Like a clingy ex holding out hope for a reunion, “Adults” is desperate to show you it’s changed — for the better, and quite possibly for good. The FX comedy (streaming on Hulu and airing on FXX) didn’t transform so totally between its first and second seasons you’ll question what brand new show just slid into your viewing queue; it merely evolved enough to convince you the bad times are a thing of the past, and the good times of the present never have to end.

That’s both expected (for ensemble comedies, if not TV in general) and a notable feat, considering its initial impression. Created by Ben Kronengold and Rebecca Shaw, “Adults” — a Gen-Z “Friends” minus one friend and plus people of color — debuted to mixed reviews and cultural apathy. Critical consensus puts the first season somewhere between Hulu’s D.O.A. “Not Suitable for Work” (53 rating on Metacritic) and Amazon’s slightly buzzier “Overcompensating” (72). Whatever viewership it tallied wasn’t impressive enough to be included in the renewal announcement.

Dig deeper and there are cracks in the sitcom’s foundational elements, i.e. perspective and characters. “I always thought the world was going to be waiting for me, and instead, they’re just annoyed that I’m here” is about as close as “Adults” gets to a take on twenty-something malaise in 2026. That’s OK — hang-out comedies don’t have to be about anything urgent — but they do need to be inviting, and Season 1 is rarely that.

Take the man behind the quote, Samir (Malik Elassal), who’s introduced as an aspiring FinTech bro in the middle of making amends for sleeping with a woman who was too drunk to consent. Yee-ikes! Then there’s Billie (Lucy Freyer), who threatens her boss with a (fake) sexual harassment claim in a misguided attempt to climb the ladder. Double yikes! And these two are our “will they or won’t they” couple! Who’s rooting for them? Who’s even eager to hang out with them?

Hence, changes. Season 2’s biggest swerve is also the easiest to overlook. At the end of July, “Adults” released a standalone episode with a proper origin story for our familial five-some. Origin story? Standalone episode? After a bad first season? That’s right, they made a new pilot! Hulu even lists “Marathon Day” as the first episode of Season 1, bumping the former premiere (“The Window”) to an inconspicuous Episode 2. Of course, that means anyone who logs in to watch Season 2 will have to scroll back to the beginning of a season they think they’ve already watched to find one of the new episodes (and many more may watch “all” of “Adults” without ever realizing there’s one more episode, lurking right where they started). But hey, “Marathon Day” isn’t for the devout; it’s to convert the dubious.

Does it work? Kind of. In explaining how Paul Baker (Jack Innanen) joins the group, “Marathon Day” effectively reorients the ensemble around a new focal point (Paul Baker) while providing the series a fresh (albeit broad) thesis statement: True friends can save you when you can’t save yourself. That’s good! That’s smart! That’s comforting!

But while the new pilot is a step up from the old pilot, it’s inconsistent with its character logic and light on laughs. Too often in Season 1, storylines chase the edgiest angle without considering the consequences for its characters. Samir’s original introduction aims for laughs about what it’s like to be single after coming-of-age during #MeToo, but in doing so, it labels one of the series regulars as dumb, sketchy, and narcissistic, which doesn’t line up with the rest of his depiction.

Billie’s false sexual harassment claim runs into similar issues, as does her arc in the new pilot, when she betrays her principled stand — honesty is always the best policy — to help Anton (Owen Thiele) avoid getting caught in a lie. Her elaborate assistance could work as a testament to how far real friends will go for each other, but not when she’s also lying about her job title to impress people (and secure preferential treatment at her beloved office supply shop). She’s selfless and selfish! She’s all over the map! Just tell me who these people are so I can laugh with them!

To its credit, “Adults” started course-correcting before the first season wrapped. Where the original pilot saw its characters struggling to accept that being the victim of horrific abuse doesn’t equate to being a good person, the second-to-last episode, “Annabelle,” forces them to face the same perceived incongruity when Paul Baker and Anton look after a young woman visiting New York for access to essential health care… and she quickly reveals herself to be an ungrateful hellcat. The two men go out of their way to meet her acidic insults with instructive kindness, but in forcing them to see her beyond the stereotype of a helpless no-nothing from the sticks, Annabelle (Lilah Guaragna) drags “Adults” to its deepest connections and heartiest laughs yet.

Season 2 nearly wipes out trying to ride that wave. The first scene sees Issa (Amita Rao) so overwhelmed with excitement, she extends a long take by breaking the fourth wall. (“It’s Season 2, Paul Baker. We’re doing a oner.”) There’s a recurring joke where one character references a movie no one has seen (including the referencer), and the episode — which is all about erasing or coming to terms with embarrassing secrets they’ve since outgrown — ends with footage of the cast’s own semi-embarrassing videos, as a gag reel-esque shortcut to connect with the audience.

Does it matter that the videos fall well short of anything as shame-inducing as what their characters reveal? Or that characters shout meta filmmaking terms while reveling in a shared ignorance of some of the most popular movies ever made? Or that the joke the oner builds to makes no sense? Not really. The premiere is in kitchen-sink mode, throwing everything it can at the audience to convince them it’s worth sticking around.

And it is! Turns out “Adults” didn’t need to shoot a new pilot because the Season 2 premiere serves the same function, only better. The blind confidence in every joke, coherence be damned, actually works to 201’s advantage once the A-story sets in: Paul Baker has a secret. The sensitive, sweet, bisexual himbo is also a loud, agro, straight-coded bro — how he presents just depends on who he’s with. So when Paul Baker’s chill, “adult” friend group comes face to painted-ass with Baker’s roaming gang of frat-like freaks, a chaotic war to identify the one true Paul ensues. (Naturally, the two crews try to mingle, and naturally, it goes badly.)

Not only does “The Scrub” explicitly ask us to question what we think we know about these characters, it also shrewdly juxtaposes the core five-some against a truly obnoxious horde of man-babies. Similar complaints were levied against the main ensemble in Season 1, when their arrested development and self-centeredness soured the chill hang. But to start Season 2, there’s a gaggle of guys who rate each other’s shits, smack each other’s balls, and howl uncontrollably at the sight of six-pack. They can’t even feign maturity for the length of a lunch without giving into their solipsistic cravings. The message is clear: These guys suck, which by comparison, makes our protagonists look pretty fun.

Briefly combining the friend groups makes for a rollicking start, and Season 2 keeps spirits high by leaning on a stockpile of sitcom tropes. After a lore-building dump of their dark secrets, Billie pretends not to freak out over getting older, Anton really freaks out when his sister refuses to see him as a grown-up, Issa gets a new job, everyone switches rooms, and everyone might get evicted! Toss in a clever subversion of the drug-trip episode (with a real-time ticking clock counting down until the acid hits), and “Adults” finds its groove in the comforting embrace of classic comedy concepts. Rather than reaching for topical talking points, it thrives within relatable, time-tested conventions.

Better still is how the season handles its love triangle. At the end of Season 1, Issa agrees to marry Paul Baker in order to keep him from getting deported. But when she gets cold feet, Paul Baker has to pick one of the other three housemates — and he chooses Anton. That would be all well and good (everyone loves Anton), except for their low-key flirting (throughout the back half of the season) and high-key kiss (in front of everyone, post-nuptials, at their friends’ urging). Now, in Season 2, Issa is on the lookout for signs that her boyfriend is crushing on another housemate, while Anton and Paul Baker keep a watchful eye on one another, as much to quell further flirtation as to savor it.

How Kronengold and Shaw navigate the relatively fresh waters of a sexually fluid friend group proves to be one of the series’ strongest attributes, in part because they don’t over-emphasize or over-complicate the raw human emotions driving the romance. They give each character ample room to be understood, by the audience even more than each other, and they edge the relationships forward within the sturdy structure of a laugh-first sitcom. Thiele remains the stand-out actor (he’s completely dialed in), and Innanen is innately affable (or very, very good at playing innocent without slipping into stupidity), which makes putting the pair at the show’s center a crucial, rewarding adjustment.

Perhaps all “Adults” needed was time — eight episodes is a tight timeframe to hone a hang-out comedy, especially when remembering past versions (“Friends,” “Seinfeld,” “New Girl”) got thrice as many episodes in a single season. If so, Season 3 is on pace to be an all-timer. “Adults” is a show about finding yourself in your twenties, and in Season 1, it felt like it. Too many brash blunders led to too much spoiled fun. But Season 2 clocks the fitful maturation process without mirroring as many of its youthful mistakes.

That’s the nice thing about TV when it’s made the right way: Change isn’t just real. It’s expected.

Grade: B

“Adults” Season 2 premieres Thursday, August 27 at 9 p.m. ET on Hulu and FXX. All episodes will be released at once on Hulu and air weekly on FXX (with two episodes the first week and single episodes thereafter.)