to help him get over his crush.
6. Jenny Walser as Tori, Charlie’s sister, continues to delight. Two episodes in a row now, it’s clear the running gag with Tori is that she has a knack for appearing out of thin air while sipping on a drink with a straw, startling a distracted Charlie. Walser’s deadpan delivery of lines like, “It looks the same,” when Charlie asks how his hair looks, or “I don’t think he’s straight,” after witnessing Nick hug Charlie for several seconds, are just some lovely moments of a brother/sister relationship that slowly reveals itself to be as close as ever as the episodes progress.
7. We get to see more of Olivia Colman this episode as Nick’s mom, and it’s always such a delight whenever we get to have a scene with her and Kit Connor. Colman as usual delivers a superb performance of an observant, caring mother who enjoys seeing how Nick has made friends with Charlie, someone who’s quite different from his other friends and around whom Nick seems to be able to be more like himself, as if Charlie allows a part of Nick that is buried to emerge.
8. We also get to meet Imogen (Rhea Norwood), a bubbly young girl who is friends with Nick, and who we’ll get to know a little better in episode three.
9. How cute is it when Nick and Charlie are saying goodbye after hanging out at Charlie’s house, and Nick admires Charlie wrapped in a blanket, commenting, “You look so cuddly like that!” I think Tori’s right: doesn’t seem like a straight boy to me either.

“What sort of boy do you want to go out with? Someone who’s also a nerd or do you want an opposites-attract thing?”

I’ll get straight to the point. I absolutely adore Heartstopper. I don’t think I’ve fallen in love with a show as hard as I have Heartstoppper since Community. Community transfixed me immediately, and I discovered it when seasons 1-3 had already been released. I binged on all 71 episodes, got to the end of season 3, then immediately started with season 1 episode 1 all over again. And I’ve since watched those first three seasons over and over so many times I’ve lost count.

And now Heartstopper is transfixing me in a similar way. Upon my writing this, I’m re-watching its current eight episode run a fourth time through, and it was released just a little over two weeks ago. I’m obsessed. So obsessed that I felt compelled to write about this amazing show and why I like it so much.

I don’t want to draw too many parallels between Community and Heartstopper, as they are two very different shows, but they do share some important similarities. Both shows feature a core cast of outcasts trying to figure out their way in the world; both take place in a school, one at an American community college and the other at British grammar schools; and both feature a diverse cast. I’m often drawn to shows like this, with Freaks and Geeks another notable example and a progenitor of this type of television drama.

The outcasts of Heartstopper are 14- and 15-year-old kids who are all trying to figure themselves out, who don’t quite fit into what’s necessarily popular, and who all have the largest and most brilliant hearts of gold, who—through all the disagreements, misunderstandings, and arguments—are able to acknowledge their faults, change their habits, express their love, and just be so terribly, genuinely, and thoughtfully friendly to each other. Every episode ends and I’m left just feeling so hopeful that despite all the horror that happens in this messed-up world that maybe—just maybe—we might all be able to get along after all.

Each episode of Heartstopper is also so expertly crafted to the highest degree: it shows when it doesn’t need to tell, and when it does tell, it is through finely crafted dialogue that creates believable and consistent characters; it weighs each scene with its proper due before cutting to the next; it uses light and color with such sensitivity as to paint each character’s motivations before we even hear them speak. The opening scene, for example, sees our geeky, lanky, curly-haired hero, Charlie Spring (Joe Locke), walking through the halls of Truham Boys School, smile on his face as he reads an Instagram message on his phone from someone called Ben: “Can’t wait to see you x.” Charlie continues to make his way through the colorful hallways of the school as upbeat music by Baby Queen plays. We see someone take down Christmas decorations which is all we need to see to alert us that it must be January. But eventually Charlie finds himself in the dark, shadowy, deserted school library. “Ben?” he asks the room, only to discover that Ben sent him a second message requesting to meet up later. Charlie struggles to type in a response, “Okay,” with a smiley and heart emoji, his face suddenly drained of happiness.

It seems a simple series of images and events, but in the space of just over a minute into the first episode we learn with no dialogue that Charlie seems confident that he knows who he is and he has a colorful personality, but something already doesn’t seem quite right with Ben. Ben is shadowy and secretive where Charlie is bright and assured. It’s clear that Ben and Charlie are not on the same page, and we haven’t yet even seen the two of them speak words to each other let alone appear in the same room together.

Meanwhile in the next scene, when we get introduced to Nick (Kit Connor), the other hero of the series, we instead are told through words that he’s a year older than Charlie and that he’s the star rugby player on the school’s team. After Charlie hears this from his teacher to discover that that’s who he’s going to sit next to in form—after having just been rained upon by Ben—we can see the frustration grow on Charlie’s face. However, when the camera pans to the direction of Nick, students moving out of shot to show him sitting at his desk, the camera focusing, a sun beam lighting Nick up in a warm hue, prismatic rainbows appearing to emanate from his comforting face, we immediately feel reassured by Nick’s presence. Tastefully animated colorful leaves wisp across the screen (another signature visual technique of this series), suggesting Charlie’s imagination getting lifted away in the wind as he makes his way to Nick, a giant smile on his face erasing all memories of his frustrating morning, and both boys exchange nervous greetings of hi, the first of countless exchanges of such a simple word that will take on new and deeper meaning as the series progresses. But even though we were told one thing about Nick, the visuals tell us something else entirely. Nick isn’t the average macho star rugby player but someone else more gentle and warm. The scene is also enriched by the music of series composer, Adiescar Chase, whose soft, sometimes poppy, electronic soundtrack creates a soundscape that is cautiously hopeful yet is seasoned with subtle shades of melancholy and doubt.

It makes sense that a show like Heartstopper would be good at showing the story through vibrant images rather than telling through the limitations of words, as the television series is based on a series of graphic novels by Alice Oseman, she too also writing the TV series. At points throughout the episode, for example, the camera uses splitscreen to show various camera angles of the same scene or of two different locations entirely, each vantage separated by white bars, chopping the screen into the characteristic panels of a graphic novel. It’s a very simple technique to allow us to thoroughly process a lot of information in a short space of time, and a lovely homage to the source material itself. And while this is a clever visual technique that allows Heartstopper to show rather than tell, we will also still discover that the writing is just as masterful as the visuals themselves, limitations of words and all.

And while the words used to describe Nick might suggest he is not an outcast to compliment an entire cast of outcasts, the visuals suggest that there might be something deeper within Nick that has been buried and is as yet unseen. That said, when we meet Charlie’s friends it becomes especially apparent that—a least for now—most of the cast is properly an outcast. At lunchtime, we meet Tao (William Gao) and Isaac (Tobie Donovan). Where Isaac is often quiet with his nose in a book, Tao is outspoken and unafraid to express his opinions, something that will get him into trouble later on in the series. He describes the trio as a group of outcasts, telling Charlie that he’s crazy to think Nick would be different from any other rugby player since he’s the star of the team and is friends with a bunch of “loud, gross, year 11s.” Charlie seems undeterred, seeming to sense something different about Nick, just as we did when we first met him in form. This whole conversation is so expertly written and directed; in a few short exchanges and a few underplayed facial reactions, Tao pressing Charlie to, “Be careful!” with Nick, we learn that while this group might be outcasts, they love and care deeply for each other.

The remaining character to meet during this episode to fill out the core cast of heros—at least for now—is Elle (Yasmin Finney), who is a young, transgendered woman who recently transferred to the nearby Higgs Girls School to escape bullying. Tao clearly holds a fondness for her (“You’re allowed to miss her,” Charlie supportively remarks), as he’s been buying two bottles of apple juice all week, forgetting that he and Elle can no longer share lunch together. Since the first episode mainly revolves around Charlie and Nick, we sadly don’t get to see much more of Elle this episode, and we learn only that she has yet to make friends at her new school. But the series will eventually—with one notable exception—give each main character their due. And lastly, I am so grateful that we have a Black trans woman represented on the show who is herself played by a Black trans woman.

As the episode progresses, and as Elle’s introduction reinforces, we are reminded that we still live in a world where queers are ridiculed and feel the need to hide who they really are out of fear of becoming outcasts. When we eventually do see Charlie meet up with Ben (Sebastian Croft), it is hidden away in the music room. And while Ben and Charlie do get to share a kiss, when it is over, Ben straightens up, wipes his lips dry with the back of his hand, and requests that they still keep it all a secret.

And then later, as Charlie and Nick are walking to maths (a great scene that shows the incredible chemistry Joe Locke and Kit Connor already share as Charlie badgers Nick for being chaotic, doing his homework on the way to class, and Nick remarking that that makes him sound much cooler than he actually is), Charlie says hello to Ben as they were all passing each other in the corridor. Ben coldly tells Charlie, “Why are you talking to me? I don’t even know who you are.” And while Ben will apologize to Charlie in a later scene, it’s disingenuous, and Charlie knows it, as he later hides in the art room during lunch, offloads on Mr. Ajayi (Fisayo Akinade), his mentor who is also gay, and who says that he’ll need to talk to Ben, as difficult as that is since he knows how hard it is for Charlie to be honest (at least Charlie is confident he knows he has a hard time being honest). I also felt such loneliness for Charlie when he said he can’t even talk about these sorts of things to his friends, because they wouldn’t understand since they’re not gay. This loneliness is real in far too many of us queers, especially when we’re young, and that reality is meaningfully reflected in that seemingly innocuous comment as well as in Ben’s unwillingness to even associate openly with an out gay boy.

Queers also go to incredible lengths to hide themselves, as later Charlie catches Ben at the school gate kissing a girl. This ends up being the final straw for Charlie who later breaks up with him via some Instagram messages. I found myself cheering Charlie on during this scene while also empathizing a little bit with Ben who struggles to be out of the closet. This is an arc that will continue to play out throughout the rest of the next seven episodes as it addresses the pains we queers feel about the need to lie about ourselves.

Eventually, Charlie unexpectedly finds himself being invited to play on the rugby team after Nick saw how fast Charlie could run during P.E. class. Before Charlie even gets to prove himself to the rest of the boys on the team, he overhears them making disparaging comments about him, that he’s so small they think he’s in year 8, that he can’t play, that he doesn’t like sports, and that everyone knows he’s gay. In due time, however, as Charlie learns how to play rugby and gets better and better, the whole team does seem to warm to him (seem the operative word), but this is another arc that will continue to play out for the rest of the series, coming to a heart-wrenching climax in the penultimate episode.

The episode soon progresses to its conclusion. Following one of the rugby practices, Nick notices that Charlie seems distracted, and so secretly follows him to the music block where he’s meeting up with Ben, who wants to talk to Charlie about why he broke up with him. During an intensely real conversation, Charlie is able to express that it’s fine if Ben needs time to come out but that he still needs to treat him like a human when others are around. Ben grossly tries to force Charlie to kiss him in a legitimately rapey moment, but one of our heroes, Nick, springs out from the corner and forces Ben away from Charlie and tells Ben to piss off.

Nick takes a moment to make sure Charlie is okay, but Charlie only says he’s sorry. “You have nothing to be sorry about,” Nick says, “Sorry,” Charlie responds, to which Nick comments, “You say sorry a lot.” Nick stops Charlie from saying sorry a third time, but Charlie brightens a bit with a subtle smile and remarks, “I kinda wanna say it.” This “s-word,” as Nick will label it in episode seven, will become a recurring trope, reminding us of Nick and Charlie’s first, shared, vulnerable encounter together.

The two young men—two opposites commencing an unexpected journey together—eventually bid farewell at the school gate, and Charlie is beaming. Later, he struggles with what to text Nick, settling on “thank you x.” Nick reads it as his mother drives him home, and he begins beaming himself, animated seagulls taking flight across the screen, cleverly foreshadowing the concluding moments of the entire first series in episode eight.

These last few scenes culminated in such a touching moment. And it’s the first such touching moment of so many. And each episode this series will receive a moment like this that persistently champions a promise of a hopeful future where things will get better, providing a vision for the way things ought to be. And it’s probably the main reason I love this show so much: its themes and messages of indestructible hope, unwavering friendship, and enduring love defying the sarcastic shrieks of the seemingly insurmountable odds of gross bullies, ugly bigotry, appalling injustice, and fanatic evil.

And what a masterpiece this first episode is! The carefully crafted colors of each scene, the delicately chosen words of each moment, the beautiful use of vibrant animations, the carefully framed shots, the thoughtful editing of each succession of images timed to a glorious cadence and gentle choreography, all culminating in flawless television. This episode sets a high bar for others to follow, but each successive episode never disappoints and each one continues on with a determined confidence and a steadfast purpose to deliver some of the greatest television I’ve ever seen. This show just makes me feel so happy and so hopeful that I don’t have enough room in my heart to keep it all to myself. Please watch it and prepare yourself to be whisked away to a world filled with incredible human beings trying to make the best of it.

Final musings for episode 1:

1. After all that excessive praise, I do want to make note of a glaring elephant, and probably the only bit of notable irritation I have with this series. While we do have an amazing cast of diverse characters featuring a Chinese straight boy, a Black trans girl, a white straight boy, and—later on—a Black lesbian and her white girlfriend, the two leads are white, cis-gendered boys, one gay and one questioning. This is by no means a fatal flaw to the series, but it is something that is glaringly obvious and difficult to ignore. At the same time, this show is still remarkably diverse, and I am still so grateful that we have a trans character represented on the show. It’s a long overdue step in the right direction.
2. As I referenced throughout, the series creatively uses text messages to express dialogue, the kids frantically thumbing their phones as they type messages to each other that appear to the audience on our screen, complete with the character’s Instagram avatar. It also helps us to see the characters’ inner thoughts as they write one message, delete it, find a different way to express something, groan as they delete that, and then finally type a curated draft of their thoughts. For example, when Charlie breaks up with Ben via Instagram messages, he first types “Do you have a girlfriend?” then deletes and types, “I HATE YOU!!!” and then deletes and finally sends, “I don’t want to meet up anymore.” It’s an efficient way to show all the feelings and confusion Charlie was sensing in that moment.
3. Another trademark technique the show uses in addition to small animations of birds and leaves wisping across the screen, is to animate or colorize the whole screen when a character is fantasizing about or imagining something. For example, right before Nick asks Charlie to be on the rugby team, the entire screen turns shades of pink and rose petals float across the screen as Charlie imagines that Nick is about to tell him that he’s also gay and wants to be with him.
4. We also get to meet Charlie’s sister, Tori (Jenny Walser), the morning after Charlie calls things off with Ben. While she is a supporting character, she’s a memorable character who leaves a lasting impression. Her no-nonsense attitude is a delight. When she finds out that Charlie broke up with Ben, she remarks, deadpan, “Was he a knob?” And when Charlie agrees that he’s a knob, she adds, “Well done then.” The next morning we get to see them riding the bus to school together, as Tori asks if Charlie wants to date another nerd or someone totally opposite, foreshadowing things to come. Both scenes are early tastes of what eventually is revealed to be a very close brother/sister relationship, even if Tori’s austere personality in her introductory scenes suggests something else.
5. The headmaster of the boys school is never seen and only heard over the tannoy, but it’s unmistakably and immediately recognizably the famous voice of Stephen Fry.
6. We only get to see her for a bit this episode as she drives Nick home from school, but the lovely, lovely Olivia Colman plays Nick’s mom. And as usual she’s absolutely glorious, even with just her three lines in this episode. We’ll get to talk more about Colman’s character as the series continues.
7. And lastly, how cute is it that Tao—not Charlie—describes Nick as a golden retriever?