Flight Attendant is a wild ride. Cassie, our flight attendant, wakes up next to a dead guy in a hotel room. Total nightmare, right? As she tries to remember what happened, she gets caught in lies and danger. Twists pop up everywhere. This show keeps you guessing, always wondering what’s next. You won’t want to blink or you might miss something!

Meet the characters from The Flight Attendant

Jenny

Oh Jenny, what a whirlwind — loud laugh, terrible timing, the kind of friend who will text you at 3 a.m. with a “trust me” and somehow be right. She’s impulsive but weirdly thoughtful? Like she’ll book a spontaneous trip and bring you a thermos of soup because she forgot your birthday and panics, bless her. There’s this chaotic energy about her, but also tiny rituals — always an orange notebook, always gum — so who knows. Honestly I can’t decide if she’s reckless or brave and I love that about her.

Dot Karlson

Dot is the sort of person who organizes other people’s lives and then forgets her own lunch in the office fridge (classic). Quietly observant, she notices things others miss — odd stains, a misplaced boarding pass, the exact phrasing someone uses — and she’ll never admit how worried she gets. She’s practical to a fault, with this secret soft spot for cheesy rom-coms and terrible puns, which is adorable and confusing. Also I swear she collects keychains? Or maybe that was last year, who knows.

Benjamin Berry

Benjamin is suavely mysterious, the “smooth-smile-with-a-hidden-past” archetype, like he was born wearing a leather jacket and a secret. He’s clever, a little emotionally guarded, but he has these sudden flashes of warmth — laughing too loudly at a dumb joke, rescuing a stray dog, whatever — that ruin the whole brooding vibe. He favors late-night diners and jazz records, but then he’ll surprise everyone by making a casserole, which is peak Benjamin and also makes no sense. Honestly, you want to trust him and you also probably shouldn’t and that tension is delicious.

Lisa Bowden

Lisa is practical, fiercely loyal, and low-drama unless someone crosses a line — then she becomes a tornado in sensible shoes. She’s the reliable one: pays bills on time, remembers everyone’s birthdays, gives brutal-but-loving advice, and will fold your sweater while silently judging your life choices. There’s a dry wit beneath the surface and a weird collection of novelty mugs she insists are “for morale.” Sometimes she’s unexpectedly reckless (like karaoke at 2 a.m.), which is both alarming and the best kind of plot twist.

Charlie Utada

Charlie is calm, a little enigmatic, and somehow both a good listener and very emotionally ambiguous — like talking to him is a cozy mystery. He’s the kind of person who could pilot a plane or fix your headphones and probably does both while humming a song you almost recognize. Likes: origami, bad puns, extra hot coffee. Dislikes: small talk but will somehow narrate your trauma in haiku form if prompted.

Marco

Marco is loud, flashy, and somehow also very sentimental — think flamboyant jacket, but cries at old family videos. He loves attention, flirts a lot, tells big stories (some of which are maybe true), and has a showman’s flair that makes him impossible to ignore. He’s competitive about everything — trivia, cocktails, who can hug longest — but then will knit you a scarf if you’re sad, which is confusingly sweet. Also has a soft spot for stray cats and terrible reality TV, and yes, he absolutely keeps a list of weird bar trivia in his phone.

Grace St. James

Grace is pure old-Hollywood glamour with a modern snark filter — dramatic, impeccably dressed, and suspiciously chipper about scandal. She dispenses etiquette advice like candy and will correct your posture while offering you a glass of something expensive; simultaneously she hoards gossip like it’s currency. She’s wonderfully contradictory: prim afternoon tea manners paired with a surprisingly filthy sense of humor, and she’ll adopt five poodles for emotional reasons and deny it forever. Honestly, she’s the deluxe chaos you didn’t know you needed.

Brenda

Brenda is the no-nonsense backbone everyone secretly relies on — blunt, efficient, and terrifying when she’s annoyed (which is often, but also fair). She organizes chaos like it’s a sport and has a filing system for feelings, which is both impressive and slightly terrifying. She hoards practical things — spare chargers, band-aids, receipts — yet will cry at commercials, which makes her human and slightly unpredictable. Bonus weird detail: she collects fridge magnets from places she’s never actually visited? Or maybe I’m remembering wrong, but it’s believable, right?