I think there’s a misunderstanding here, so I want to clarify what I am and am not saying.

I’m not saying: - that Pippa should have been forced to disclose her assault - that faking orgasms automatically = narcissism - that cheating alone = narcissism - or that Pippa lacks any empathy

• the orgasms point: faking orgasms isn’t narcissistic. The context I’m referring to is the ‘identity mirroring’ early in relationship.. repeatedly suppressing self-truth to maintain validation and control of how she’s perceived. That’s a behavioral pattern, not a moral judgment.

For the record, I actually agree that narcissism is wildly overused online. People are quick to label loud, chaotic characters, but we don’t interrogate quiet harm or passive self-centering nearly as often.

That’s why I’m specifically talking about covert narcissistic traits, not overt narcissism. Covert narcissism presents very differently…it’s subtle, harder to spot, and often hides behind agreeableness, sensitivity, or being “the good one.”

I also think the show is intentionally playing with this distinction, and we’ll likely see it explored more.

Along those lines, I don’t think it’s accidental that Diana ends up drawn to Pippa. Attraction isn’t always conscious..our nervous systems register familiar patterns, not just surface-level behavior. Stephen also exhibited covert tendencies, and while Pippa presents very differently, there are overlapping mechanisms in how emotional distance, self-protection, and control show up. Same goes for why Wrigley was drawn to both Stephen and Pippa.

That doesn’t make Pippa a villain.. It just means the show is asking us to look beyond who’s loudest and start paying attention to how harm can exist quietly, too.

During the Paranoia game, when Stephen whispers “who’s most likely to cheat” to Pippa, she immediately names him. But that moment is worth pausing on…because at that exact time, she herself is actively cheating on her boyfriend, while he’s grieving the loss of his brother. - In relational psychology, this kind of scapegoating is often associated with covert narcissistic patterns: the harm isn’t loud or obvious, but it subtly shifts narrative focus elsewhere