Stella's POV
"Get back here!" Louis yelled, chasing me through the backstage area. Oh God, oh God, oh God, what do I do? This place was a total maze, I didn't know how to get away from him, especially now that Peter confiscated my web shooter. Seriously, you claim to be Spider-Man one time in front of Spider-Man and now all of a sudden you're running for your life with no escape route. I couldn't even defend myself. If I shot Louis it wouldn't count, he wasn't my target. I did know one thing, however. He didn't have a gun. When I saw him standing over Zak he had nothing in his hands. I did have a gun however, and I knew once Louis caught me he'd take it from me and shoot me with it unless...
"What are you doing?!" Louis yelled, as I poured out the contents of my water gun on the cement floor as we ran.
"Careful Louis, wouldn't want you to fall!" I called back. "We Tomlinsons have brittle bones!"
"That's it, come here, brat!" He exclaimed, then I felt his hand on my shirt. The force of him grabbing my shirt caused me to slip and we both tumbled to the ground.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Louis hissed. I sat up and crawled over to him.
"Louis, are you okay?" I asked. He was laying on his side, cradling his broken arm. If I knew one thing for sure, freak accidents when you already have a broken bone are never fun.
"Shit, we should..." I started, but then he reached up and grabbed my shirt collar.
"Gotcha." He smirked, sitting up. I winced, not sure what could come next. Maybe he had a small gun in his pocket. Maybe he was going to drag me through the water on the ground. Would that count? But he didn't. With one hand on my shirt collar he used his casted hand to reach for my Super Soaker on the ground. He couldn't grip it.
"Motherfucker." He hissed. He loosened his grip a tiny bit like he was considering letting go of me, and I pulled away, trying to run. His grip tightened again before I could get out of it. He kept trying to grip the Super Soaker to no avail.
"Are we just gonna sit here forever or..." I asked. He looked at me. He looked at his hand on my shirt collar. Then he looked back at the gun. Then back at me once more. He knew he couldn't grip the gun with his casted hand. He knew if he tried to get it with his non-casted hand I'd run, and the Super Soaker had been dumped out so it wasn't even worth the risk. Whatever water remained in the gun wouldn't have enough pressure to reach me if I ran away.
"New plan." He decided, shifting so he was on his knees. As he rose his grip on my shirt collar caused the shirt to fucking choke me, so I had to rise with him until we were standing.
"This is abuse." I told him.
"Call your cop friend." He responded, still gripping the shirt collar as he started walking.
"You're stretching out a perfectly good shirt." I complained.
"We have boxes on boxes of this shirt, you'll live." He responded. I didn't have a response for that, so I didn't say anything, trying to formulate how I was going to get myself out of this one.
"Nice that you're wearing my merch now though." Louis offered.
"Ava designed it, it's Ava merch." I replied.
"It says my name on it." He pointed out. He only had a tiny fraction of a point because yes his name technically was on it, but it was on the back and so small it was hardly noticeable. The front just said Faith in the Future World Tour on it in small font.
"I'm trying not to think about it, makes my skin crawl." I responded.
"Just admit you love me." He said.
