Production begins in a sterile LA warehouse decorated with fake palm trees and neon lights—a nightmare caricature of the '90s. The other women are a gallery of wounds: a former supermodel with a pill habit, a dancer who broke her back on set, a woman now working retail. The show forces them to re-enact humiliating moments for "nostalgia."

The Velvet Glove

"You want entertainment?" she says, calm as ice. "I'll give you entertainment."

Zora, haunted by overdue bills and a desire to pay for Kiana's film school debt, signs.