“If he says one more thing.” Justin muttered, his grip on my hand tightening with anger as we watched a paparazzi chase our car.

“Just ignore him.” I said, leaning in and trying to distract him with kisses. He wasn’t having it, he was angry and he needed to do something about it.

“Selena, Selena are the rumors of you going out-” The man yelled again, his voice somehow making it through the thick van doors.

“Thats it.” Justin spat, standing up and yelling at the driver to stop the car.

“Justin!” I called after him, tugging on his shirt. He looked back at me, frowned, and then jumped out to handle the situation.

I could see through the window that they were screaming at each other, and then all of the sudden Justin threw a punch out of no where. The second time his arms swung around, the photographer was knocked to the ground.

“Oh my god!” I squealed, getting out the car and pulling Justin away from the man.

A group of people had surround us and were now looking back and forth from Justin and the guy, unsure how to react. Justin’s face was red, and his hat was off sitting on the sidewalk. I reached down to grab it, just as Justin was taking off his shows to throw at the man.

“Stop.” I raised my voice, taking his hand and looking into his eyes. He lowered his hand, putting the shoe back on his foot.

Someone began yelling at Justin, and he began firing back. I walked up to the lady, told her to back off, and dragged Justin back to the car. We were just driving off when the paramedics that had apparently been called, showed up.

“Justin are you crazy?” I asked, turning to look at him.

He lowered his eyes to the van’s floor, saying “I might have over reacted.”

“Might?” I scoffed, “that was a nightmare!”

I ran my fingers through his hair to fix it, and he examined the bruise on his arm “I’m sorry.”

“You really can’t do stuff like that baby. We were supposed to have a calm day off.” 

“I know, I know.” He sighed, “You wanna go see the Dictator, drama free?”

“I don’t know Justin.” I giggled, “You think you can handle not beating up the popcorn guy when he doesn’t put enough butter on your popcorn?”

“I’ll try to contain myself.” He chuckled, leaning in and kissing me.