<\/a><\/p>\n <\/p>\n
After burning it all down in last week\u2019s mic-drop moment, Deborah Vance finds herself in unfamiliar territory: stuck. The non-compete clause Bob Lipka so smugly threw in her face at the end of last week\u2019s episode, is airtight. Every fancy lawyer in town agrees \u2013 and so do the shady ones, because Deb asked them all. There\u2019s simply no loophole. She can\u2019t perform, not for the next 18 months. Even if she were willing to pay the damages (which would be A LOT), no venue would want to be dragged into a legal battle with a media conglomerate.<\/p>\n
The Late Night Show was Deborah\u2019s dream. She never imagined she\u2019d walk away from it. So, for once, she didn\u2019t obsess over the fine print like she usually would. And now, this is the consequence: she\u2019s being silenced, both legally and creatively. It\u2019s brutal. And it\u2019s heartbreaking.<\/p>\n
Ava, of course, tries to help \u2013 despite being completely out of her depth. She feels guilty, knowing Deborah only lost the show because she refused to fire her. But not once does Deborah blame her. She never even hints at regret. She hates that she can\u2019t perform, but not that she stood up to Lipka.<\/p>\n
Ava encourages her to keep working on new material in the meantime. After all, \u201cit\u2019s only 18 months.<\/i>\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s a long time for me,<\/i>\u201d Deborah says. And it is. Losing a year and a half of stage time is no small thing, especially when you\u2019re in your seventies and burning with energy and ideas.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf I\u2019m not on that stage, I have nothing<\/i>,\u201d she admits, before telling Ava she\u2019s heading back to Vegas. Alone. She needs space.<\/p>\n
She spends time with her grandson which is undeniably adorable to watch, but it\u2019s not exactly fulfilling. Not for her, and not for us. She visits Marcus, hoping to revive Deborah Vance Industries, but even that\u2019s out of reach. \u201cI can\u2019t perform. I don\u2019t even own my own name,<\/i>\u201d she says, and the weight of that line lands like a punch.<\/p>\n
Slowly, Deborah starts to unravel. She sleeps late. Watches hours of mindless TV. Josefina checks in just to make sure she\u2019s still breathing. And the clearest sign that Deborah Vance has hit rock bottom: she steps outside wearing SWEATPANTS. In public!<\/p>\n
At a shop, she spots a glittery hat that says \u201cDIVA,\u201d but walks out with one that simply reads \u201cGIRL.\u201d That\u2019s what she is now: just a woman, unnamed. Not the icon. Not the legend.<\/p>\n
Then Marty calls. I wasn\u2019t exactly thrilled \u2013 it\u2019s Marty after all \u2013 but he genuinely seems worried. He invites her to his hotel in Hawaii, sensing that she needs a break from herself, from everything. He reminds her of some of the good times they once had, and for a brief moment, we see it: there used to be real affection there. I\u2019ll admit, I was worried he\u2019d take advantage of her vulnerability, try to start something up again. But to his credit, he didn\u2019t. And for a split second, that almost made him likable.<\/p>\n
After thinking it over, Deborah decides to take Marty up on his offer and head to Hawaii. Naturally, Ava comes along. And while I fully support them vacationing together, I have to admit that I was a little confused. Just a few scenes ago, Deborah was moping around Vegas, seemingly with zero contact with Ava. Now suddenly, they\u2019re jetting off together like it\u2019s the most natural thing in the world? It feels like we missed a scene … or three.<\/p>\n<\/p>\n