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What to Watch: Euphoria Season 3 Proves Growing Up Didn’t Fix Anything

Reel Perspectives

January 14, 2026


Rue Bennett played by Zendaya; Eddy Chen/HBO
Rue Bennett played by Zendaya; Eddy Chen/HBO

Five years later, Rue and the crew are older, louder, and still running from the same damage.



😬💸 Euphoria Is Back — and the Mess Has a Mortgage


Guess who’s back… back again? Rue’s back and running — from her life choices, her demons, and possibly the plot itself.


That’s right, Euphoria is clocking back in to terrorize our nervous systems, with Season 3 premiering Sunday, April 12. HBO Max just dropped the trailer, and the chaos is already in a light jog — on a freeway, glitter-adjacent, ignoring consequences, and stressing out your mama.


But before we lace up and spiral together, let’s rewind and rekindle our complicated affection for these reckless, law-breaking “teens” — played by adults pushing 30, thank God — because this mess has lore, flashbacks, Labrinth vocals, and a very long memory.



⏪ A Quick (But Brace Yourself) Refresher: Seasons 1 & 2


Season 1: Rue, Relapse, and the Blueprint of Disaster


At the center of Euphoria is Rue Bennett — beautifully, devastatingly played by Emmy winner Zendaya — a teenager who tells us from jump that something in her brain has always been off. Mood swings. Impulses. Numbness. And eventually, drugs — the kind DARE warned us ’90s kids about and still lost the room and the assembly.


Rue’s addiction starts young, quietly, and tragically: stealing her dying father’s painkillers while no one’s looking. By the time the series opens, she’s fresh out of rehab after a near-fatal overdose, already white-knuckling sobriety she doesn’t fully believe in.


Hope is present. Faith is not.


Lexi Howard played by Maude Apatow; Eddy Chen/HBO
Lexi Howard played by Maude Apatow; Eddy Chen/HBO

Season 1 unfolds like emotional whiplash — each episode zooming in on a different character, but always tethered to Rue’s POV. Around her orbits a cast of teens unraveling in their own personalized ways: Nate Jacobs (played by Jacob Elordi) weaponizes masculinity and control like a varsity sport; Maddy Perez (Alexa Demie) mistakes volatility for passion — until she absolutely does not; Cassie Howard (Sydney Sweeney) confuses validation with intimacy; Kat Hernandez (Barbie Ferreira) experiments with online power before the show largely forgets she exists (yes, we clocked that); and Lexi Howard (Maude Apatow) watches quietly from the sidelines, taking notes like she’s already drafting the third act.


No matter where the camera drifts — carnivals, bathrooms, glitter-drenched breakdowns — it always snaps back to Rue and her relationship with Jules Vaughn (played by Hunter Schafer): intoxicating, codependent, and doomed from the pilot.


Rue falls hard. Jules dreams bigger. They talk about running away together. Jules actually tries. Rue relapses instead.


The season ends with Rue spiraling backward while Jules boards a train alone — a quiet, brutal thesis statement for the show: love doesn’t cure addiction, and wanting something badly isn’t the same as being able to keep it.


Season 2 takes that truth, puts it on a Labrinth track, and lights the match.


Season 2: Everyone Hits Rock Bottom (Some Multiple Times)


Season 2 of Euphoria wastes zero time lighting the fuse — then immediately throws the whole box of matches onto the freeway.


Rue convinces everyone she’s sober. She is not. She’s using harder drugs, lying better, and quietly sitting on a suitcase full of narcotics she’s supposed to sell — not to build generational wealth, but to stay high. When Jules finds out (thanks to guitar-playing Elliot, played by Dominic Fike) and tells Rue’s mom (emotionally played by Nika King), the house of cards collapses instantly.


No montage. No mercy. Just mess.


What follows is one of the show’s most harrowing arcs: an intervention that detonates on contact, Rue verbally napalming everyone she loves, destroying her house, and sprinting through the city — barefoot, feral, and emotionally uninsurable — to avoid rehab. Somewhere between screaming at her family and dodging traffic, she also realizes she owes thousands of dollars to a woman who does not negotiate.


Eventually, Rue is brought home — battered, furious, and hollowed out. By season’s end, she vows to stay clean through the school year. It’s not a comeback. It’s a ceasefire.


Meanwhile, everyone else is also making decisions that should’ve stayed buried in their Notes app — password-protected.


Cassie hooks up with Nate — her best friend Maddy’s abusive ex — and proceeds to spiral loudly, publicly, and with Olympic-level commitment. Nate tries to remake Cassie into a Wish-dot-com version of Maddy, down to the clothes, the makeup, and the emotional dependency. Cassie lets him. When the truth finally comes out, Maddy chooses restraint… which is character development but also a very real threat.


Cassie Howard played by Sydney Sweeney; Eddy Chen/HBO
Cassie Howard played by Sydney Sweeney; Eddy Chen/HBO

Nate, in a rare moment of moral clarity that lasts approximately one episode, retrieves a horrifying tape involving his father and Jules and gives it back to Jules — traumatizing Maddy in the process, but still managing to do exactly one decent thing before returning to menace.


Speaking of dads: Cal Jacobs (played by Eric Dane) fully implodes — drunkenly confessing that his entire life is a lie, peeing on the floor, and exiting his family like it’s an avant-garde performance piece. Nate’s mom later hints at darker truths about Nate’s childhood — threads the show dangles ominously, then refuses to resolve.


Then there’s Fezco and Lexi — the season’s emotional soft spot. What starts as a New Year’s party conversation turns into a genuine connection. Long phone calls. Mutual respect. Actual tenderness. Fez, played by the late Angus Cloud, brings rare warmth to a show addicted to destruction — which is exactly why fans let their guard down.


Which is exactly why it hurt.


The season builds toward Lexi’s play — a meta, messy, truth-telling spectacle that drags everyone’s secrets under stage lights. Fez never makes it to opening night. The past catches up. Police surround his house. Violence erupts. And the fantasy collapses.


Season 2 ends not with answers, but with exhaustion. Rue is sober — for now. Relationships are fractured. And Euphoria makes one thing brutally clear:


Adulthood doesn’t cure the damage. It just sends a bigger bill.



🔥 Season 3: Grown, Not Healed


Season 3 of Euphoria doesn’t ease back in — it time-jumps five years into the future, checking in on these former high school disasters as full-grown adults who absolutely did not leave the chaos behind. The acne cleared. The problems evolved. The consequences now cost more.


At the center, still: Rue Bennett, now living south of the border in Mexico — and still very much in debt to Laurie, the quietly terrifying drug dealer played by Martha Kelly. Rue narrates the trailer in the past tense, almost wistful:


“I don’t know if life was exactly what I wished, but somehow, for the first time, I was beginning to have faith.”

Which, in Euphoria language, means the other shoe is already in the air.

Sure enough, Laurie shows up to collect, reminding Rue that consequences don’t respect time jumps or fresh starts. Danger circles fast — and that’s before Rue crosses paths with her ex, Jules Vaughn, in a brief, loaded reunion that suggests old wounds never really closed. Distance didn’t save them. It just delayed the reckoning.


Elsewhere, the futures are… bleak in brand-new ways.


Hunter Schafer plays Jules Vaughn; Eddy Chen/HBO
Hunter Schafer plays Jules Vaughn; Eddy Chen/HBO

Cassie Howard and Nate Jacobs are engaged, suburban, and deeply miserable — a jump scare in beige. Cassie is making NSFW content online. Nate is furious. “I work all day, and my bride-to-be is spread-eagled on the internet,” he snaps.


Cassie’s response? Calm, chilling, and extremely 2026:


“I was just making content.” 

Yes, their wedding is in the trailer as well. Pray for everyone involved.


Maddy Perez is working at a Hollywood talent agency, serving looks and proximity to power as if she were born for it. Lexi Howard is now an assistant to a showrunner — played by new cast addition Sharon Stone — which feels dangerously on-brand for the sister who’s always been watching, observing, and quietly writing it all down.


Maddy Perez played Alexa Demie; Eddy Chen/HBO
Maddy Perez played Alexa Demie; Eddy Chen/HBO

After more than four years away — delayed by packed schedules, behind-the-scenes tensions, and creator Sam Levinson’s own detours — Euphoria isn’t pretending things get easier with age.


They just get louder, lonelier, and significantly more expensive.



🎬 Behind the Camera — and the Guest-Star Chaos


If Euphoria has always been about bad decisions, Season 3 is about what happens after the excuses expire.


Creator Sam Levinson has been clear about the pivot: this season exists outside the safety net of high school. No bells. No lockers. No “they’re just kids” loopholes. The five-year time jump drops these characters into adulthood — or at least something adjacent — where consequences don’t reset and damage compounds.


That shift matters. And it’s why we’re locked in.


Season 3 also carries a quieter weight. The absence of Fezco isn’t just narrative — it’s emotional. Angus Cloud brought humanity and restraint to a world addicted to excess, and his loss lingers over the series in ways Euphoria doesn’t rush to explain or replace.


Rather than filling that space, the show mutates — and the guest list proves it.

Season 3 introduces a stacked slate of new faces, including Sharon Stone, Natasha Lyonne, Danielle Deadwyler, Rosalía, Eli Roth, Marshawn Lynch, Sam Trammell, and Asante Blackk.


And yes — before anyone pretends this isn’t important — Trisha Paytas is also part of the season. No character details. No explanation. Just vibes, discourse, and a collective gasp. Which feels extremely on brand.


So why are we still watching?



🎭 Why Euphoria Still Has Us Hooked


Yes, Season 3 of Euphoria is finally — actually — happening, and the trailer makes it clear the show didn’t come back calmer, kinder, or interested in your peace.


And that’s the quiet cruelty of Euphoria. It doesn’t promise much in the way of character growth — it promises exposure, vulnerability, and the utmost in drama. Season 3 traps these characters between who they were and who they pretend to be now, asking how long denial can go on before it becomes a lifestyle choice.


So yes, we’re running (and tuning in) again. Not because we expect progress. Not because we believe in happy endings.


But because Euphoria understands a hard truth: growing up doesn’t save you — it just takes the training wheels off the damage.


Watch the trailer below:



Euphoria Season 3 premieres Sunday, April 12, on HBO Max. Proceed with caution and lowered expectations. 😮‍💨🔥

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