Those were a few things the two of them certainly had in common: he also grew up too fast, and was heavily compartmentalizing so they didn't have to face the reality. He had a lot to panic about and he decided he just wasn't going to be doing that. Not now, not any time in the future. He probably wouldn't be particularly successful given how fundamentally different this place was from Night City but he sure was going to try.

He glanced back at Wren as they made the realization that Freddie Mercury (apparently it was one of those names that required both first and last) was alive. That certainly got his attention. It wasn't uncommon for rockerboys to be killed in Night City - they were political figures as much as the politicians were, and so pushing the wrong agenda could get them in trouble if they were too popular - but by the sound of it, he had died by some sort of illness rather than an assassination. That was rather strange - for eight studio albums they had to have been doing well, and if they were doing well they'd have money, and money could solve almost any problem.

"Dying? From what? If the band hit success he shoulda been able to take care of whatever was affecting him."

It was clear he meant no offense but was genuinely confused by the idea of an illness being what ended up killing him.