The Magic of Harmony

Fighting

When they were young John would have them practice for hours almost every day before a performance. For them it was a time to bond together as brothers. It used to be so much fun. It used to bring them closer together. Like trust exercises that let you know that the Trolls you love will be there to catch you. With how complicated some of the moves got, that wasn’t too far off the mark.

And John was always their number one cheerleader. Always there with encouraging words and hugs. Ready to celebrate every success and accomplishment. Cheering them on through everything, including things that weren’t boy band related.

Then somewhere along the way it stopped being fun.

Practice became work, a job the younger brothers begrudgingly went too. John's gentle encouragement to do their best turned into a constant pressure for perfection. Reasonable hours of practice lengthened to the point that at times it did more harm than good. Their bonds with each other weakened, none more so than with John. The trust between them wanned.

Then the fighting started.

John had come home with this legend of a perfect family harmony. It seemed like a fun goal for them all to work towards at first. Until the eldest became obsessed with it. He kept his brothers in these boxes, never letting them out to explore and understand the rest of their personalities. The longer it happened the more it irritated and infuriated the brothers. Leading to the fighting that would eventually break apart Brozone.

It seemed like for the first time in their lives John was actively ignoring them. He had always been so attentive till that point, it shocked them that suddenly he wouldn't. But having three teens, a tween, and a baby in the house, none of them knew how to fix this. How to go about relieving the tension and hurt feelings, how to talk things out.

Now, twenty years later, though they have learned and grown, hurt still has a way of pulling you back down. Anger has a way of blocking all senses of reason, only seeing what you want to see. It makes grown adults fight like they were children once again.

“And Branch, maybe a smaller diaper.” John said thoughtfully as he pondered the option.

“If this diaper was any smaller I could taste it.” Branch hissed at the eldest brother, his ears pinned back against his head. Poppy sent a sympathetic glance to her boyfriend.

“That’s why I don’t wear one of those.” Tiny told them from the front, turning around to look at them. Amusement laced his voice with each word. “It’s a hard fit to pull off.”

“Oh, very helpful note there, John Dory. Thanks.” Clay said mockingly, hands slow clapping to empathize the mock. His face quickly switched to anger and he jabbed a finger in John's direction. “Now here’s a creative note for you. Stop bossing us around!”

All his life Clay could remember John constantly telling them what to do and where to go. They always had to be here at a certain time. Or they had to do this before they could go out and play. John would asinine them chores to complete and dish out punishments when they were in trouble.

Groundings, time outs, standing against the wall, taking away toys if he was particularly bad. The one he hated the most was having to sit on top of the fridge. Its absurdity pissed him off more than anything else about the punishment.

“Clay! You’re in trouble! Stop arguing with me!” John growled at the younger kid. At eight the younger kid was still loud and rambunctious. “You can’t hide dead snails in your classmates' locker! It’s wrong, it’s gross, and it terrified the girl.”

“She deserved it! Why are you defending her! Why are you always on me?!” Clay shouted at his eldest brother. The classmate he pranked had been mean to another one of the kids in his class. He was only getting her back for them.