No one in the village really thought about Trollstice in the twenty-odd years since their escape. Or rather, it had stopped being a dreaded anniversary of suffering and become a celebration. No longer Trollstice, but Freedom Day. Or Escape Day, or Liberation Day. They never really settled on one name. The adults still told the kids the history behind it, but it was hardly the first thing on any of their minds.

With the influx of trolls from the Putt-Putt rejoining the others, this was no longer true for everyone. Most were so happy to see their friends and loved ones again that it was easy to see it as a true holiday the way the villagers did. Others, despite embracing (or at least tolerating) the peace between Trolls and Bergens, were wary of celebrating it. Which meant, in addition to her regular planning duties, Poppy had to make the party great enough to convince them.

That would explain why she was so nervous while she and her friends were setting up. She tried to smile through it, but it looked more like the grimace of a person about ready to explode.

Branch was helping to decorate – partly to keep an eye on how she was doing, and partly to put off rehearsing with his brothers. BroZone was slated to perform tonight for a dose of nostalgia, and as much as they loved having the band back together, John Dory could still get carried away before a big performance. Branch finished stapling a banner to a post and walked over to where she stood conferring with Biggie.

"I understand that," Biggie was saying. "But what's to keep people from moshing outside the designated pit?"

She puffed. "You're right. We need more signage."

"On it," said Biggie. He pulled a marker and glitter glue out of his pockets and marched off.

Poppy jotted something down on her clipboard, and her ears perked up when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Checkpoint?" asked Branch. It was a code they'd started using soon after Mount Rageous. If one of them seemed to be upset or overwhelmed, the other would offer them a moment to pause everything else and let it out. If it didn't solve every problem, it at least kept them more or less on the same page.

Poppy nodded. "Checkpoint," she said.

"You know," said Branch. "You have a lot of help here. I think you can ease up a little."

"Oh, setting up is the easy part," said Poppy. "The hard part is making all the Putt-Putt Trolls feel safe at a Trollstice party."

"You're not calling it that, are you?"

"Of course not! But it doesn't matter what we call it. That's pretty much what it is, and I can't cancel it because the Pop Trolls are expecting it, and I can barely keep up with all of Clay's safety precautions." She peered down at her clipboard. "What even is a 'sprinkle system'? Like, yeah, it sounds amazing, but how does that work? And how do I implement it in the next few hours?"

Branch looked over at the notes on her clipboard. "Yeah, that's 'sprinkler system.' Different thing. Also a tall order on short notice."

"Ugh! This is exactly what I mean! Plus, I have to worry about Viva all night. She's acting excited, but I just know she's dreading it."

"Then she should stay home."

"She should, but she won't, because she's insisting that everything's fine and she really wants to go."

"I don't know," Branch said pensively. "Maybe she does."

"I hope so, but she's been doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

"You know, the thing where she's obviously sad, or mad, or scared, or something, but she won't just say what's wrong."

"Doesn't seem like something you can solve in a few hours."

She sighed. "I know. I also can't fix my impulse to try to fix everything for everyone all the time. It's like my brain's on overdrive today."

"Yeah," said Branch, rocking back and forth on his feet. "I've got some stuff on my mind too." His hand brushed the outside of his pocket where a wrapped rectangular box was hidden.

Poppy wrote a few more bulletpoints in her notes as he spoke, then looked back up at him. "Like how today is also our six-month anniversary?"

"Yeah, no, yeah," he said.

"And how we can't actually celebrate it because I'm busy with queen stuff again?"

"Whoa, whoa." He took her hands and smiled gently. "Hey, I get it. This is just something you have to do."

"I know, but when's the last time we even had an actual date? Between planning Bridget's wedding, and then finding your brothers, and Viva, and getting everyone settled…"

"Poppy —"

"...And going back and forth between here and Vacay Island for all the kids' birthdays, and the diplomatic missions to Volcano Rock City, and Symphonyville, and Lonesome Flatts, and Vibe City, and all the concerts, and the parties, and the holidays – why do we have so many holidays?" She gasped. "I can't believe I just said that. What am I turning into?"

"Poppy, breathe."

She took a slow, deep breath.

"You don't need to stress about all that, too," said Branch. "I just wanted to acknowledge it, that's all. Didn't want you to think I forgot."

"You're not upset?"

"No! I'm busy tonight too. Plus, technically, it's not even an anniversary. It's more like…I don't know, a biann—"

Poppy lit up. "A semi-versary?"

Branch chuckled. "Sure. Look, we'll celebrate it another day. I don't want everyone to miss out on one of your parties."

Poppy grinned and hugged him tight. "I promise we'll do something together tomorrow," she said. "I already have like, a billion ideas. I can narrow them down after the party." She let him go, flipped to a clean page and started scribbling.

"Just promise you'll sleep at some point?"

"You know I can't promise that."

"Worth a shot," he said. "I should get to rehearsal. JD's probably gonna try to rearrange the entire setlist again."

"Go rein him in," said Poppy. "We've got things handled over here."

"You sure?"

She shrugged. "Eh, for now."

He started to walk off. "Okay, see you tonight."

"See you tonight," she called as he got farther away. "Oh, hey Branch?"

"Yeah?" he called back.

She pointed at him with her pen. "You're crushing it at this 'boyfriend' thing."

He smiled and kept walking before anyone else could see him blushing.

Watching Viva at work on someone's face or hair was like watching someone defuse an explosive. She worked fast, but every move was meticulously thought out. She could experiment, but nothing was accidental. Except for whatever she knocked off of Poppy's vanity while reaching for the next brush or color to use.

"Almost done," she said as she finished sticking some gold glitter over Poppy's eyes. She dusted off her hands and threw them up victoriously. "Oh my goodness, Poppy, you look so pretty! I mean, you always do, obviously, but look!"

They both squealed when Viva turned Poppy's chair around to face the mirror.

"I love it!" Poppy said with a wide grin.

"Hold on," said Viva. "We have to take a picture." The camera sat on the desk, surrounded by open pots of colored gels and makeup brushes strewn all over. As she rushed to grab it she knocked something onto the floor.

"Oop, sorry." She leaned down to pick it up and noticed it was some kind of box wrapped in shiny blue paper. She furrowed her brow as she stood up and showed it to Poppy. "What is this?"

Poppy tilted her head. "I don't know. Let me see." Viva handed it to her and she looked it over to see a messy but valiant effort at wrapping.

Viva scanned the floor and saw a slip of paper with something written on it. She picked it up and read out loud:

We can celebrate whenever, but I couldn't really wait to give this to you.

Love, Branch

Poppy raised her eyebrows.

Viva dropped the note and put her hands up to her cheeks. "Aaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwww! Open it, open it!"

Poppy unwrapped the gift with a tentative smile. She undid the tiny metal latch on the box to find a bracelet, colorful charms dangling from a gold chain. Her jaw dropped.

Viva gasped. "Oh my gosh, it's so pretty! It's your color and everything!"

Poppy's face softened as she took a better look at the charms. Cupcake, rainbow, cupcake...

"What's on it?" Viva asked.

"It's all cupcakes and rainbows," Poppy said, not looking up from it.

"Agh! Okay," said Viva. "This is so cute I think I'm gonna die. I'm just gonna keel over right here. I didn't know Freedom Day was a gift-giving thing!"

She looked up sheepishly. "Oh. Um, it's not."

"Wait, then —"

Poppy explained.

Viva's eyes widened. "And you're both working?!"

Poppy closed the box and put a hand on her chest. "I'm the queen, Vive. I can't always do what I want."

"You don't even want to go to this party?"

"It's my job! I have to make sure everything is amazing!"

"You can let Dad take over for the night!"

"No, I…I should be there tonight."

"Why?"

"Because I know what this day means to you."

Viva frowned and folded her arms.

"I barely remember it, and I really wish I could just snap my fingers and make it so you didn't have to go through all of that."

It was silent for a moment.

"But I can't," said Poppy, rubbing her upper arm. "So I thought I could at least look out for you now."

Viva smiled and put a hand on Poppy's shoulder, looking her in the eye. "You don't have to worry about me, Poppy."

Poppy opened her mouth to speak, but Viva continued.

"I know it took me a while to really feel safe here, but you made this my home. You, and Dad, and all your friends who I think still get us mixed up most of the time."

Poppy lowered her hand and let out a small laugh.

"I really am excited for tonight, I promise. And if I really can't handle it, I can leave," said Viva. "Or I'll stay at the sundae bar all night. That was a good touch. I've been thinking about it all day."

"Branch is performing tonight anyway."

"Please," Viva said with a smirk. "We can take care of that."

Poppy opened the box again and looked down at the bracelet. She clasped it around her wrist and looked up. "I have an idea."

"Lead the way, Your Majesty."

"I told you I can't sing these lyrics anymore, JD," Bruce said, gesturing to the stack of sheet music in the eldest brother's hand. "My kids are out there!"

John Dory groaned. "I've revised the old song like fifteen times already! Your kids aren't gonna be traumatized from hearing you sing about kissing!

"It's the subtext!"

"Subtext?! The new lyrics sound like they were written by an eight-year-old! You'd really rather sing this?"

Clay cut in, having just finished spraying Branch's hair to give him frosted tips. "Let me take a look. I have an eye for hidden meanings."

The other two rolled their eyes, but JD acquiesced and handed him the sheet music.

Clay read it under his breath. "Hands all over – Oh, yeah, no. You can't sing this in front of your kids."

Bruce nodded.

"Oh, come on," said JD. "We had Branch sing worse stuff than that when he was a baby !"

Branch had ignored them up to this point and kept on warming up his voice, but he stopped now to give JD the same look as his other three brothers.

JD froze for a second, then nodded. "Yeah, let's cut the song."

Floyd smiled and shook his head. "How many does that leave us with?"

JD flipped through the rest of the sheet music in his hands. "Let's see. 'Girl Baby Girl', 'All the Girls', 'Never Enough Girls', 'Watch Me Work'...We have fifteen."

Branch furrowed his brow. "What did you just say?"

"I said we have fifteen on the setlist. Not counting the medleys"

"No," said Branch. "What was that last song?" He walked over to JD and took the stack of paper from him.

Floyd's eyes widened. Bruce and Clay shared a concerned look. Branch flipped through the pages and glared at JD when he found the offending title.

"Why do you have this?"

JD looked back at him with confusion. "It's Floyd's solo. The acoustic one."

Branch dropped all of the music on the floor. "What?!"

"That is not cool, John," said Clay.

"That's sick," said Bruce. "Not in the good way."

JD gaped at them, then at Floyd. "You didn't tell them?"

Floyd sighed. "I wasn't sure if I was actually gonna go through with it."

Branch put his arms up in frustration. "Why would you ask him to sing this? In what world would you–"

"It was my idea," Floyd said abruptly.

They all turned to look at him.

"I did the arrangement myself. I changed some of the lyrics, and JD tried to talk me out of it, but I got him to add it to the set."

Branch furrowed his brow and turned back to JD. "You tried to talk him out of it?"

"I – I dunno, I worry about you guys," said JD. "Floyd had the whole diamond thing, Bruce never gets enough sleep, Clay's always crying…"

"It's catharsis," Clay pointed out. "I'm probably the most stable out of any of us."

JD slumped his shoulders. "Yeah, thanks. We're all super happy for you."

"Really," said Clay. "I just finished this book about confronting trauma; you guys should read it." The others groaned as he backed out of the dressing room to get it.

Branch handed the music back to JD. "Sorry."

"Eh," said JD. "Kinda does sound like something I'd do."

"No," said Floyd. "Well, a long time ago, maybe."

Branch shook his head slightly. "I still don't get it. Floyd, I thought you never even wanted to think about that song again."

"I didn't, for a while. But when we booked this party, it got me thinking. You know, everybody calls today something different. 'Escape Day', 'Freedom Day', 'Tunnel Day'..."

"That one's weird," said Bruce. Branch nodded.

"Everyone gives it their own meaning. And I figured, if somebody used my talent to write this song, then I can do whatever I want with it. I can make it belong to me."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Floyd's Version. I respect that."

Branch managed a smile. "Me too."

JD was silent, but when Branch looked, his eyes were welling up.

Branch raised an eyebrow. "Uh, John Dory, you okay?"

"Yeah, I just…" He mumbled something about kinda-sorta-maybe being proud of his brothers, then cleared his throat. "Clay's been gone awhile, huh?"

Just then, the door opened and he strolled back in, no book to be seen. "Can't find it. Know what, I think I left it in my pod. Branch, why don't you go take a look for me?"

Branch blinked. "What? The party's in like an hour; you don't need a book right now!"

"Oh, I do. Clearly we all still have a lot of unaddressed issues and we need guidance."

"We need guidance right before we go onstage?!"

Clay nudged Bruce in the arm. Bruce looked equally confused, but went with it. "Yeah, we, uh...should deal with this sooner than later."

"So why do I have to go get it?"

"Because…"

"Because," said Clay. "You're the…youngest, and most…agile."

Branch stared at them for a second. "That's – what?" They didn't budge, and he sighed. "Alright, fine. I'll get your trauma book." He walked out, shaking his head to himself.

Once Branch's footsteps had dissipated, Clay pointed at JD. "Get a pencil. You gotta give all of Branch's parts to one of us."

"Okay, I'm the oldest and the least agile, so I'm not doing anything until you explain."

Just then, Viva crashed through a vent onto the floor and stood up looking determined. "You'll be down a tenor tonight. Make some changes."

JD just looked at her for a moment, eyes wide, then yelled, "Why were you in the ceiling?!"

"She caught me down the hall and filled me in," said Clay. "Branch can't go on with us."

"What, is he dying? Is Branch dying and nobody told me? What is going on?"

"It's his six-month anniversary with Poppy," Clay finally explained. "We're gonna help them out."

"That's not technically an anniversary," said JD.

"Why didn't he say anything?" Floyd asked.

"Did he forget?" said Bruce. "He is so screwed if he forgot."

"Nobody forgot," said Viva. "They've been too busy worrying about all of us."

The guys frowned.

"We're making it up to them," she said, then reached into her hair, pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Bruce. "Bruce, Floyd, you two get everything on this list and take it down to the bunker. There's a surprise element here, so if he sees you, make something up. Clay, keep him distracted when he gets back. John Dory, do whatever you gotta do to make it work without him. Start the show by yourself if you have to."

"Whoa, whoa," said JD. "Look, I'm sorry about the scheduling conflict, but we go on in less than an hour. We don't have time for this." He put his hands out and gestured to his brothers.

Bruce pointed at him emphatically. "You don't make a man work on his semi-versary."

JD pointed right back. "That's not a word. Don't try to confuse me!"

Floyd put his hand on JD's shoulder. "John," he said. "If this is important to Branch, then it's important."

"We owe him," said Clay.

JD furrowed his brow, then nodded. "We'll make time."

Branch walked out of Clay's pod empty-handed and irritated. If ever he could use a checkpoint, it was now. But he had an audience to please, and when he got back to rehearsal he was determined not to add to whatever bizarre force had taken over his brother.

Or brothers, seeing how on his way back he came across Bruce and Floyd poring over a piece of paper with curious looks on their faces. Floyd had a roll of white fabric under his arm, and Bruce had a bag of something Branch couldn't quite see.

"What are you guys doing out here?"

They jumped at the sound of his voice, but Bruce quickly played it off, whatever "it" was.

"Branch!" he said casually. "Couldn't find the trauma book, huh? Well, at least you got some fresh air."

"Why aren't you at rehearsal?"

"John Dory sent us to get some stuff for the show," said Floyd. Bruce nodded quickly.

"What stuff?"

"Uh…" Bruce pointed to the fabric Floyd was holding. "A curtain." He held up the bag in his hand. "And lights."

Branch narrowed his eyes at them. "All that stuff is already set up. We just did the lighting check."

"He wanted better ones," said Bruce. "You know him. He…he sucks."

Floyd gave him a disapproving look.

"You know," said Bruce. "Sometimes."

"Sure," said Branch, starting to walk past them. "Look, today's been a little frustrating for me, so can we just go back and get the show over with?"

"We hear you, man," said Floyd.

"Yeah, go on ahead," Bruce called after him. "We'll be right behind you."

If they were, Branch couldn't tell. They were nowhere to be seen when he got back to the dressing room. JD was, expectedly, still looking over all the music, jotting down notes, erasing them, jotting down something else. Clay was doing stretches in the middle of the floor.

"Branch!" Clay said when he walked in. "You're back. Awesome. Let's get stretching."

Branch sighed. "Okay, sure. Hey, I couldn't find your book."

"Ah, man, I must've lost it. New trauma. I'll have to confront that later."

Branch rolled his eyes, but said nothing and followed Clay's lead with their warm-ups.

Another half hour passed with no sign of their two missing brothers, but Clay and JD didn't seem pressed. JD finished whatever he was doing to the sheet music. Clay kept right on with the exercises, but Branch finally stopped.

"I think we're all warmed up, Clay," he said breathlessly.

Clay quickly stopped as well. "Sure bro, but if you pull a hamstring out there, take it up with somebody else."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks. Hey, JD?"

JD dropped a paperweight on top of all the hopefully finalized sheet music. "Yup?"

"Floyd and Bruce got the stuff you asked for, and they're still not back."

JD's eyes widened. "Right, the stuff I asked for. Oof, yeah, that's not good. Need that stuff." He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously, then pointed to Branch and Clay. "I'll go look for them. You two hang out here."

Branch tried to protest, "Wait, but —"

Just then, they appeared in the doorway looking oddly nonchalant.

"Everything ready?" JD asked quietly.

"Everything 'cept him," said Bruce. Clay heard this and promptly ruffled Branch's hair, defrosting his tips and confounding him further.

"He's good," said Clay.

JD let out a sigh of relief. "Good. If I went out there by myself I would've bombed so fast."

Branch groaned. "Can you all stop being so weird and cagey? What have you even been doing this whole time?"

"Know what, I just remembered," said Clay. "I left the book in your bunker. You'll have to run down there and get it."

Branch was utterly and unconcealably exasperated. "What?!"

Branch descended the elevator down into the bunker and began to contemplate staying down there for the night, leaving his brothers to fumble through the set without him. But then, who knew? They may have forgotten they even had a gig and gone on some other nonsensical errand.

As he got closer to the bottom, he started to hear music. The strumming of a ukulele and lyrics he couldn't quite make out through the layers of earth. He started to wonder if he'd left his radio on when he got close enough to hear it clearly.

Boy, I hear you in my dreams

I feel your whisper across the sea

He recognized Poppy's voice only a split-second before the elevator landed and he saw her. She smiled and played her song in front of a small circular table set with a white cloth and colorful bowls of different snacks that he recognized as a sampling of the ones that had been prepared for the party. The soft lights on the table and on the walls reflected off of the flecks of gold on her face.

I keep you with me in my heart

You make it easier when life gets hard

He still didn't fully understand, but a smile started to form as he harmonized with her:

Lucky I'm in love with my best friend

Lucky to have been where I have been

Lucky to be comin' home again

His smile grew wider when he got closer and saw that she was wearing her bracelet. They finished vocalizing, and Poppy set down her instrument. She looked down and twisted her foot on the ground.

"I couldn't really wait either," she said, and bit her lip.

That was it. He rushed forward, lifted her up and spun her around as she yelped with laughter.

"Happy…whatever today is," she said, still laughing as he stopped turning and kissed her cheek. She'd seen the elation of his face for a brief moment and had to see it again, so she brushed her hand on his face to get him to look up at her. "I love you."

"I love you too," he said, and set her back down.

She kissed him before he could ask how any of this was done, but he could let her explain later.

They were too busy celebrating to worry about anything else.