It smells heavenly, luscious, and fresh as if it were just plucked from the tree. It was a  Giant Ultra-Premium Honeycrisp apple. I don’t remember how I got in there, though it could have been from a bet on New Year's Eve.

I was listening to the Bee Gees singing Staying Alive,  the bar was getting rowdy, and soon, I’d be stretched out on a frame to be hung in effigy. From the corner of my good eye, an apple was sitting in the middle of the chaos.

Night Fever was pounding in the jukebox, and without another thought, I jumped in the middle of the stem where the peel would protect me. I’m surrounded by the most luscious aroma and overwhelmed by its fragrance.

I take a small nibble, but it’s cramped, and I find myself pushing at its flesh, which is firm but pliable, to make a little more room.
I feel a thump or thud. Has it fallen? I grab hold of the pip which is quite small, and tree-

climb up the stem to peek out. One eye is staring down. I freeze. Fruit flies?  
Are they ready to attack me or indulge in the fruit too? I shoo them away and duck between the seeds then, shimmy up the stem and peek out a tiny pinprick. One has taken refuge under the firm leaf.

One has taken refuge under the firm leaf.
At the bar, everyone was having coffee and aspirin and talking about the disappearance of the woman dancing with an apple. 
I snuck out, leaving them depressed and leaving the apple  
the fruit flies.