GTA VI: We’ve Waited 13 Years. You’re Giving Me 10 Days.

Grand Theft Auto V came out on 17 September 2013.

Grand Theft Auto VI is due on 19 November 2026.

That's 4,811 days.

Thirteen years, two months and two days between mainline GTA games, not that anybody's been counting.

Well. I've been counting.

Thirteen Bloody Years

Think about everything that's happened since GTA V landed.

We've had an entire global pandemic.

Britain has been through prime ministers like I go through crisps on a Saturday afternoon.

Consoles have come and gone. GTA V hasn't. Rockstar have sold it to us on the PS3, the PS4 and the PS5, and somehow we kept buying it.

People have got married. People have had kids. Those kids are now teenagers who think GTA V is a retro game.

A child born the week GTA V came out could now beat me at it. Probably while texting.

Meanwhile, some of us still remember playing the original Grand Theft Auto on a PC keyboard, steering a car with the arrow keys and wondering why it kept bursting into flames.

We've all got older. Greyer. Considerably more likely to make a small noise when getting up off the sofa.

Thirteen years. I've had shorter mortgages.

The Good Old Days

I grew up on these games.

The original top-down Grand Theft Auto, where every car handled like a shopping trolley and the police appeared out of nowhere like a wasp at a barbecue.

GTA London, which was basically the same game but with more swearing and a much better accent.

GTA 2, still top-down, still chaos.

Then GTA III came along and absolutely blew my mind. A whole city in 3D. Liberty City wasn't a map. It was a place.

I spent hours trying to get to the islands before they unlocked. Jumping cars off ramps. Swimming, which back then meant drowning instantly. Finding every possible way to the other side of a bridge that the game very clearly did not want me to cross.

None of them worked.

I kept trying anyway.

Then Vice City. The neon, the pastel suits, the music. I'm fairly sure I spent more time driving around listening to the radio than doing actual missions.

Then San Andreas, which was so big it felt like it had no edges at all. Three cities, the countryside, the desert, a jetpack. It was ridiculous. It was brilliant.

Liberty City Stories and Vice City Stories on the go. GTA IV, which made Liberty City feel grey and real. The Lost and Damned. The Ballad of Gay Tony. Chinatown Wars on a tiny screen.

And then GTA V. Three characters, Los Santos, and a heist structure so good I still think about it.

That's the thing about GTA. It's never just been about causing chaos, although there's always been a lot of that.

It's the stories. The characters. The radio stations. The way you could ignore the next mission entirely and just drive around at sunset because the city looked nice.

GTA Online is fine.

Honestly, it is.

But I haven't been waiting thirteen years for another shark card. I've been waiting for a story.

We're Going Back to Vice City

And here's the bit that gets me.

We're going back to Vice City.

From everything Rockstar have shown so far, this time it's part of a whole state, Leonida, a sun-soaked, slightly unhinged version of Florida.

Beaches. Swamps. Nightlife. Neon. The kind of people who look like they'd film themselves wrestling an alligator and then post it with a thumbs up.

And we've got Jason and Lucia, the two leads Rockstar have introduced in the trailers.

I'm not going to pretend I know what happens. I haven't played it. Nobody has.

But I know what Rockstar do with a sandbox. I know what it felt like the first time I drove out of Liberty City, or sat on a beach in Vice City watching the sun go down while a radio DJ talked absolute nonsense.

That feeling is what I've been waiting for.

Ten Days Isn't Too Much to Ask

So here's my position.

After thirteen years, surely ten days isn't unreasonable.

Ten days.

That's it.

Because I know exactly what's going to happen. I'll get through the opening missions, finally get a car I like, tune into a radio station, drive off towards the coast…

And somebody will ask me to go to the supermarket.

Or remind me we're visiting relatives on Sunday.

Or suggest that this weekend would be a lovely time to paint the spare bedroom.

Or announce a trip to the garden centre, as if anybody has ever needed to go to a garden centre urgently.

Then there's the DIY. The shelf that's been waiting since March can surely wait until December.

There's the surprise social commitment. The "oh, did I not mention we're going out on Friday?"

There's the question I already know is coming on day three: "Are you STILL playing that game?"

Yes. Yes I am. I waited thirteen years for it.

And my personal favourite: being asked to pause during a moment that cannot possibly be paused. A cutscene. A chase. A heist going horribly wrong.

You can't pause a heist going horribly wrong. That's not how heists work.

I genuinely think GTA VI deserves its own special category of annual leave.

Bank holidays for Christmas. Bank holidays for Easter. Nothing for the biggest game release in over a decade.

It's a national scandal.

So, as a practical solution to this national emergency, I've drawn up the paperwork.

Fill in the application. Choose who you're asking. Pick your days. Then print the official agreement and get it signed.

It won't stand up in a court of law.

It might stand up in your living room.

Normal Service Will Resume

So that's the plan.

Snacks bought. Controller charged. Loved ones informed.

I'll see you on the other side, probably a bit pale, slightly confused about what day it is and with strong opinions about which radio station is best.

Thirteen years is a long time to wait for anything.

Ten days isn't.

We've waited 13 years for GTA VI. The washing up can wait another ten days.