ELEVEN o’clock they said to be here. Eleven o’clock and you’ll have unlimited access to the boy wonder. Well, it’s just gone 10 past and the boy wonder is nowhere to be seen. His aunty-cum-PR-manager is here. His nana is here. Even Molly, the family pooch, is here. But Cody Simpson? Apparently he’s been delayed.

Oh, let us guess. The boy wonder’s having a celebrity tantrum and refusing to come out of his room? Or is it that he’s sleeping off the effects of an all-night bender with the Olsen twins?

What’s that? Oh, the 13-year-old’s been held up at the orthodontist. He had to get his braces checked before moving to the US to become even more famous than he is now. That doesn’t seem very rock ‘n’ roll. Then again, neither does the room in which we’re standing.

It’s very much your typical suburban kitchen. A nice kitchen in a nice home, to be fair, but a typical one nevertheless. The house belongs to Cody’s aunty and is tucked away in a quiet cul-de-sac a stone’s throw from Robina Parkway. Cody’s family has been dossing here for the past week. The boy wonder? He’s been sleeping on a mattress on the floor.

The front door swings open down the hall. There’s a brief glimpse of a dark-haired woman. A small boy dashes towards the lounge room. An athletic-framed man with wavy hair and trendy specs enters the kitchen. He extends his hand and introduces himself as Brad Simpson. “I’m Cody’s dad,” he says. How many times has he said that in recent months?

Brad leans against the fridge and apologises for the delay. He seems tired. He talks about a trip to Sydney the day before to get visas approved at the American embassy. All of them had to go — Mum, Dad and the three kids. There was a minor stuff-up but it all worked out in the end. Now they can finally book their flights. “It’s really happening,” he says in mild disbelief. This time next week they’ll be living in LA.

The boy wonder enters the room. He looks just as expected. Just as he does on YouTube. On Facebook. On Twitter. On codysimpson.com. Blond hair. Stylish threads. Boyish looks. A hint of a pimple on the bridge of his nose is the only thing separating the real-life Cody from the one who has taken the online world by storm.

Like his father, he offers his hand in greeting. It’s the handshake of a boy who’s been taught to shake like a man, not quite firm enough but with enough purpose to know he’s on the right track. He leads the way to an L-shaped sofa in the adjoining sitting room and takes the corner seat. His father grabs a spot a few feet farther along. Far enough away to give his teenaged son space. Close enough to be there if his little man needs him.

The boy wonder then tells one of the most incredible stories you’re likely to hear. Cody Simpson was seven when he first asked for guitar lessons, inspired by the sight of his dad playing and singing at backyard barbecues. After a couple of sessions, his teacher phoned his parents to say he needed to show them something. He turned Cody towards the wall and played an assortment of chords. The little boy picked them all by ear. His teacher had never seen anything like it.

Cody wrote his first song at the same age. “It was about putting nappies on chickens,” he chuckles before adopting a more serious tone. “But I started writing proper songs at 10.” Legendary Miami swim coach Denis Cotterell remembers his young charge playing Pete Murray’s Opportunity to him over the phone. “I was gobsmacked,” he says. “It sounded like a dead ringer for Pete Murray and it was coming from a 10-year-old kid.”

A year ago Cody finally persuaded his parents to let him post a couple of his cover versions on YouTube, ‘just to see what everyone thought of them’. Within weeks he received an online message from someone called Shawn Campbell wanting to meet him. “My parents didn’t think he was real but we Googled him and gave him a call.”

Source: HERE