When Sirens first kicked off, it looked like your standard messy boss-employee dynamic. Michaela (played by Julianne Moore) was the sharp, confident cult-leader-type who probably hasn't poured her own oat milk since 2014. Simone (played by Milly Alcock) was the baby-faced assistant who looked like she might cry if her notification pinged too loudly, disturbing her boss. Classic setup. We've seen it before.
And then Michaela passed Simone her chewed gum.
That was the moment we should’ve known we weren’t in a workplace drama—we were in an identity thriller with a side of psychological horror and a tiny splash of spit.
From that moment, things spiraled into territory no HR department could ever handle.
Simone didn’t just admire Michaela—she absorbed her. The show, in its sneaky, brilliant way, foreshadowed it all along.
From the start, they were framed as mirror images—walking in sync, wearing similar clothes, sleeping with each other on the same bed.
It was subtle at first. Simone would echo a phrase. Then it got weird. The same terrifying calm under pressure.
And then came the deeper, darker overlap: they didn’t just share gum and glances—they shared a past. Both Simone and Michaela lost their mothers young. Both had to fend for themselves, build emotional armor, and learn how to survive in spaces that weren’t made for softness.
The more we get to know Simone, the more we understand Michaela. It’s literally Michaela’s story being played out again—but this time, in the body of someone younger.
By the end of the show, that transformation is complete. Simone has the posture. The calm. The voice. And—chillingly—the hair.
Gone are her soft curls; replaced by poker-straight strands just like Michaela’s. It’s a quiet but undeniable visual cue: she’s not becoming Michaela. She is Michaela now.
And that’s the thing. Sirens wasn’t just telling us this would happen, it was showing us. The camera lingered a little too long on Simone watching Michaela. The three backup girls started treating Simone like a new version of their queen bee.
Simone’s voice dropped a register. Her posture shifted. She didn’t blink so much. You could almost hear Michaela’s influence taking root in real time.
Even the clothes were doing heavy lifting. Devon first arrived on the island dressed in black, while everyone else looked like literal “Easter eggs”. The pastel palette wasn’t just a vibe—it was the cult uniform. But by the final episode, Michaela is the one leaving in head-to-toe black.
And Simone? She’s wearing the dress Michaela picked out for her. In Michaela’s style. To Michaela’s event. Surrounded by Michaela’s people. That wasn’t just a moment. That was the handover ceremony.
And let’s not ignore the full-circle poetic horror of it all: Michaela did to Peter’s wife exactly what Simone ends up doing to her. She stepped into another woman’s life and made herself indispensable, until she wasn’t.
By the time the final twist hits, it doesn’t feel like a twist at all. It feels inevitable. Michaela’s obsession with control blinded her to the one person quietly rehearsing her lines, stealing her cues, and waiting in the wings.
So was it love? Was it ambition? Was it trauma bonding wrapped in wellness-speak and expensive wardrobes? Honestly…yes. All of it.
That’s what makes Sirens so quietly terrifying. The show doesn’t scream its warnings—it whispers them. And if you’re not paying attention, you miss the moment a woman stops being herself and starts becoming someone else.