The Netflix series XO, Kitty returned with a third and final season that doubled as a farewell for the spinoff of Jenny Han’s films. This show — launched as a spin-off of the To All the Boys films in 2026 — blends Korean settings and Western teen-drama sensibilities, and season three pushed the narrative into new locations while tying up long-running romantic arcs. Fans and critics have argued over its tone, but one consistent praise has been its foregrounding of multiple queer female and gender-diverse characters.
Beyond the plot twists, much of the series’ emotional power comes from the ensemble of young women and the actors who inhabit them. Below is a profile of the key lesbian and bisexual characters, the performers who play them, and how their storylines and off-screen biographies add texture to the show’s queer universe.
Principal characters and the actors who play them
Kitty Song-Covey is the heart of the series, and Anna Cathcart gives the role an energetic, self-exploring quality. Kitty’s queer awakening is a central thread, and the actress has talked about enjoying the chance to portray a teenager who is still figuring things out. Off-screen, Cathcart balances acting with studies in social themes and creative writing, and she brings a relatable, down-to-earth presence to a character who oscillates between matchmaking and messy self-discovery. Her performance anchors many of the show’s tender moments.
Juliana, played by Regan Aliyah, has one of the more complicated arcs: a secret relationship with Yuri, a painful forced separation, a return to KISS with hopes of openness, and later a new romance that forces her to confront lingering feelings. Regan’s career spans early digital work and larger franchise entries; she appeared in a Marvel show in 2026, performs as half of a music duo with her sister, and has been public about her own sexuality since coming out in 2026. Those real-world experiences feed into Juliana’s emotional authenticity on screen.
Yuri Han, portrayed by Gia Kim, is the archetypal glamorous rival who reveals depth beyond her queen-bee exterior. Yuri juggles an on-screen relationship with Dae while secretly dating Juliana, and her dynamic with Kitty evolves into a charged, confusing connection that ultimately settles into friendship. Gia Kim, a Korean-Danish performer and a self-described third-culture kid, has spoken about how rare it felt to play a gay Asian ‘‘queen-bee’’ figure with layers rather than a flat stereotype.
Praveena Bhakti, brought to life by Sasha Bhasin, arrives as another important South Asian queer voice in the series. Praveena shares a season-two romance with Kitty and later dates Juliana in season three, exposing emotional entanglements that test all the characters. Bhasin emigrated to the United States as a baby and studied Politics at New York University; she has described the role as significant precisely because it presents a South Asian queer character whose identity is part of her, not the whole of her story.
Season three: setting, structure and how audiences reacted
Season three picks up immediately after a dramatic cliffhanger and shifts portions of the action to Busan, using familiar landmarks such as Haeundae Market, Gamcheon Culture Village and Gwangalli Beach to broaden the show’s visual palette. The cast later reconvenes at the Korean Independent School of Seoul, where graduation and future choices force characters to make definitive moves. New arrivals and older friends—most notably a possessive figure named Marius—stir the pot and push relationships toward resolution.
What critics and viewers said
The season divided opinion even as it climbed Netflix’s charts to the top slot. Some reviewers praised the series’ charm and emotional moments, while others labelled it chaotic or uneven. Aggregated scores showed critics tending to be kinder than general viewers, and many responses highlighted that, despite structural flaws, the show remained an entertaining, bubblegum take on teen romance. Commentators also flagged issues like crowded plotting and occasional sidelining of secondary characters.
Representation and cultural context
One of the show’s most widely noted achievements is its commitment to visible queer representation. Alongside Kitty’s bisexual journey, the series features gay and lesbian characters such as Q and Yuri, and even minor arcs culminate in meaningful, affirmative moments. This inclusivity stands out in both Korean media and Western teen drama traditions, and it matters particularly given ongoing legal and societal debates about LGBTQ+ rights in Korea. For many viewers, seeing multiple same-sex relationships treated with care and given happy or hopeful outcomes is a rare and welcome choice.
Balancing flaws and legacy
The third season’s ambition—trying to wrap dozens of plotlines while preserving emotional payoff—left some moments feeling rushed or less poignant than earlier episodes. Critics pointed to occasional cartoonish antagonism and an uneven distribution of screen time; supporters countered that the series’ heart and representation outweighed those faults. Ultimately, the cast’s performances, from Anna Cathcart’s central turn to the nuanced portrayals by Regan Aliyah, Gia Kim and Sasha Bhasin, ensure the show departs with a memorable, if imperfect, farewell.
Whether viewers loved or mocked its more cringeworthy bits, XO, Kitty ends as a show that punched above its weight on representation and left a clear impression: a teen rom-com willing to put queer women at the center of its storytelling, and one that gave those characters room to grow, hurt and, in many cases, find happiness.