Stop. Listen to that sound. It’s almost like a heartbeat.
It is a heartbeat.

I suddenly realized that heartbeat was Roums. We had just curled up to watch a flick. The exact flick I called: Saw. The heartbeat I heard was faint. I had fallen asleep on his shoulder, with my ear perched in just the right direction to catch the warming sound of his heart beating- telling me it’s not an artificial anthro like my last mate was. I hated that. We’d cuddle, and his chest was empty, his fur was ice cold all the time. I could never tuck my feet between his thighs like I do Roums.

My name is Zorey. I’m a 23 year old queer, fag, gay man. Call it whatever you please. It’s who I am. I had a drug past, but cleaned up when my mother kicked me out. Mostly I had no money to buy an eighth, or even less. Now, I’m a manager at a local grocery store. I get free food.



((Speak preview of the story. Gonna post each chapter in a new post to avoid confusion.))

Alright, now that the first chapter is completed. All critique is welcome. I love this piece, and am disappointed at the same time. In the 2nd/3rd half where very cutesy. I don't want this story to be.. cutesy. I want it to make you smile, and laugh. It supposed to be about how two friends become more through the fight of an ex boyfriend. I hope you like it, though.

Enjoy :3


Edit: Title may change. It's just a working title.

PS- This story is OLD. I'm posting it here to get some helpful critique, and plan on rewriting the whole thing, chopping it up to nothing. Time for a remake![/i]

CHAPTER ONE:

“Stop touching those. It’s like. A five dollar pair of socks!”, I yelled at Roum, who was adorning his hands with a pair of pink, polka-dotted socks. I loved those socks.
I walked out of the room.
“Buuuut… They’re soft.”, his reply was weak, and giddy.
“Think I care? I love those socks.”
“Not as much as you love meeeee!”
“ARGGG… Don’t make me come in thar.”
“I dare you.”, his voice changed to a deep, threatening tone.
The pads of my bare feet pushed on the ground as I made my way toward his room. He was putting on all my clothes, and making himself look like a skunk- much like myself. He had painted his white wing black, to match the two large dragon wings on my back. He had two distinct painted stripes going from his face, up over his head, and down to his but- it stopped there, or so.. That’s what I saw. His face lit up with joy as he saw me walk into the room.
His voice rang, “Some guy called for you. Sickled or something.”
I lit up, and squealed, “Chiclid called!?”

Chiclid was my mate. He’s about the same age- body wise –and was deployed from his old job at a coca-cola company.

He grunted, “Yeh. Who’s he?”
“Oooh.. Someone.” I replied.
“A mate?.. Lover?”, he grimaced.
“He’s my BOYFRIEND.” I said with joy.

Chiclid was a calm man- but quite the troublemaker. He drove me to insanity sometimes. But in a good way. I loved the tail he used to taunt me with. It was long, slender, and perfect for playing tug-o-war with. He always won. He had no heart, but he wasn’t a machine. He was made by the coca-cola company as a new mascot. The polar bear died or something. His blood is of albino kangaroo, and boa constrictor or some crap. But he mostly resembles a kangaroo- other than the tail which can move in any direction, hold things, and pull things closer to him. There was no bad feature about him. He was always smiling.

I jumped on his bed, and the white cordless phone bounced up. I grabbed it in mid air, and dialed his number. He answered, yawning.

“Yeah, uh.. hello?” with a yawn to finish his sentence.
“HI SHUGA.” I yelled into the mouth piece.
“Ah fucker, don’t yell so loud.”
“Sorry…”
“It’s okay. You got my message?”
“Of course!.. I’m calling you, right?..”
“Okay, yeah. I wanted to know if you wanted to go to Boston with me. I have to take a week up there to visit an old friend- he’s sick and bound to die any day now. I want you to meet him.”
“When?”
“This week. I have to go soon, because as I said. He’s bound to die.”, his voice sounded dreary. The phone line was quiet for a while. I pondered. I had to work, how could I go away for a week without notice? I have a job. A life. I can’t just bound up and leave with him.. Could I?

“Chic, you know I work. I work every day. They need me at the grocery store. I can’t just pick up and leave. Plus, Roums only source of food is me. I feed him. I get free food for him.. Remember?”, I was a bit annoyed.
“I know, I know. But I was hoping we could go on a retreat together. Spend the week. Show you around Boston.”
“You know I can’t. I can’t, can’t, can’t. I have to work. Maybe in a month or so.”
“All right. I guess I’ll see you in a week then, alright?”
“Wait. Come over, spend the night with me.”
“I’m leaving in an hour, Zor. I’m sorry.”
“Call me then. When you arrive.”
“I’ll try.
… Click. The line went dead. I felt abandoned. I pushed myself to the corner of Roums bed. Clutching onto a pillow. Maybe I could get out of work. Maybe I could go visit this friend of his.


I chose not to. I couldn't leave work, so I decided that staying home was the best bet at this point. He never called me, sent me a letter, or even e-mailed me on his trip. I couldn't sleep at night, wondering if this friend of his was maybe a secret mystery lover I had never met, or known of. I was becoming paranoid, and anxious. But it was Friday, a week ago today he left. I’ll prepare a grand meal for him. We can spend the night together. Watch a couple movies, and eat some ranch style chicken.


He didn't show up. I sat at the end of the table, watching the flicker of the white candle that was setup in front of me. I felt oddly depressed. It wasn't like Chiclid to not show up like this, it was quite unnerving. I stood from the wobbly wooden chair, and started to pick up. Roum entered the room.

"I see he was a no show, aye?", his voice was serious for a change.
"Yeah, I guess. I called him this afternoon and it WAS a deal. He said he'd be here. He said he'd be here two hours ago."

I poked at his plate of chicken, and sniffled. Roum was digging through the refrigerator. I knew he was listening to me, I could tell by the way his long bunny easy where perked.

"How bout' I join you, instead?", he spoke.

I thought. I didn't want this night to be ruined, or the food to go to waste. It was also awkward that my roommate, my friend, my straight friend wanted to have dinner with me even though I was taken.

Why not.
"Sure. Best not let the food go to waste.."

He sat down next to me, and began to cut a sliver of the chicken. He took a bite. Judging by the way his expression was, I could tell he liked it. He scooped a bite of mashed potatoes, and smiled. "You sure know how to cook. Too bad your taken.", he chucked.
"Yeh.. Too bad your straight.", I said sarcastically.
"Whoa, whoa there. What gave you the idea I was straight?", he said sternly- almost as if he was insulted.
"... I just.." - He interrupted me.
"Sorry, Zor. I wouldn't allow a gay guy to bunk with me if I wasn't gay myself. Plus, your cute.", he laughed goofy. "You cook a killer chicken".
"I hope it won't kill you. It must be viscous to be killer.", I laughed at my own joke.

I took a bite of the chicken. Sure it was cold, but it still tasted good. Although, damn. He was gay, too?.. How come I didn't know this.

I lightly tapped my feet to the floor, pulled my chair in closer, and sipped a glass of the ice cold milk in front of me.

The rest of the meal was fairly silent, and Roum finished a bit before me, then rolled off to bed with a big hug, and a thanks. I rose, and began to clean. Then the phone rung. I answered sleepily, and Chiclids voice rang in my ear. I interrupted him.
"Where where you?", I spoke.
"I was.. It doesn't matter. Can I come over?"
"No."
"Why?"
"You ditched me. And. And... It's over."

Click. I can't believe I dumped him, I can't believe I hung up on him.
What an unbelievable prick.

I started to cry.

I had fallen asleep on the couch, and Roum woke up early from the sound of the phone ringing nonstop. He came into the living room, and poked at me. I tried to ignore him, by twitching when he touched me, and grunted and pretending to talk when he attempted to wake me. I could hear the patting of his feet, good he's gone. Then a louder, more frequent padding of his feet. Then nothing.

"ACK!", I yelled.

He had jumped on me, "How's this for a wake up call?".. "Speaking of calling. Your lover has been calling off the hook all night."
"He's not my lover anymore."
He slapped my butt.
"Well then. I'll let you sulk into the corner of the couch sommore. Or is that drool I see?"

It was drool. I only cried once, and even when I did, it wasn't for more than a few moments. I was emotionless when it came to him. I didn't quite understand why. I guess, me not crying, means that I obviously didn't care. I went back to sleep.

CHAPTER 2-


Sunday morning, only two days after I dumped him. He stopped calling yesterday, his last message. Wait. Hold on. Let me play it.

The message rang for a moment- then his voice came up. “Chic, I’m not gonna go and fight for you like you want me to. I need your help, though. I’m in jail. No time to explain as to why. But I’ll tell you this- it has to do with a banana, some lady’s door, and a bag full of crap.”

Click.
He hung up. How juvenile of him to put a flaming bag of crap on a poor womans door. Can you imagine how horrified so would have been?.. I thought constantly. Should I bail him out?.. Or should I forget that he even called. I’ll forget it. I erased the message, and proceded to the couch, where Roum sat, eating a watermelon. Why did he have glasses on?

I tried to grab the remote from him, but he cackled, and put it down his pants. I crossed my arms, and laughed:

“I’m not afraid to go down there.”, I grinned.
“I’m not afraid of you going down there.”, he pulled the remote out of his pants, and tossed it to me.

I began to flip through the channels, and came across a news station. Chic was on there, getting dragged off by a burly male cop. He was a rotweiller cop. I was scared of those things. He was cute, though. The cop, I mean. His shirt was tight against the well-toned arms, but fairly loose around his chest and stomach area. I wondered, what did he do exactly?.. Then, the reporter spoke.

“Jennifer McDonahue here on the scene, where a brown paper bag that had kangaroo feces that exploded earlier this evening. A bomb detonated about two hours ago, blowing the woman that opened the door to her home, and saw a flaming bag, and two white kangaroos fleeing. A banana was sticking out from the top of the bag, and when she pulled it out, it exploded. She is now being hospitalized.”

There it was, again, I was feeling that overwhelming feel of going crazy. This time it was bad. I wanted to scream. Roum started to laugh at me, “GO LOOK IN A MIRROR!.. Holy CRAP your face is so red. You look so pissed off!”, he continued to laugh. I growled, and tackled him. The watermelon went flying out of his hands, and the sunglasses to the floor along with him. Once on the floor, I got up and walked away, “That was… AWSOME!.. LETS DO THAT AGAIN!”, Roum yelled as I left.

God, that guy was weird. Even when I attempt to kick his ass he laughs, and pokes fun at me. Even after I left, I could hear his loud laughter from the kitchen. I dug through the bottom drawer of the refrigerator for a Dr.Pepper. There was only Sunkist left. The Sunkist was his, and when he got it- he got it by the masses. He always knew when I took one of his sodas, and would kick me out of the house for days. Oh well.

“While your out there, grab me a Sunkist.”, he said, trying to stop laughing.

I walked into the living room, from the kitchen- and chucked a Sunkist at him. It hit him square on the forehead, and exploded all over the place. Oh man, I thought he would have been pissed at me. Nope. He just laughed harder, while bleeding all over the place. I whined, and ran into the kitchen, and grabbed a wet rag from the sink. Then, running into the living room, I patted at the cut on his forehead. It wasn’t as bad as it looked before, but it was big. He was still laughing, and was grabbing at my tail and pulling on it llike a small child. “Cut it out!”, I demanded.
“Okay..”- then, pulling out a knife he presumed to pretend to cut my tail off.
“It’s not funny.”

I had been in a bad mood the past few days. I know Roum meant well with his playful banter, trying to cheer me up from the past few days of hell. I walked down into my room, and closed the door behind me. I fumbled through some CD’s, and found it. My ‘Groove Coverage’ CD, that Roum had burned for me some time ago. I played it. Loud.
I started to sing, “7 years, and 50 days. The time is passing by. Nothing in this world could be, as nice as you and I, and how could we break up like this? And how could be be wrong? So many years, so many days, and I still sing my song. Now I run to you, like I always do, when I close my eyes I think of you.”- I stopped. I was out of breath.

Falling onto my bed, I fell asleep, while mumbling the lyrics to the song.

I woke up, to the slamming of a door. Roum was trying to wake me up. He did that when he wanted me up and about. I grunted, and stepped out of my room. There he was, laying on the floor in front of my door. He was bleeding terribly from the neck. I thought he was joking, so I leaned over and pushed him. He didn’t budge. His eyes where blank, and painful. I chuckled. Then, to play along with him, I leaned over and took his pulse. There was no pulse. I started to cry. Out of nowhere, a man in a mask came out and went in to stab me.

I woke up.

Walking into the hall, I had already wiped that horrid dream I had had. Walking into the kitchen, I saw Roum drawing some nonsense. Roum was quite the artist. He was lazy, though. He’d go days before he actually drew something productive. A doodle here and there would pop out, but usually it took him weeks before he finished an actual, finished piece of work. We had pictures decorating around the house, that he had accomplished. One of which was a version of Sammael- called Roummael. It was him, in sammael form. Amazing piece of work, really.

“Watcha workin’ on?”, I questioned.
“Eh. Someone paid me some money to draw his girlfriend. Someone at work.”, he shrugged.
“Oh. Can I see?”, I walked over, and he handed the piece of paper.
“I like… but it’s only a circle”
“I think it’s a masterpiece in the making.”, he choked, chucking his pencil at me.
“Oww.. What was that for?”, I rubbed my arm. A small piece of eraser dust drifted off my fur.
“Just getting you back for..”, he pointed at the cut on his head.
“But anyway, It’s still a circle. Let me see it when your done.” I spoke.

I looked to the clock- 2:13. “I gotta get ready for work. I work at 3:00.”

I walked down the hall, and into my room. I pulled out a folded ‘Shaws’ shirt, and a pair of plain khakis. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was clean, and well put together. I tossed on my work clothes, and tidied up my hair. I walked out into the kitchen, and looked at the time. “Damnit. It’s only 2:29.”, I grunted.

I decided on leaving early, and headed outside and over to my car. It was a little white Honda, nothing special about it. It was boxy, and small. It had a sunroof. I didn’t gander on listening to any music, so I just drove in a peaceful atmosphere. I stopped at Dunkin’ Doughnuts on the way, to grab a mocha-latte for the work day. I arrived at work promptly before 3:00, and headed inside. There was Jenny. She’s had a crush on me since I started working on her. She’s cute, but.. female. She approached me. I could tell she was finally going to gear up enough courage to ask me out.
“Hi, Zorey.”, I could tell she was nervous. She was never nervous.
“Hi there, Jen.” I smiled.
“I wanted to know.. would.. you.. um.. be willing to go out sometime.”
I sighed. I was gay. Should I tell her?.. I will.
“Jenna, I can’t. You’re a great girl and all, but..”, she interrupted me.
“.. You don’t like me..”
“No, it’s not that. I’m gay.”
“What?.. Since when?”
She walked off, and didn’t let me respond. I shrugged it off and walked off to start my workday. My eyes hurt, and didn’t know why. It wasn’t a very busy day- but fair to a point. It was Sunday, and Sundays where never busy. It was church day.

I went home right after work. It was nine-o-clock, and I was exhausted. I walked into the living room, and fell onto the couch. My wings had been bound up for a large portion of the day- as they always where. I reached behind my back, and untied the silky red ribbon, that held the elegant white cloth around my wings. Once the knot was untied, I stretched out the leathery substance that was, my wings. Once they where freed, a cool breeze ran over there frame, and caressing the thin dragon-like skin.

Roum was in the chair next to the couch. Or so I thought. I turned my head to converse with him, and he was already gone. “Oh well.” I said to myself. A few moments later, I felt something. Something at the top of my right wing. It felt like two hands fondling at them.

“Ooooo…!”, it was Roum. I turned my head, to see a wide-eyed rabbit, smiling crazily. “Preeeetttttty…” he said. I rolled my eyes, and sunk deeper into the couch. I grunted, and reached for the remote. The remote was just a smidge too far away. I slide down a bit more, in hopes of being able to grab it. Success. I flipped the TV on, and flicked through the channels. “Damnit. Nothing’s on. Nothings ever on.”- I growled.


Roum and I decided upon heading to the mall. We took my car. My crappy little white Honda. We got there quickly, seeing as how it was only a block away. We walked in through the food court, and straight to the game store. I bought one game – Tony Hawks American Wasteland. He bought a new dance dance revolution mat, seeing as how he broke his last one from so much use. Then we hit the food court. Damn was I hungry. I bought the usual- two slices of cheese pizza. Good stuff. He.. Got tacos. He always gets tacos. We didn’t stay long, we just wanted food, and I wanted my video game.

Off and on, we’d start laughing. Laughing at what Don and Mike would me saying on the radio. They make great American comedy. Although, rodents tend to lean in on the comedy more, like them. I think it’s because since Don and Mike where such a success, that all the rodents of the world figured it ran in there blood. Heh. Pathetic. If that where true- that talents ran through the blood of the species.. Then why can’t I play video games as good as the rest of my kind?.. Heh. Perhaps the dragon blood smothered the skunk blood.

Upon the arrival of our house- a really attractive guy was running. A rottweiller.. What’s with it, me afraid but oddly attracted to them. Damnit. I hate being male and gay. “The hormones.. the HOOORMONES!”.. uh-oh. I thought out loud. “Yes.. The hormones.”, Roum grinned, rolling his eyes as her patted the top of my head. He thought I’d gone mad.

I stepped inside first, grabbing the mail on my way in. I got a letter from my parents. What could they possibly want now?.. I ripped open the envelope, and read through it. My father was dead. “Dead. He was the only one who ever understood me. The only one who cared. And.. and.. he’s dead?!”, I felt like crying. But I had cried enough. I just crumpled the paper up, and tossed it in the trash. I went into the bathroom, and started the shower.

I slipped out of my clothes, and hopped into the shower. I just stood there for a while, pondering what misery my father had to go through. How did he die?.. He was so young. He was barely entering his fifties. “He was only fifty-one..” I grumbled. I felt uncomfortable, knowing my father was watching me shower. Or could be watching me shower. I covered myself up quickly, by putting on a pair of underwear while showering. Who takes a shower clothed?.. I hadn’t contacted my parents In.. god… years. Two, or three at the least. I left the day I turned eighteen, because my mom couldn’t accept my sexuality. Dumb woman. So ignorant to what was around her. Her best friend, Nina was a lesbian. Only me and my father knew about it, but my mother.. well.. she could never know.

I decided on leaving for my dads funeral. He was a good enough man, so why not?.. I packed my bags, and headed out. Roum wasn’t home, he left for one of his friends house. I grabbed the greenish bag that sat at the end of my bed. On the way out, I called my mother:
“Hey, Mom. I’m coming out for the funeral.”, I said calmly.
“Why? We don’t need you here. Plus. The funeral was a week ago.”, she laughed.
“What?.. Why didn’t you call me?.. You KNEW how close me and dad where!”, I screamed into the phone.
“I’m sorry, Zoreticus.”, she wasn’t sorry. She was never sorry.
Click.
I hung up on her. The nerve of that woman. She held a funeral without me. Her own son. Her flesh and blood. I can’t believe her. She’s the cruelest of them all. I remember this one time, we went to a fair in Oklahoma. We where down there visiting some family. She told me that evil little boys like me where unwelcome at state fairs. That skunks where hated. Then she went. She went, and came back with two boys, and screwed them both.
Such a whore.

Skunks are not hated, or disliked. We are a part of society, just like any other person. We have just as much respect. Screw her. That evil bitch. I hate her. I wish she was dead…
Out of being childish, I looked at one of the cracks in the kitchen. Standing up from my chair, I began to stomp on the crack in the kitchen, and scream as loud as I could; “STEP ON A CRACK, BREAK YOUR MOTHERS BACK. STEP ON A CRACK, BREAK YOUR MOTHERS BACK. STEP ON A CRACK, BREAK YOUR MOTHERS BACK.”, oh how I wished that was true. I’d kill to break that back of hers. Hell. I’d kill her.

Now I'm not as proud of the above two chapters as I used to be. I think I could have done better.

So please, enlighten yourself with a little fanblurb from Nip/Tuck


Nip/Tuck, addictive little show, ain't it?.. I fell through the cushions of my couch as I dreaded the final scene. The scene in which The Carver, the only person anyone talked about anymore, would be reveiled. My heart was racing, I could feel the blood drippling down off my fingers from too much pressure. Perhaps the nails pushed backward, but I didn't feel any pain. Well, I did. But it wasn't in my fingers. I was too into the show, the intent scene. The carver had just slashed somone. We looked through the victims eyes. Shit. Why am I on the floor?.. Why am I... bleeding?.. Is this.. no.. That can't be.. he's fictional!... The carver, bellowing out with the words, "Beauty is a curse on the world." but his words didn't stop, I had just passed out. What else had he told me?

I was hoping for some critique XD
Oh well.

first chapter. i loved it!! :3 if i had time, i would read chapter two, maybe next time!! thankies!!

Chapter one:

Coca-Cola is a brand name- capitalize it.

I chose not to. I couldn't leave work, so I decided that staying home was the best bet at this point. He never called me, sent me a letter, or even e-mailed me on his trip. I couldn't sleep at night, wondering if this friend of his was maybe a secret mystery lover I had never met, or known of. I was becoming paranoid, and anxious. But it was Friday, a week ago today he left. I’ll prepare a grand meal for him. We can spend the night together. Watch a couple movies, and eat some ranch style chicken.


He didn't show up. I sat at the end of the table, watching the flicker of the white candle that was setup in front of me. I felt oddly depressed. It wasn't like Chiclid to not show up like this, it was quite unnerving. I stood from the wobbly wooden chair, and started to pick up. Roum entered the room.

You should probably set up something to show a passage of time has occurred.

my straight friend wanted to have dinner with me even though I was taken

Some how this doesn’t fit- if he’s straight its not awkward because he’s straight. It’s perfectly normal to eat with a roommate even if they are of the gender that you’re attracted to. Also if he’s straight then it doesn’t matter if he’s taken or not either, as he wouldn’t be attracted to a male. I realize the next part says that he’s not, but there may be a better way to tell the reader that the main character is sure that his roommate is straight.

XD I like the breakup.
You have a very interesting set up going here. I can’t wait to read more- but real life calls me to do stuff in real life- stupid real life *grumbles*

Chapter 2: Regular comments corrections
I love how you started this one out.
This may look like a lot of fixing, but it’s mostly the same errors repeated.
* “Its Chic, I’m not gonna go and fight for you like you want me to.
Can you imagine how horrified she would have been?
I erased the message, and proceeded to the couch,
“I’m not afraid to go down there.”
I wondered, what did he do exactly?

*It kind of sounds like he’s trying to call himself at first.

There it was, again, I was feeling that overwhelming feel of going crazy.

too repetitive with the feel root word- try “I was experiencing that overwhelming feel(ing) of going crazy.”

Walking into the hall, I had already wiped that horrid dream I had had.

not quite a clear sentence
We had pictures decorating the house, that he had accomplished

Here you should probably switch to a dialogue. “Watcha workin’ on?”
“Eh. Someone paid me some money to draw his girlfriend. Someone at work.”
“Oh. Can I see?”
I walked over, and he handed the piece of paper.
“I like… but it’s only a circle.”
“I think it’s a masterpiece in the making.”
He chucked his pencil at me.
“Oww.. What was that for?” I rubbed my arm. A small piece of eraser dust drifted off my fur.
“Just getting you back for…” he pointed at the cut on his head.
“But anyway, It’s still a circle. Let me see it when your done.”

“Damnit. It’s only 2:29,” I grunted.
I decided on leaving early, and headed outside to my car.
, but... female.
Should I tell her... I will.
but…” she
“What? Since when?”
#I stretched out the leathery material that was, my wings.
I slid down a bit more, in hopes of being able to grab it. Success.
He... Got tacos.
Laughing at what Don and Mike would be saying on the radio.
#substance is usually not one solid mass

Although, rodents tend to lean in on the comedy more, like them.

This isn’t an although sentence-it should be something isn’t as most are. Either have them not be rodents, or cut out the although
I think it’s because Don and Mike where such a success, all the rodents of the world figured it ran in their blood.
If that where true- that talents ran through the blood of the species, then why can’t I play video games as good as the rest of my kind?
“The hormones- the HOOORMONES!” Uh-oh.
“Yes... The hormones,” Roum grinned, rolling his eyes as her patted the top of my head.
What could they possibly want now? I ripped
And... and... he’s dead?!” I
How did he die? He
“He was only fifty-one…” I grumbled.
I felt uncomfortable, knowing my father was watching me shower- or could be watching me shower.
Who takes a shower clothed? I hadn’t contacted my parents In... God… years.
knew about it, but my mother... well, she could never know.
I decided on leaving for my dad’s funeral.
He was a good enough man, so why not? I packed
“Hey, Mom. I’m coming out for the funeral,” I said calmly.
The funeral was a week ago,” she laughed.
I screamed into the phone, “What?! Why didn’t you call me?! You KNEW how close me and dad where!”
“I’m sorry, Zoreticus.” She wasn’t sorry.

Punctuation only goes on the inside of a quotation marked phrase. Also if you’re going to follow the quotation with something like “he said,” then the phrase inside should end with a comma, not a period or anything that would end the sentence.
Ellipses have 3 periods (…)
I’d also cut back on your use of ellipses.

This one needs a little more work. You have a good plot going, along with some irony, a few touches of being cynical. Rework the mechanics, and I'll look at it again. With this much being corrected, I can't look at the flow and more detailed stuff

*marks the thread to come back later and read when she has time*

*hugs Zander* :o

Woohoo!

Chapter One:

Typos (corrections in bold unless an explaination is after it ^^)

"Buuuut.." "meeeee!" - Not so much typos really, I can see you're going for drawn out sounds, but I think you could do it in another way rather than adding extra letters. Examples;
"But... they're soft." (I think the elipse here would drag out the "but")
"Not as much as you love me!" he taunted (or whined, depending on the mood you want), dragging out the last word.

"thar." - Not sure if you're going for an accent here or not, since Zorey doesn't seem to have an accent anywhere else.

"...and down to his butt..."

"...tug-o-war..." - I'm not 100% certain on this, but I think it's supposed to be tug-of-war.

"Plus, Roum's only..." "I pushed myself to the corner of Roum's bed."

"...his long bunny ears were perked."

"The phone rang."

"Where were you?"

Plot/Storyline

I think, somewhere near the beginning, you should have some little explaination of yours and Roum's species, sort of like you did with Chiclid, so people will know who you're talking about later when you want to just describe them without using their names.

The flow seems good in this chapter, except where sycho mentioned that you should show some time had passed. I like the interaction between Zorey and Roum and Zorey and Chiclid, very real, and very you. ^_^

One thing that I found confusing was the drool bit at the end... what was the significance of that? Was Zorey drooling because he was asleep, was he drooling because he liked Roum? Or something else entirely?

Chapter Two:

Typos

"That was... AWESOME!"

"Dunkin' Donuts..."

"She's had a crush on me since I started working on her." - Working on her? Do you mean at the store?

"...as they always were."

"Tony Hawk's..."

Plot/Storyline

He was cute, though. The cop, I mean. His shirt was tight against the well-toned arms, but fairly loose around his chest and stomach area. I wondered, what did he do exactly?

It's good that you said "The cop, I mean," but after that, I assume you're still talking about the cop when you are describing the shirt. Are you talking about Chiclid again when you say, "I wondered, what did he do exactly?"

“Jennifer McDonahue here on the scene, where a brown paper bag that had kangaroo feces that exploded earlier this evening. A bomb detonated about two hours ago, blowing the woman that opened the door to her home, and saw a flaming bag, and two white kangaroos fleeing.

Blowing the woman that opened the door? Do you mean blowing up the woman that opened the door?

I walked into the living room, from the kitchen- and chucked a Sunkist at him. It hit him square on the forehead, and exploded all over the place.

Right now this sounds somewhat unplausible. Perhaps you could say, "I must have thrown it harder than I thought, because when it hit him square on the forehead, it exploded all over the place."

I started to sing, “7 years, and 50 days. The time is passing by. Nothing in this world could be, as nice as you and I, and how could we break up like this? And how could be be wrong? So many years, so many days, and I still sing my song. Now I run to you, like I always do, when I close my eyes I think of you.”

Even though you said, "I started to sing," it might be a good idea to put the lyrics in italics, just to get more of a point across that Zorey's not just talking, but singing.

I woke up.

Walking into the hall, I had already wiped that horrid dream I had had.

I think this jumps too quickly to walking down the hall. Some sort of emotion should be expressed here; were you scared, sad, relieved, indifferent? Even if you were indifferent, saying so would help the flow for the reader.

One of which was a version of Sammael- called Roummael. It was him, in sammael form. Amazing piece of work, really.

What's a sammael? I don't know what kind of audience you're going to have read this, maybe they'll know what it is... but a small description couldn't hurt in any case. I thought Sammael was another character at first. Always assume that your reader will have no knowledge of the things you're writing about, and explain to them what things are. ^^

I didn’t gander on listening to any music

I believe gander usually has to do with the visual sense, like, "Take a gander at those legs, yowzah!" Perhaps you could say, I didn't want to listen to any music, or I didn't intend on listening to any music.

I could tell she was nervous. She was never nervous.

Is there a reason for stating this twice?

“What?.. Since when?”
She walked off, and didn’t let me respond.

This didn't flow well for me, you should either try to express her as showing more disbelief or more anger, whichever way you wanted her to act. Right now I think of her asking it sincerely, then walking off.

I got a letter from my parents. What could they possibly want now?.. I ripped open the envelope, and read through it. My father was dead.

I hadn’t contacted my parents In.. god… years. Two, or three at the least.

“What?.. Why didn’t you call me?.. You KNEW how close me and dad where!”, I screamed into the phone.

This seems to not make much sense. If he were so close to his father, why would he break off communication with him for two years just because his mother didn't approve of his sexuality? Is it something like the mother would have left his father if he spoke to him? Maybe you could have the letter come just from his mother?

"I got a ltter from my mother... and that was strange because I hadn't heard from or spoken to her in almost two years. I ripped open the envelope and read through it. My father was dead."

Also, if he were really close to his father, I think he might show just a little more emotion or at least shock initially, rather than just wanting to cry, but not crying and then throwing it away. It seems very emotionless right now. It's good if that's what you're going for, but it doesn't sync up with Zorey's strong emotions and declarations of how close they were that come later.

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I really like the journal entry style of writing you have going on, it's very engaging and very personal. The story seems like it's off to a good start; there is plenty of room for conflict and character growth. I hope to read more soon. ^_^