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It was no secret to anybody that Jon wasn't like his friends.
They were rough, tough, and tall.
He was small, sweet, and a lot more discreet.
Being these things helped him out a lot, though. His favourite hobby could never happen so flawlessly without them. Since he was small, he could get into strange places. Since he was discreet, not being noticed was easy. Since he was sweet, nobody ever suspected anything.
Jon loved photography. The angles, the candids, and all the moments he could keep with him forever. Eduardo being sound asleep on the sofa with a soap opera he wouldn't ever admit to watching casting a pretty glow on him? Or awake, hollering over the fence whilst the sprinkler in the front yard did its work behind him? Click. Mark playing piano on the special rainbow-gradient keys one Jon had gifted him? Mark in the early morning, sipping his coffee slouched over the kitchen table in that gorgeous morning sunlight? Click. The pretty ginger, Matt, that he shared a window-view with practicing modeling in his room? Click. Click. Click. He had a corkboard of polaroids marked with dates and subjects. Most were just marked 'Matt', and Jon sometimes felt glad people didn't often come to his room. They might think poorly of how many pictures were Matt. It wasn't creepy - it just so happened that he made good material. He WAS a model.
Sometimes though, Jon would admit, he did tactics for photos that were a little bit odd. If the neighbours were doing something that looked like fun, he'd hide in the bushes for a photo. He'd met his best friend in those bushes, a man who only wanted the whole world to share, and planned on helping with that by building the bigger man. Jon assumed he meant being it, not building it, something like that, either way, it proved Jon wasn't the only one who did it so it couldn't be THAT weird.
He'd taken a few photos of his best friend, too, though he was a bit more camera-shy. Jon didn't understand why. He'd thought a guy like him would get all the ladies. Actually, most of the people around him would, and he didn't understand how they didn't.
Well, maybe except the drunk next door.
From what Jon knew of Tom, he was rude, bold, usually angry, and always drunk. So, a bit like Eduardo, but with worse bad habits. Coupled on with that, he had the same odd-one-out eyes as Jon himself. Jon never understood why, how, or anything like that, and he certainly had nothing against eyes like his or Tom's, but he knew other people didn't understand either, and that wasn't exactly a bonus, to most.
Jon liked how Tom looked though. Serious and sharp. He seemed like he'd command attention without a word, and luckily no words were his usual unless he was out on an adventure. It was great for his artsier pictures.
There was only one member of that household that he'd never taken a picture of. Or, well, never successfully. Edd himself.
Jon knew Edd owned the house next door. He'd known before Edd even moved in, back when he was only just moving in himself, when Eduardo had raved and ranted and "How dare he move onto the same street as me?! I'm numero uno, he's just a pretty little nobody!". Jon didn't bring up the way Eduardo had called him 'pretty'. In hindsight, knowing now what he did, he regretted not bringing it up.
It was so hard to get a good picture of Edd. He was always moving, always busy, always doing something! Action shots were never something Jon was any good at. The photos he took had to capture everything in a single moment, and that was so difficult when Edd kept shifting from task to task!
It didn't make Jon mad though. It was alright. It might have been frustrating, to have a collection endlessly unfinished, but that was never the case.
Every year, on one very special day, Jon got a little box full of pictures of Edd, and two handwritten notes that were always something along the lines of 'Here, you little freak, enjoy :)' 'Happy birthday, Jon - hope these are what you're looking for'.
It was no secret to anybody that Jon wasn't like his friends.
They were rough, tough, and tall.
He was small, sweet, and a lot more discreet.
But they were still his friends, and he loved them in every frame.