‘This Is Our Playoffs’: Fans Flooded a Brooklyn Bar for the Season…

When a contestant on Love Island USA gets dumped, kissed, or disrespected on screen, to some, it’s not just TV. It’s war. Or at least that’s why it felt like at FancyFree, a bar in Brooklyn, where hundreds of people gathered for the season finale Sunday night. Forget couch commentary—there was cheering, booing, and gasping in unison.

Yes, somehow, Love Island USA became the unofficial sport of the summer, with fans just as devoted and dramatic as any NBA or NFL obsessive.

“She won’t even let him finish talking,” one screamed when season seven’s villain, Huda, interrupted Chris mid-confession. Minutes later, the bar erupted in cheers when Nic and Olandria, better known as Nicolandria, shared a kiss. “That’s MY couple!” another fan bellowed, as if she had money riding on them.

The party at FancyFree wasn’t an anomaly. Across the country, bars and restaurants have been promoting their own Love Island watch nights all summer. Some were intimate, with fans squeezed into backrooms or patios. Others looked like full-on viewing arenas. And no one can resist going to one, including tennis star Coco Gauff.

It became routine. Groups of friends rolled into sports bars, often for the first time, not to catch the Yankees losing to the Cubs or to watch the NBA summer league, but to grab a seat for Love Island before the space filled up.

Couples became the teams people rooted for. Fans mourned their faves leaving the island like they got knocked out of the semifinals. You pivoted alliances not out of love but strategy—anything to make sure the couple you hate (Huda and Chris, to loads at FancyFree) didn’t win.

At Sunday’s finale, the vibe was electric. Even in sticky July humidity, crowds squeezed into the bar. The moment the season recap began, the room was locked in: laughter, groans, applause, scattered boos for controversial couple Iris and Pepe. Girlfriends huddled to explain storylines to their confused boyfriends. Eye rolls, fist pumps, and prayer hands flew in equal measure. For many, the night was about watching not as an individual but as a collective.

@loonanextdoor this was in MY parlay 😹 her speech had me in tears amaya and bryan are perfect for eachother #amaya #amayaloveisland #loveislandusa #loveisland #fyp ♬ back to friends - sombr

“I used to think I was better than Love Island,” said Sania Lisa, who came to the party with her friend Emma Tyson. “I thought it would just rot my brain. And I'm not saying it doesn’t, but I think there's a lot more to it than people think. And it's been a really cool experience to watch it become a cultural phenomenon.”

Love Island USA has gone from guilty pleasure to must-see tv because it manages to scratch a much deeper itch: the desire to see our own messy humanity play out in real time.

@anya.tisdale PAPAYA NATION WE’RE UP TEN BILLIONNNNNN #loveisland #loveislandusa @Huda Beauty ♬ original sound - anya ✩*ೃ.⋆

“It taps into real-life moments where people felt hurt or embarrassed, or they acted in a way they didn’t want to act,” Lisa said. “Like with Friday’s episode, I was devastated to see Ace and Chelly go, because I went through so many ups and downs throughout the season, of hating them, liking them, hating them, thinking Ace is annoying, loving Ace, crying at things Ace says, being mad at things Ace says. And I feel like it was just, like, such a roller coaster, but it was like, that’s kind of what’s supposed to happen.”

That blend of cringe, catharsis, and community was a running theme among the night’s attendees.

Emma Tyson, another viewer at Fancy Free, likened the experience to the NBA playoffs. “We told our guy friends to switch off the playoffs game. We were like, this is our playoffs. You don’t understand, I’m invested.”

Tyson’s loyalty ran deep, especially for eventual winner Amaya. “I’d give the money to Amaya by herself. She’s put in so much. The rest of these couples are just out of convenience. Huda and Chris? Convenience. Iris and Pepe? They say the had eyes for each other when they initially came in. Bullshit. And they’re boring. Sorry. Nick and Olandria don't even know that the internet has made a meme of them, but they keep playing to it. It just doesn't feel real to me.”

And when Amaya was repeatedly criticized by the men she had been coupled up with, Emma wasn’t just annoyed—she was fired up. “I’ve definitely been there, where guys are like, ‘You’re too much, you’re overdramatic.’ So to see her go through that, yeah, I was yelling.”

“I thought ‘Love Island’ would just rot my brain. And I’m not saying it doesn’t, but I think there’s a lot more to it than people think.”

Sania Lisa

For others, the public viewing experience went beyond drama and became a way to connect.

“I’m a big fan of watch parties because I met these two ladies at one,” said Ashley Monroe, who had recently moved to New York, referring to the friends she was with. “I’ve been going to watch parties trying to make some friends. So these have been life-changing, low-key.”

While there’s a communal spirit in the air, watch party attendees also said they love the collective viewing experience just to engage in good old shit-talking.

“You get to say egregious things you’d never say in real life,” Lisa said, laughing. “But you also hear someone else say something about an outfit or a reaction, and you’re like, ‘I never thought of that—awesome!’”

Still, not everyone in the crowd was all in on the fandom.

“I think the fans have ruined this show,” said Felice Bristo. “People are sending death threats. And even though I don’t like everyone in the final four, I don’t think anyone deserves that for a reality TV show.”

At the tail end of the night, when winners Amaya and Bryan were crowned, the room at Fancy Free exploded like someone hit a buzzer-beater in overtime. There were hugs. Tears. Shouts of “We won!”

The kind of joy that usually only happens in arenas or at house parties after a Super Bowl win.

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