Sarada had spent well over an hour getting ready, making sure both her hair and makeup were perfect for the event. Director Uzumaki had emphasized that everyone at the fundraiser would be itching to meet her and wish her well. She just hoped she could live up to their expectations of what a prima ballerina should be.
Sarada had half her hair pinned up, while her remaining raven locks hung over her bare shoulders in loose curls. Her strapless dress was a dusty rose color with ruffled tulle over the bust and the high-low hem, showing off her legs and the designer shoes her mother insisted she wear.
When she stepped out of the taxi onto the front drive of the swanky hotel, her first thought was to find Director Uzumaki. Thankfully, he was in the lobby at the registration desk where volunteers would check in the event's guests and give them their table numbers.
"Oh, great! You're here!" Naruto greeted, before turning to one of the volunteers. "Will you check-in Sarada Uchiha?"
After a few clicks on her laptop the volunteer looked up, "She's all set!"
"Thank you." Naruto offered Sarada his arm. "Would you like to go see the ballroom?"
"Okay," she replied, looping her arm with his and allowing him to escort her down the hotel's long carpeted hallway.
"During the fundraiser, I'll be introducing you to our key donors," he began. "Mostly we'll just smile and laugh as they talk about themselves, but try to have three to five charming anecdotes in your back pocket about ballet or a recent vacation you've been on or something."
Sarada nodded as her nerves about this evening intensified. She wasn't really the best storyteller. "Is Boruto here?"
"I haven't seen him yet, but I expect he'll be here soon." Most of the dancers in the company attended to show their support.
They entered the grand ballroom through the double doors at the end of the hall. The space was filled with round tables topped with champagne-colored tablecloths and gorgeous flower arrangements. The lighting was dim allowing the gold chandeliers to accentuate the height of the ceilings. At the center of the room, large wood tiles made a dance floor beside the small tuxedo-clad orchestra that began playing now that guests were arriving.
It wasn't long before the ballroom was filled with classical music and the lively chatter of ballet enthusiasts. Waiters meandered through the room passing flutes of sparkling wine and an elegant selection of hors d'oeuvres.
Dark eyes scanned the crowd before Sarada looked to Director Uzumaki. "So are we walking around or…?"
"Oh no, they'll come to us. You're the belle of the ball after all. Everyone will come over to say hello, and that's when we charm their pants off!" he explained with a grin. Sarada swallowed. Thankfully she was latched to Naruto's arm to keep her steady. She wasn't known for charming strangers.
One after the other, small groups approached the pair, saying hello to Naruto and complimenting Sarada. She aimed to appear poised, but feared looking too stiff. All these people were quite wealthy, she wondered if they approved of her choice of outfit, or would walk away talking about how tacky she was.
Her cheeks were beginning to hurt from all the forced smiling, but she was glad that as promised Director Uzumaki and the donors did most of the talking.
Boruto leaned his elbow against a high cocktail table, sipping his sparkling wine and watching Sarada make conversation with a nice couple. After years as the creative director of Konoha Ballet Company, his father was skilled at schmoozing and turning friendly conversations into donations.
Sarada, on the other hand, was a bit awkward. Stiff even. She came across more introverted, so this evening was probably already a bit much for her.
He noted the way her dark eyes followed every waiter that passed, and yet, she refused their offer of food. Whether she didn't want to impose or talk with her mouth full, he understood. But that didn't stop Boruto from collecting a small plate of all the available options.
He planned to wait until this couple walked away but they were talking for so long and he didn't want the hors d'oeuvres to get cold. With a plate in one hand and his wine in the other, Boruto made his way over to the group.
"Oh, Boruto! So nice of you to make an appearance!" his father grinned before encouraging him to come closer. "Have I introduced you to my son? He's the company's principal dancer! Boruto, this is Sasuke and Sakura Uchiha."
"It's a pleasure," he said, lifting his drink in polite acknowledgement. He had heard of the Uchihas by name, and obviously they were Sarada's parents, but had never seen their faces before.
"Don't let the blonde hair fool you, he got his good looks from his mother!" Naruto added with a laugh.
Sarada couldn't help but notice the way Boruto's smile faltered at the comment. She thought him pretty when they first met, but maybe he didn't like being described as such.
Dark eyes glanced around wondering where exactly his mother was, but then again Director Uzumaki never mentioned she was coming. Sarada certainly wouldn't blame her for wanting to skip all the schmoozing her husband had to do at events like this.
When her gaze returned to the group, their parents were still chatting but Boruto had taken a few steps closer and lifted his full plate to her. "Stop holding your breath, there's no need to be so nervous. Did you want any of these?" he asked before explaining what each of them was.
She wondered if he realized she was holding her breath to suck her stomach in. But Sarada decided not to address it. Shaking her head, she whispered, "oh, no thank you."
Her jaw clenched at the way his blue eyes assessed that reaction. "You don't have to be embarrassed if you're picky. I can ask the waiter to bring you something you want."
"Um, I don't think you can really do that here…"
"I'll still ask though!"
"That's really not necessary, I'm not even hungry," Sarada lied. She hadn't eaten anything all evening to make sure she looked slim in her dress. But an uncomfortable feeling prickled at her skin knowing that Boruto noticed that she had been interested in the hors d'oeuvres.
He looked like he was about to say something more when Director Uzumaki chimed in.
"Ooh, let's have a toast!" Naruto declared as a waiter offered the group a tray of sparkling wine.
Sarada had been avoiding alcohol on account of her empty stomach, but she felt like she couldn't refuse Director Uzumaki's suggestion. She picked up a flute of bubbly and clinked her glass against each of her parents and both Uzumakis.
"To Sarada's promotion," Naruto cheered. "We're so fortunate to have her!" Both her parents beamed with pride, but all she had was a soft smile to offer them in return. She took a modest sip of her drink, letting the bubbles tickle her throat.
Her social meter was really beginning to run low. So many of the people she met that evening promised to buy tickets for the opening night of their summer program. Sarada sipped her drink again, knowing she should be flattered, but all she could think about was the additional expectations these donors bring.
It's not just about being her best to prove herself worthy, she had to be perfect because that's what the audience paid for. She tossed back the rest of her drink at the thought.
"Hey," Boruto mumbled as he leaned in close. "I know you're busy tonight, but promise you'll save me a dance."
An unexpected smile stretched across her lips, finding such a request funny when they dance together every day of the week. "Okay, sure."
"Sarada?" She turned at the sound of her mother's voice. "I was going to run to the ladies' room. Did you want to come with me so you can touch up your makeup?"
Was her mother trying to tell her something was wrong with her makeup?
"Um, okay," she nodded, before looking back at Boruto. "I'll find you later."
Sarada trailed after her mother out of the ballroom and several steps down the hall. They weren't the only pair of women in the powder room occupying mirror space as they reapplied their lipstick. Sarada sat down on the overstuffed ottoman at the center of the room, wiggling her feet inside her shoes as they reminded her how long she had been standing for.
After using the restroom, her mother inspected her own appearance in a full-length mirror, smoothing out the emerald green satin of her elegant floor-length dress. "Are you having fun, sweetheart?"
Sarada hesitated. Was this supposed to be fun? "Uh, yeah."
"I know it's a lot of people, but everyone you're meeting tonight are really valuable connections to have. If you make an effort to maintain these relationships, that's how you get brand deals and nice articles written about you." Sakura turned to her, offering her a hand and encouraging her to stand up. "Maybe try to warm your smile up a little bit. The last thing you want is people saying Konoha Ballet's new prima is a mean, ice princess."
Dark brows furrowed as Sarada registered her mother's words. Warm up her smile?! What did that even mean? Was she trying to tell her she looked cold and off-putting to all these donors that Director Uzumaki keeps telling her she's supposed to be charming?!
Her mother fluffed the tulle on the skirt of her dress. "I really think this was a great choice of dress for you, so cute and flattering for your figure! Alright, are you ready to go back out there?"
Sarada fanned her face, suddenly feeling hot with emotion. "Um, actually, I think I'm going to use the restroom real quick, but you go on ahead."
"Okay, don't be too long now! I'm sure there's still lots of people who want to meet you!" her mother told her before heading out the door and back to the festivities.
More?! Seriously!? Sarada fell back down on the ottoman with a tired sigh. She barely even said anything to these people, and yet somehow she was still wrong?! Too cold… how was she too cold?! What did that mean? God, anyone would look cold next to Mr. Sunshine personified Naruto Uzumaki, but still!
She stared up at the ceiling, willing her tears not to fall and ruin the makeup she still needed to touch up according to her mother. She promised Director Uzumaki that she wouldn't disappoint him when he made her prima ballerina, and here she was failing at one of her most important roles as the face of the company.
Sarada pressed a hand against her growling stomach and hung her head in disappointment. She had put so much thought and effort into looking the part, she naively thought being polite would be sufficient. What did these people actually expect from her? To be a bubbly, social butterfly like her mother?! She couldn't even fake that if she tried, and coming off as disingenuous was probably even worse, right?!
Why was it that no matter how hard she tried, she was never enough?
She winced as more intrusive thoughts and hurtful questions needled at the back of her mind, continuing to make her feel worse and worse. It was a familiar distressful spiral that always seemed to lead her to a place like Thunder Burger, where she could bury her feelings in bad foods until she was numb.
But when Sarada stood up and left the bathroom, food wasn't on her mind.
No. There was a new vice she was craving. One that seemed to be just as effective at distracting her mind.
Dark eyes scanned the crowd as she reentered the ballroom, spotting him almost immediately. She marched over to him with purpose and tapped him on the shoulder.
Boruto turned around and a smile stretched across his lips at the sight of her.
"You ready for that dance?"