Pluto The Series Episode 7 Part 1 Recap: When Love, Class, and Secrets Collide
A recap and analysis of Pluto The Series Episode 7 Part 1 — unpacking May’s flashbacks, journal-like inner monologue, power dynamics, camera choices, and the episode’s big gay energy.
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Big Gay Energy
9/27/20258 min read
Why Episode 7 Matters in Pluto The Series
Episode 7 arrives at the midpoint of Pluto The Series where the quiet strategies become full blow emotional maneuvers. We get clearer answers about when May knew certain things, and we see how her private archives of memory and writing shape the narrative we are following. This episode forces us to look at who holds power, and how power is exercised both gently and violently.
Throughout this recap we will follow the structure of the episode and highlight key filmmaking choices, character beats, and the social dynamics that make this installment so dense. We will also call out moments that are big gay energy moments, and of course, argue about whether arson for love was ever justified.
Opening Moments: The Save the Date, the Call, and May’s Rock Bottom
The episode starts in 2023 with May at home after a trip abroad. The visual storytelling here is precise. A panning shot links a save the date for Oom’s wedding with May’s face, and that sequence alone sums up so much. May is in the dark, physically and emotionally, and the camera establishes her vulnerability. Later we learn the date on that card connects to the accident which launched the show’s core tragedy, but here the camera above her makes her look small and alone.
Ton is the one to arrive with news, and his entrance is staged to care for May before he gives a single fact. He leads with reassurance, which is a small character beat that tells us how he reads May. He says, don’t blame yourself, before he tells her Paul is dead and Oom is in critical condition. The severity of May’s reaction is palpable. We have seen May composed and controlled. This scene is one of those rare moments where we actually see her crack.
Filmmaking Talk: Camera Choices That Carry Feeling
We want to call out the filmmaking choices because they are deliberate. The opening uses high angles to make May feel small. When Ton speaks, light falls onto him while May remains in shadow. The camera subtly switches to handheld when the truth hits, which introduces a little physical instability mirroring May’s internal state. The handheld becomes most pronounced when May utters the line that everything should have been different. That moment is tiny but vital, because it signals the beginning of May’s more reflexive, journaled voice that runs through the remainder of the episode.
Meeting Scenes and Power Plays: The Staircase and the Kiss
The meeting between May and Ai is a masterclass in point of view. On first viewing we had seen the staircase moment in Episode 1 from Ai's angle. Rewatching it now from May’s perspective reframes the entire beat. May descends knowing who Ai is. She has full power in that initial frame because she holds the secret.
We like an idea we saw on TikTok about staircases in film. When someone walks down a staircase to speak to a person below, they often relinquish the high ground. May starts with the power, but as she walks closer she is intentionally placing herself on the same level as Ai. That is because Ai is the unknown as much as she is desired. It is a beautiful visual metaphor for the risk May is taking.
Then there is the kiss. May’s impulsive move to kiss Ai changes the course of both their lives. It was a gamble she had considered for years. For Ai, the kiss is the moment of decision. For May it is the highest form of honesty she has in that moment. It is also a test. May wants to know whether Ai’s feelings are for her or for the idea of Oom. When Ai kisses back, that becomes proof in May’s mind that the feelings are real.
Back to Childhood: How a School Uniform Set the Whole Plot in Motion
The teenage flashback explains why May’s love was confused for years. She met Ai as a teenager, but read the name on Ai’s uniform as Oom. The embroidered name becomes the seed of a lifelong mistake. That moment is devastating because it shows how small misunderstandings can calcify into decades of misdirection. The show plays this with a heartbreaking irony. May spends years in love with someone she thinks is Oom, because of an embroidered name and a single gesture that swore everything in place.
The Road Trip: Reassurance, Phones, and the Promise
We rejoin May and Ai’s road trip and that car scene is a quiet powerhouse. May is sitting in the passenger seat, nervous about Ploy's opening. Ai, ever clumsy and direct, fails at communicating some basics that a blind partner needs. She unbuckles the seatbelt without telling May they have arrived. These small misses are both funny and tender. It is classic Ai to misread cues and classic May to be patient with the misreadings.
Ai calms May by telling her she has never once thought of leaving her. That line, said with no hesitation, is enormous. It is the explicit reassurance May needs to step into vulnerability again. May’s response is cautious optimism. She cannot fully trust it yet, because she has historically planned against loss. But that assurance recharges her in a way the audience can feel. It sets the scene for what comes next at Ploy’s.
Ploy’s Pre Opening: High Society, Petty Women, and the Social Game
Ploy arranges a pre-opening for May that includes people from May’s social orbit. That should have been a safe moment. Instead it becomes a field of social weapons. Ann and Franc (who we nicknamed "the terrible twosome") behave in ways that show how transactional this circle is. They throw microaggressions at May under the pretense of concern. Their use of the word pity is especially cruel. For May, who rejects pity, hearing it is a sharp knife.
What struck us was the difference between performance and authenticity. Ploy is the one who arranges the event, yet she vacillates between doing the right thing and protecting the social capital of her friends. This dynamic shows how people with status sometimes fail those they call friends for the sake of public safety and polite society. It is a quiet betrayal that stings.
Classism On Display
When Ai walks into the event, she is wearing street clothes. The room immediately judges her by that one signifier. The terrible twosome present this whole evening as an opportunity to assess May through status cues. Because Ai does not play the class game she is immediately seen as a threat. That scene gives us a lesson about how people weaponize class to control conversation. The moral of the scene is that real love, the kind Ai shows for May, does not depend on clothes or inflected speech. But in high society, optics matter and they hurt.
The Bathroom Scene: Eavesdropping and Projection
Ai overhears the terrible twosome gossiping in the bathroom. Their conversation is a textbook example of projection. They attack May for being cocky and for thinking she is untouchable, while the subtext is their own fear of losing proxy power through marriage. One of them even admits that their association with May is transactional. That moment is telling because it removes a final veil of place from the relationship. These women are not friends, they are strategic allies.
To Ai the betrayal is obvious. To May it is confirmation of what she feared. And to Ploy it is awkward because she has to choose whether to protect her brand or her friend. We find Ploy in an uneasy middle ground. She admires May privately for her assertiveness, but she still hesitates to go against the social grain.
The Confrontation: Glass Breaks and Social Masks Slip
Ai pursues the women outside and calls them out. The exchange is raw. Then, in a clumsy physical moment, one of the privileged women steps back onto a cart of glassware and breaks expensive pieces. That sound of shattering is the catalytic event. Ploy finally responds in a way she had not during insults. She acts to protect her property. That response reveals priorities. Property matters more than slights. This becomes a turning point in how the evening unfolds and it is narratively satisfying for the wrong reasons.
Ai Under the Hood: The Kitchen Plan and the Sprinklers
This is where things escalate. Ai heads into the kitchen alone and deliberately sets up frying fish in a way that creates smoke. She is counting on a trigger and on the building’s systems. She wants the society women to be rained on. That action comes from rage, but it also comes from a background of survival where her only arsenal is direct physical mischief. She wants to make them uncomfortable in the way they made May uncomfortable.


We get CCTV footage with music that, for some reason, makes the entire sequence look like a disco. That odd choice increases the surrealness of the moment. The women in the kitchen do what wealthy people often do in crisis. They stand in place and clutch their drinks. They are as much a spectacle as they wanted to make May. Then Ai and May drive off like criminals in a getaway car. The juxtaposition of the chaotic kitchen with the Thelma and Louise escape is darkly funny and oddly liberating.
Was It Arson or a Message?
We have to answer the question we asked in the episode. Was Ai wrong to stage smoke for the sprinklers? From a legal and ethical standpoint it was reckless. Ploy’s property was endangered, and the pre opening could have been ruined. From an emotional standpoint Ai’s intentions were to defend May. The two are not the same. If we are being honest, the act was driven by rage and lack of a better strategy. We get why she did it, and we also have to hold that it was a bad plan that could have hurt a lot more people than it did.
Aftermath and the Seeds of Suspicion
In the car after the stunt we get another quiet assassination of trust. May gets a call from Ton who tells her that Kosol is identified as the person who attacked her as revenge for representing Batman. He also confirms that Ai is friends with both Kosol and Ben. For May this layering of facts is devastating. If Ai is connected to the attacker, was any of this real? The show carefully forces May to ask questions about whether she was manipulated at some point. The paranoia is reasonable. May has built a life of strategy to avoid this exact kind of exposure.
Final Thoughts: What Pluto The Series Is Doing Here
Pluto The Series keeps layering perspective. Episode 7 Part 1 is about viewpoint. Who gets to tell the story. Who sees what. Who is believed and who is dismissed. We leave this episode with a few questions that matter for the rest of the run. Will May tell Ai about the Ben case and the legal ripples that followed? Will Ai face consequences for her kitchen stunt? What will Ploy do now that property and emotions are at odds?
The show also wants us to ask larger questions. How do class and status shape friendship? How does the language of pity and the performance of worry generate more harm than help? Why do people choose to live in performative friendship if it hurts like this?
Pluto The Series asks us to consider who deserves our protection, and perhaps more, who deserves our honest selves. May and Ai’s arc right now is that messy, human place where love looks like mistake making, and mistakes look like truth telling. That complexity is why we cannot stop talking about it.
Questions for You
Do you think Ai’s sprinkler plan was ever justified, even emotionally?
How do you feel about Ploy’s hesitation to protect May at first but then to protect property later?
We want to hear what you think. Pluto The Series keeps asking us to pick a side and then shows how messy every side is. That is the point. Let us know your take and until next time, hydrate for lesbian Jesus and gay it up all over the place until we reconvene for Episode 7 Part 2.





